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Leader (1850-1860), 23rd October 1858, Edition 2 of 2, Page 12, THE LEADER

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      My Ladt. - . • My Lady : A Tale Of Moder...

      lysed ; the flush ou her cheek , the feverish lustre of that eye , which saw no material . thing around , yet was so vivid and occupied , were enough to tell how busy , how intensely engaged , how far from idleness were my lady's thoughts . Yes , no widowhood could have made such an entire and instantaneous disruption , such an abrupt termination of all her previous life ; her mind , her heart , her imagination were in a tumult , not of jealousy , or vengefulness , or despair , but of eager , anxious , painful questioning—what to do ?

      For Lady Umphraville was not a passionate woman idolatrously devoted to the man who was her lover and her husband ; she was au affectionate wife , knowing no interests but his , no love of which he had not a part ; no emergency could have fallen upon Sir Philip , in which lie could not have relied upon my lady to the furthest limit of all her cares and powers . Sickness , misfortune , necessity of any kind , would have made ber cheerful solicitude , devotion : he was her husband , the central point of all her many concerns—but nothing human could have narrowed her healthful mind and nature into one burning passion ; she was a woman , an individual being , a mother charged with the weightiest duties , a member of aocietv ; she was not only and solely a wife .

      Therefore she had no mind to be a Queen Eleanor : it was not cruel pangs of jealousy which overwhelmed her ; she was not jealous so much as disgusted— -a far less recoverable condition—disgusted , sickened , horrified , feeling almost a humiliation in her own person , and struck with the amazed and uncomprehending wonder , common enough to women , how he , the nearest to her own heart so long , could have had so little appreciation , so little knowledge of her , as to prefer a woman who could be polluted to her own most spotless self . This amazement , painful and humiliating , went to the heart of the deserted wife ; a sore , mortified , humbled surprise , now was it possible ? and , conjoined to that , a hasty indignant plunge into new plans and arrangements—a troubled and rapid consideration—what to do .

      The children , —ah I the children , —young lives so . innocent , so honourable , unaware of evil , —had the polluted father , and not the pure mother , the first right to their guardianship ? . . . . . . My lady sat alone in her chamber , a . forsaken woman , suffering the darkness to fall over her solitude , —a veil to the tumult of her thoughts . "When it was quite dark , a sudden vivid consciousness of her position struck her like an . arrow : she was widowed , bereaved ; the Philip of her pure imagination , the father of her children , where was h « gone ? Oh ! it was horrible , horrible ! She closed her hands over her eyes with a desperate pressure , as if that could shut it out ; but the night had fallen , dark , cloudy , and starless , —it hid my lady ' s agony from every human eye , even from her own .

      This is good writing , full of truth and fine womanly feeling- -Lady Umphraville having outwardly recovered from the blow , sets her house in order , preparing to vacate it as soon as her erring husband returns , but described as trembling lest her son Hugh should encounter his father ; a fear , however , that turns out to have been superfluous , very much probably to the surprise or the disappointment of the reader , who is led to expect from the

      description given of the character of Hugh that some striking scene may be looked for when father and son meet , The daily affairs of the family go on for some time much in their usual course . Hugh becomes affianced to a distant relation / Susan Mitford , when , suddenly , the smooth current of cvenf , s is interrupted by the abrupt return of the sheepishly repentant Sir Philip Umphraville , who enters his own house and comes into the presence of his insulted wife and family in this very uuhoroic

      manner : — " Ah t here J am , you see , " said Sir Philip , ' newly arrived and desperately cold and hungry . How d ' ye do , Eleanor ? very glad to mid you looking so cozy : one relishes coming homo , I can toll you , after a journey in such a night . " Hugh made a step forward in defiance , meaning , in his fiery young indignation , to demand how Sir Philip dared to enter his mother ' s presence ; but it did not need the voice of my lady to prevent him : in another

      moment , the youth stood trembling , silenced . It was his father : there ho stood , —it might bo , guilty ; it might be , disgraced ; it might be , contemptible ; but still his father , strong in the inalienable rights of nature . Hugh ' s lip quivered , hia voice was choked ; ho turned away , giving up even hia mother ' s hand , to cover his fuoo with his own in shamo , which was all the deeper because he oould not accompany it with roaontmont ; and thus , though Rothes stood darkly rod by the ohalr from which ho bad riaon , and Evelyn kept olosu bohlnd hor mothor , nay lady met hor husband alone .

