'I am not going to tell you all about my life, from the time I was carried out of Taunton jail until I was what you call "grown up." I shall take up my story at the time when I was maid of honour to Queen Mary the Second, and pass over, in the very briefest way, all the events which took place before that period. I must, however, explain how it came to pass that I attained such a dignity. My father had left England soon after the failure of Monmouth's Rebellion, and then joined heart and soul with the party of the Prince of Orange, and had rendered him such services, that when, a year and a half afterwards, William and Mary were proclaimed King and Queen of Great Britain, my father returned to England in their train, one of the most distinguished of their courtiers. Sir Bernard Dalrymple had played his cards well, everybody said; and if some of his friends whispered a suspicion that his attachment to the new sovereign was not entirely disinterested, his wife and children remembered simply that his influence had been exerted in the cause of English liberty and good government, and could join with all their hearts in the Church's yearly thanksgiving for "the deliverance of their nation from Popish tyranny and arbitrary power." And thus it was that, Sir Bernard continuing in high favour at Court, his daughter, as soon as she was old enough, was appointed one of the Queen's maids of honour, and so took the first step towards obtaining that splendid position which had been prophesied for her years before. Poor Sir Harry Mountfort! I hope my added years and mamma's teaching had somewhat increased my wisdom since the days when his flatteries had turned my head; but I confess I could not help thinking of his words with a slight feeling of satisfaction, when the news of my promotion was first announced to me. I am afraid that, like a silly girl as I was, the peaceful regularity of life at Horsemandown did not satisfy me so entirely as to prevent an occasional wish for something more exciting. What was the use of being Countess Desmond, if one was to be always shut up in the country? Why should I trouble myself to learn so many accomplishments, if I had no one to dance with but Oliver? no one to praise my singing but the old vicar of the parish (who, truth to tell, was too deaf to hear a note)? and where was the pleasure of being married, if one never by any chance saw or heard of one's husband? It was not often, however, that I was troubled with such discontented thoughts as these. During the years that had passed swiftly and happily away since that dreadful time at Taunton, I had learned to think of it as a sort of bad dream, so confused with the delirium of fever, that I could scarcely separate what was real from what was fanciful, when I tried to recollect all that had happened in the jail; and my remembrance of the Earl of Desmond was almost as hazy. I knew that he had obtained my freedom, and thereby saved my life; for I should surely have died in the fever but for home care and nursing, and I was grateful accordingly; but he never came to see us, and when I asked the reason, I was told that Sir Harry Mountfort (who had followed the fortunes of King James, and had taken his ward with him into France) wished our marriage to be broken off. My father's poverty was one reason for this; and another was Sir Harry's strong desire that Algernon should embrace the Roman Catholic faith, as he himself had done. I never knew exactly how the breaking off was to be managed; and though, I suppose, I was sorry, I took as a far more personal matter the loss of our riches, when there was a talk of selling Hebe and the other horses, and would have given up my rank and state with the greatest pleasure, if by doing so I could have kept my pretty pony. But I am forgetting my own rule, and talking too much about things which happened long before I entered upon my duties as a Court lady. My father's difficulties had ceased by that time, Hebe was my own again, and I was the Countess Desmond still, chiefly because Algernon had refused to forsake his father's faith; and it was not so easy to declare our marriage illegal whilst we both remained members of the Church of England. Sir Harry Mountfort was dead, and his ward of age; but Earl Desmond had not yet come to claim his bride. No; at the time when the said bride, in a flutter of shyness and delight, was making her final preparations for her presentation to Queen Mary, her husband was a banished man, his lands confiscated, and his life, if he returned to England, in danger. Algernon had fought on the Jacobite side in the battle of the Boyne, had served Louis the Fourteenth in the Irish Legion afterwards, had joined in one of the numerous conspiracies to place King James again on the English throne, and, finally, had brought on himself the dire displeasure of the Government by skilfully effecting the escape of an important adherent of King James from the Tower, where he lay under sentence of death for high treason. It was my father's turn now to declare that Lord Desmond was no fit match for his daughter; and he made the declaration very often, and utterly refused to listen when Oliver suggested that he might use his influence with the Government to get Algernon's sentence of banishment reversed, and at least some of his estates restored to him.
