The Purcell Papers, vol 2 | Page 8

took charge of the horses; the hall-door stood open,
and I entered a gloomy and imperfectly lighted apartment, and found
no one within. However, I had not long to wait in this awkward
predicament, for before my luggage had been deposited in the house,
indeed, before I had well removed my cloak and other wraps, so as to
enable me to look around, a young girl ran lightly into the hall, and
kissing me heartily, and somewhat boisterously, exclaimed:
'My dear cousin, my dear Margaret-- I am so delighted--so out of
breath. We did not expect you till ten o'clock; my father is somewhere
about the place, he must be close at hand. James--Corney --run out and
tell your master--my brother is seldom at home, at least at any
reasonable hour--you must be so tired--so fatigued--let me show you to

your room-- see that Lady Margaret's luggage is all brought up--you
must lie down and rest yourself--Deborah, bring some coffee--up these
stairs; we are so delighted to see you--you cannot think how lonely I
have been--how steep these stairs are, are not they? I am so glad you
are come--I could hardly bring myself to believe that you were really
coming--how good of you, dear Lady Margaret.'
There was real good-nature and delight in my cousin's greeting, and a
kind of constitutional confidence of manner which placed me at once at
ease, and made me feel immediately upon terms of intimacy with her.
The room into which she ushered me, although partaking in the general
air of decay which pervaded the mansion and all about it, had
nevertheless been fitted up with evident attention to comfort, and even
with some dingy attempt at luxury; but what pleased me most was that
it opened, by a second door, upon a lobby which communicated with
my fair cousin's apartment; a circumstance which divested the room, in
my eyes, of the air of solitude and sadness which would otherwise have
characterised it, to a degree almost painful to one so dejected in spirits
as I was.
After such arrangements as I found necessary were completed, we both
went down to the parlour, a large wainscoted room, hung round with
grim old portraits, and, as I was not sorry to see, containing in its ample
grate a large and cheerful fire. Here my cousin had leisure to talk more
at her ease; and from her I learned something of the manners and the
habits of the two remaining members of her family, whom I had not yet
seen.
On my arrival I had known nothing of the family among whom I was
come to reside, except that it consisted of three individuals, my uncle,
and his son and daughter, Lady T----n having been long dead. In
addition to this very scanty stock of information, I shortly learned from
my communicative companion that my uncle was, as I had suspected,
completely retired in his habits, and besides that, having been so far
back as she could well recollect, always rather strict, as reformed rakes
frequently become, he had latterly been growing more gloomily and
sternly religious than heretofore.
Her account of her brother was far less favourable, though she did not
say anything directly to his disadvantage. From all that I could gather
from her, I was led to suppose that he was a specimen of the idle,

coarse-mannered, profligate, low-minded 'squirearchy'--a result which
might naturally have flowed from the circum- stance of his being, as it
were, outlawed from society, and driven for companionship to grades
below his own--enjoying, too, the dangerous prerogative of spending
much money.
However, you may easily suppose that I found nothing in my cousin's
communication fully to bear me out in so very decided a conclusion.
I awaited the arrival of my uncle, which was every moment to be
expected, with feelings half of alarm, half of curiosity--a sensation
which I have often since experienced, though to a less degree, when
upon the point of standing for the first time in the presence of one of
whom I have long been in the habit of hearing or thinking with interest.
It was, therefore, with some little perturbation that I heard, first a slight
bustle at the outer door, then a slow step traverse the hall, and finally
witnessed the door open, and my uncle enter the room. He was a
striking-looking man; from peculiarities both of person and of garb, the
whole effect of his appearance amounted to extreme singularity. He
was tall, and when young his figure must have been strikingly elegant;
as it was, however, its effect was marred by a very decided stoop. His
dress was of a sober colour, and in fashion anterior to anything which I
could remember. It was, however, handsome, and by no means