      " What the dovil do you moan , " cried Sir Philip , " staring at mo ns though I wore a ghost ? What's all this pla ^ y , my lady ? If you think I ' m going to play penitent before thoao boys , you ' re in a douood mlatako , I can toll you . Iloro , ICvio , como hero , child , and kiaa your father !" Evelyn came forward slowly , na pnlo a 9 marble . He

      kissed her white cheek roughly , stared at her , and , thrusting her aside , went forward to the fire , where he threw himself into . an easy chair . Sir Philip comforted himself by" thinking he had very good reason to be angry ; he whistled , and his repentance evaporated in the whistle : already he was an ill-used man . ' And my lady , whose strength had failed her at this crisis , and who had found nothing to say , who scarcely felt anything but the tingling and thrilling at her heart , had to bestir herself now . " Ring the bell , Rothes , " she said ; " your father wants refreshments . Evelyn , you may take Harry upstairs ; and you need not come down again , my love , if you feel fatigued : good night ! Have you dined , Sir Philip ? " . ...... . , . ! this is what call

      " Dined ? Oh , d- it all you welcoming a man home , " said the penitent husband , poking the fire fiercely and turning his back upon them all . This is all we think worth extracting . Lady Umphraville leaves her husband ' s house with her two daughters , and takes another at sonic distance . After a variety of unimportant events—a duel between Hugh and the brother of the woman with whom Sir Philip eloped , in which Hugh is wounded , amon"" them—Lady Umphraville falls sick of an infectious fever ana expires . Sir Philip marries again and recovers his spirits , but does not find the same happiness in his second marriage that he threw away with his first .

      The great fault in this otherwise very well told story is the character of Sir Philip . No one . _ by any amount of good-natured stretch of imagination can fancy that such a feeble , common-place nonentity could turn lady-killer in . middle-age , and . induce a beautiful woman to forsake her home jiour V amour tie ses beaux yeux . The thing appears but of nature-, and just so much as we feel a thorough contempt for Sir Philip does our respect and sympathy for Lady Umphravile diminish . However , as we said at the outset , the novel is a good one , might have been better , and altogeher is very far beyond the common run of novels ot the dav .

      The Leader

      THE LEADER

      [ No . 448 , October 23 , 1858

      1124

      Hills And Hollows, Mils And Hollows. By ...

      HILLS AND HOLLOWS , mils and Hollows . By the Author of " Blanche the Betrothed . " J . C . Newby . Those who are partial to semi-Irish novels will be very much , pleased with Hills and Hollows ; but that portion of the English public who have but little faitli in the verisimilitude of the patterns of perfection which Irish authors love to palm on English readers as true t ypes of Irish character , will take a more qualified view of the merits of the work . Another drawback , and a serious one on this side the Channel , is , that the Roman Catholic element is made rather too prettily prominent for

      English Protestant tastes . The story opens with a double marriage of the daughters of General Melville . Isabella weds an elderly , a valetudinarian lord , with a large estate ; Alice , ' a young , handsome , animated , gentlemanlike , Irishman , not overburdened with the needful . The sisters , after the wedding , separate , one to her worldly , unlovable state and grandeur in England ; the other to love and Castlcphelim , the family estate in Ireland . Castlephelim , however , turns out to be " an old house of two stories hiirli , witli heavy , whitish slates , having a

      low addition at the back , comprising kitchen and servants' rooms . " The real Castlephelinj » is a roofloss ruin , " surrounded by four full-grown troes , and forming a charming feature in the landscape . " Tho husband , Donald O'Neill , soon finds himself in embarrassed oircumstancos , mainly owing to the expenditure on homo improvements of his loving and lovely English wife . Two children are the fruit of this union , llayinond , handsome , pious— : after tho Roman Catholic pattern—and with every virtue that can adorn human nature ; and Arabella , who is almost the reverse of hor brother , and unlike either father or mother , boing somewhat proternaturally prim , selfish , and calculating . An elderly

      lady , Mrs , Sclwvn , aunt to Mrs . O'Neill , is mtroduced , whose cliicf characteristic appears to bo a rooted dislike to everything Irish , and " a bitter railing at all Irish porsons and places . " A lapso of about twenty years takes place , and wo find that the husband , after quitting Castlcphelim and taking lodgings in Jersoy , suddenly leaves his wife and family to struggle through thoir dilHcultics as best they may . Arabella goes to England , and is taken enro of by hor relatives 5 Raymond also takoa up hia abode in England to push his fortune there , lie booomca acquainted with his cousin , Lord Gruntloy , tho future Earl of Hampton . Lady Hampton ( Isabella Molvillo ) , after living a life of

      cold , austere virtue for some years , still bc . au tiful , but chilled in her best affections , comes across tie lover of her youth , Ernest Bland ; a renewal of former intimacy , takes place ,, and this brings us oil to the best scene and the best bit of writing in the woi k . Lord Hampton at last becomes jealous and suspicious from overhearing , at his club , some free comments on the intercourse between his lady and Ernest Bland . After a scene or two which partially opens Lady Hampton ' s eyes to the new feelings of her lord , an intercepted letter brings on a crisis . A powerfully dramatic scene ensues : — " My visitors denied—my letters suppressed—my friends banished—and my life miserable ! " gasped Lady Hampton , growing fiercer at every word .

