LADY MACLAIRN, THE _VICTIM OF VILLANY_. A NOVEL. IN FOUR VOLUMES. BY MRS. HUNTER, OF NORWICH, AUTHOR OF LETITIA; THE UNEXPECTED LEGACY; THE HISTORY OF THE GRUBTHORPE FAMILY; PALMERSTONE'S LETTERS, &c. &c. VOL. II. _LONDON_: PRINTED FOR W. EARLE AND J.W. HUCKLEBRIDGE; AND SOLD BY W. EARLE, NO. 47, ALBEMARLE STREET; GEORGE ROBINSON, PATERNOSTER ROW; B. CROSBY AND CO. STATIONER'S COURT; THO. OSTELL, AVE MARIA LANE; AND ALL OTHER BOOKSELLERS. 1806. [_Barnard and Sultzer, Water Lane, Fleet Street._] LADY MACLAIRN, THE _VICTIM OF VILLANY_. CHAP. I. LETTER XIII. _Miss Cowley to Miss Hardcastle._ Wednesday Evening. I Know, my dear Lucy, that you will expect the sequel of the disastrous tale contained in my last letter; and that you will very ingeniously contrive to muster up many conclusive arguments to prove that Rachel Cowley's health will be absolutely ruined at Tarefield. Facts are, however, stubborn things. She has passed this trial of her strength without a fever on her nerves, notwithstanding a cold which, on Monday and yesterday, gave her a pretence for keeping her apartment and nursing the poor baronet. On the Monday morning Malcolm gave me to understand, with visible uneasiness, that his father had betaken himself to the lately deserted room, with the grated windows, and he implored me to endeavour to allure him from it. I wrote a card instantly, informing him I waited breakfast for him, and that I had a new book for his perusal. It succeeded; but I was shocked to see the effects of _one_ night's disturbance of that mind, which we had exultingly seen settling into tranquillity. He was shivering and languid, and told his wife he had taken cold; but she perceived, as well as myself, that he was dispirited and extremely nervous. Nothing can equal this woman! To see her at this moment, I could not but love her. She was calm and cheerful; soothing and tender; whilst in a thousand various ways she diverted his attention; and although I knew she had watched at Miss Flint's bedside from three o'clock, she did not name her, nor did she appear fatigued. I took my turn to be good, and, dismissing her, said, that as I had also a cold, the valetudinarians would have but one infirmary; that she might dispose of Mrs. Allen, for we meant to be in the sullens and read. Sir Murdock raised his dejected head; the eye was animated, and I was contented. I took my work and placed before him the Vicar of Wakefield. "Shall I not read it aloud?" asked he.--"No," replied I, "unless you find a passage that particularly strikes you." He bowed, for Sir Murdock Maclairn is the truly polite man. I soon perceived that his attention was engaged. Whose is not, Lucy, by that work? This made me happy; yes, happy, I repeat, for I reverence this interesting man; and I believe there is a fatal grief which will, whilst he lives, oppress his mind. Mrs. Allen soon joined us; she was also the invalid; but it slackened not her industry.