"A very great disrespect!" exclaimed Captain Langford, an Englishofficer, who had recently brought dispatches to Governor Shute. "Thefuneral should have been deferred, lest Lady Eleanore's spirits beaffected by such a dismal welcome.""With your pardon, sir," replied Doctor Clarke, a physician, anda famous champion of the popular party, "whatever the heralds maypretend, a dead beggar must have precedence of a living queen. KingDeath confers high privileges."These remarks were interchanged while the speakers waited a passagethrough the crowd, which had gathered on each side of the gateway,leaving an open avenue to the portal of the Province House. A blackslave in livery now leaped from behind the coach, and threw open thedoor; while at the same moment Governor Shute descended the flightof steps from his mansion, to assist Lady Eleanore in alighting. Butthe Governor's stately approach was anticipated in a manner thatexcited general astonishment. A pale young man, with his black hairall in disorder, rushed from the throng, and prostrated himself besidethe coach, thus offering his person as a footstool for Lady EleanoreRochcliffe to tread upon. She held back an instant, yet with anexpression as if doubting whether the young man were worthy to bearthe weight of her footstep, rather than dissatisfied to receive suchawful reverence from a fellow-mortal.
"Up, sir," said the Governor, sternly, at the same time lifting hiscane over the intruder. "What means the Bedlamite by this freak?""Nay," answered Lady Eleanore playfully, but with more scorn thanpity in her tone, "your Excellency shall not strike him. When men seekonly to be trampled upon, it were a pity to deny them a favor soeasily granted- and so well deserved!"Then, though as lightly as a sunbeam on a cloud, she placed herfoot upon the cowering form, and extended her hand to meet that of theGovernor. There was a brief interval, during which Lady Eleanoreretained this attitude; and never, surely, was there an apter emblemof aristocracy and hereditary pride trampling on human sympathiesand the kindred of nature, than these two figures presented at thatmoment. Yet the spectators were so smitten with her beauty, and soessential did pride seem to the existence of such a creature, thatthey gave a simultaneous acclamation of applause.
"Who is this insolent young fellow?" inquired Captain Langford, whostill remained beside Doctor Clarke. "If he be in his senses, hisimpertinence demands the bastinado. If mad, Lady Eleanore should besecured from further inconvenience, by his confinement.""His name is Jervase Helwyse," answered the Doctor; "a youth ofno birth or fortune, or other advantages, save the mind and soulthat nature gave him; and being secretary to our colonial agent inLondon, it was his misfortune to meet this Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe.
He loved her- and her scorn has driven him mad.""He was mad so to aspire," observed the English officer.
"It may be so," said Doctor Clarke, frowning as he spoke. "But Itell you, sir, I could well-nigh doubt the justice of the Heaven aboveus if no signal humiliation overtake this lady, who now treads sohaughtily into yonder mansion. She seeks to place herself above thesympathies of our common nature, which envelops all human souls.
See, if that nature do not assert its claim over her in some mode thatshall bring her level with the lowest!""Never!" cried Captain Langford indignantly- "neither in life,nor when they lay her with her ancestors."Not many days afterwards the Governor gave a ball in honor ofLady Eleanore Rochcliffe. The principal gentry of the colonyreceived invitations, which were distributed to their residences,far and near, by messengers on horseback, bearing missives sealed withall the formality of official dispatches. In obedience to the summons,there was a general gathering of rank, wealth, and beauty; and thewide door of the Province House had seldom given admittance to morenumerous and honorable guests than on the evening of Lady Eleanore'sball. Without much extravagance of eulogy, the spectacle might even betermed splendid; for, according to the fashion of the times, theladies shone in rich silks and satins, outspread overwide-projecting hoops; and the gentlemen glittered in gold embroidery,laid unsparingly upon the purple, or scarlet, or sky-blue velvet,which was the material of their coats and waistcoats. The latterarticle of dress was of great importance, since it enveloped thewearer's body nearly to the knees, and was perhaps bedizened withthe amount of his whole year's income, in golden flowers andfoliage. The altered taste of the present day- a taste symbolic of adeep change in the whole system of society- would look upon almost anyof those gorgeous figures as ridiculous; although that evening theguests sought their reflections in the pierglasses, and rejoiced tocatch their own glitter amid the glittering crowd. What a pity thatone of the stately mirrors has not preserved a picture of the scene,which, by the very traits that were so transitory, might have taughtus much that would be worth knowing and remembering!
Would, at least, that either painter or mirror could convey to ussome faint idea of a garment, already noticed in this legend- the LadyEleanore's embroidered mantle- which the gossips whispered wasinvested with magic properties, so as to lend a new and untriedgrace to her figure each time that she put it on! Idle fancy as it is,this mysterious mantle has thrown an awe around my image of her,partly from its fabled virtues, and partly because it was thehandiwork of a dying woman, and, perchance, owed the fantastic graceof its conception to the delirium of approaching death.