      As she stood erect in this excited state , with the forenoon sun glittering in her expanded pupils , and shining athwart the glossy , black braids of her hair , anew sense of wrong and oppression arousing all her natural pride and opposition , the door opened , and her husband appeared . Their eyes met , and his fell before her indignant glance . " Where is my letter , Lord Hampton ? " she quickly demanded . " You may unjustly control your menials , but beware of cowardly interference with my conduct ! Give me my letter to Mrs . Morley . " " What letter ? Madam , you forget yourself , " he returned evasively , but losing temper all the while .

      " Oh ! I did forget myself when I was won by tinsel , " she retorted , with disdain . " Think hot to blind me with prevarications ; you possessed 3 'durself of my letter , because you have descended to mean envy , and . would see injuries where none exist . " " If I interrupted your secret correspondence with a villain , it is to save " your already injured name , " he replied furiously . " Secret correspondence ! villain ! " she echoed . " Never

      secret hitherto ; but suspicion breeds secrecy . Ernest Bland is as superior to your opinion of him , as your base , underhand artifices render you inferior to what my husband . ought to be . I never have had a thought un . worthy of a reproachless wife ; I never wrote a . line unfit for your eves to rest on . But I found a friend of early youth , congenial with my tastes ; you no more could comprehend our spirit-language than you could tolerate the man whose intellect and feeling were a world to me amidst my lonelv grandeur . "

      " Be he what he may , " roared her husband , with rage , " vou shall learn to live without him , or without me ! The world shall not point its finger at me , and whisper about my wife ! Choose between us !" There was an instant's pause ! Isabel ground Ler teeth , then shrieked , — " / choose !" Maddened at the taunts and insults she had so undeservedly received , her whole soul on fire , she does not hesitate a moment in her rash resolve . She has a previous appointment with Ernest m the park ; she wraps a shawl round her and lmmcs to the rendezvous ; she meets Ernest , and after a short , agitated conversation , he communicates to her that lie is about to be married . The announcement is like an ice-bolt through hor sensitive heart , but it shows her at once the precipice on Aviuch she stood . She narts from Ernest , and here is a vivid

      and powerful delineation of her feelings : — When Isabel was alone with hor self-wrouglrt misery , her brain burned with mental and bodily fever , buo roamed from one thicket to another , missing her way , —if anything purposed indeed were hers . That sheiliao lost Ernest by his free deliberate choice , and her husband through hor own rebellious humour , were alike plain to her . All she sighed for was death ! Daro she return and petition for forgiveness , —acknowledge her evil intention ? Tho good angel answered , " Yes , go back ana beg for mercy . " But quickly was the thought dashed aside by the "blackness of darkness , " tho friend a despair and prido , hissing doubt and defiance into nor soul . " Why should I crouch to him ? Would ho not spurn mo loo ? Is there no deep water nnyw'ioro t a » brook ; to cool hor parched lips , or to receive her n ""™ " * form far down below ita sparkling sur || xc 0 / iivOrc ( l tompost-tost mind ; woro you indeed so wholly uouver * .

      over to ain r _ . ,., nftf No ! the temptation mado hor shiuiaer . She aia , n « know horaolf in her now character , and she lay » dU b "; . f down on a low , green mossy knoll beneath nn »«« a ~"' around which younger trees woro springing , « wwi lovoly aummor ' a day ; peucofulnoaa reigned evcry > nero but in that bosom whoso " one orrpr' hftd uuou »»» " with faults . " It was more that aho had consmttU : to full , rnthor than that aho found hoi-solf slig htod , that tmu devoured lior with romorso and anguish . > » lftD ?;"" shouot ff ivo to bo a siulcaa bird , Hying * ° 't s WddOT , happy noat , like that goldllnch that aho had boon wwtc « ln ff tfipro ho earnestly amidst all hor torture ! Or an in nocont , unnoticed flower , Ilka any of thoao vlolots ono cowall . a that 8 ho ao abstractedly culled into bunches ,

      ami then flung impatiently ntildo ! it , i »» wai "To . bo where Aooyo oould boo mo . I o ** * ^ * £ hor wild ueairo . « No eye t" -ho repeated , » Can IU not boo roo—who mado all thla soorot , lonely po « co ana

  • Citation
    • Leader (1850-1860), Oct. 23, 1858, page 12, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse-os.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/cld_23101858/page/12/