'"What would be the use," said Sir Bernard, "of risking the chance of doing myself an injury, when I feel that I have not sufficient power to be of the slightest service to Algernon? No; the greatest kindness to the unhappy boy would be to make an agreement with him to set his marriage aside, which could easily be done, now that he and Frances are both of age. The law requires nothing but the consent of both parties, which, I imagine, would be very easily obtained, and then I would pay over to him the dowry he was formerly to have received with his bride, and leave him free to choose a wife for himself among the ladies at the French Court."
'"If he can find one generous enough to follow his fallen fortunes," muttered Oliver; adding aloud, "And what is to become of her little Ladyship? Surely it is rather hard for her to come down from her pedestal, and be plain Mistress Frances Dalrymple once more!"
'"How long do you suppose she will remain Mistress Frances Dalrymple?" asked my father, with his grave, set smile. "Rely upon me to study what is best for my daughter's happiness, sir, and find some better employment than that of dictating to your elders what course of action is best for them to pursue."
'I was not present during this conversation, but Oliver told me all about it afterwards, and how completely he had failed in his attempt in Algernon's favour.
'"Perhaps you might have persuaded my father better, Frances," he said, "but you would not come forward. You might have a chance even now if you had the courage, for I am sure that, if he would, he could help Algernon; but I begin to doubt whether you are very anxious to help him, after all."
'I shook my head doubtfully at the idea of my appealing to Sir Bernard.
'"You want," continued Oliver, "to turn the heads of all the Court gallants before you bestow your foolish little heart upon anybody. Is that it? I have no patience with you. But women are all alike!"
'"Oh, Oliver," I cried, colouring crimson at such an accusation, "it's not that." But Oliver was vexed, and would not listen to my hesitating attempt at an explanation, and marched indignantly out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
'"Oh, what dolts men are sometimes!" said I to myself, with an impatient little stamp of my foot on the ground. "Why can't he understand that Earl Desmond would most likely far rather have my dowry, and be rid of me altogether? Why, he has never seen me since I was a little girl, and I do not think I made a great impression on him then." I laughed as I remembered the conversation we had had on our wedding day, and my confident assurances to my bridegroom that we could not be unmarried again if we wished it ever so much. "Supposing he does wish it," I thought, "if I could persuade my father to intercede for him, and he should get back his estates through our means, he would feel bound to take me along with them, out of gratitude to the family. I could not bear that." But after all he was my husband. He had saved my life, and I ought, in common gratitude, to do something to help him now he was poor and friendless. Oliver said I ought. I wondered what it would be right to do; and the tears started to my eyes, as the thought of how mamma would have counselled me, and made everything clear and plain to my understanding, rose to my mind. Alas! I could no longer go to her with every trouble or pleasure. In the way that lay before me, I must learn to guide my own steps aright, and to follow as well as I could the course she would have approved, while knowing all the time that I should never hear her voice in praise or blame again. It was now two years since we had lost her, and home had never seemed like home since. It was more lonely for me than for any of the others; for Miles was at Oxford, Roger at Eton, and Oliver, my chief friend and companion, had received his commission, and was burning to join the army in Flanders, and share in the honours our troops were winning there. With him away, my life at Horsemandown would be desolate indeed; and so I think there was some excuse for me if my head was a little turned by the change in my prospects. "After all," said I, drying my eyes as my meditations came to an end, "it is of no use thinking about it. Oliver thinks, because my father is so gentle and kind to me, that I have more power with him than he has; but I know quite well that nothing I could say in Algernon's favour would make any difference when he has once made up his mind. If my Lord Desmond wanted his wife, he should not have mixed himself up with those wicked conspiracies against our good King. 'Tis his own doing if he never sees my face again; and if he prefers my dowry to me, he is most welcome to it, as far as I am concerned." But as I ran up-stairs to inspect the preparations for my journey to London, I found myself wondering whether the French ladies were very beautiful—fairer than that face I caught a glimpse of as I passed a mirror in the withdrawing-room—and whether, if Lord Desmond was to see me—— But here I stopped, with a laugh at my own vanity; and having by this time arrived at my chamber door, I succeeded, by a violent effort, in banishing him from my mind, and was able to give undivided attention to the important question of the trimming of my shaded lutestring gown. Should the ruffles be of Flanders or guipure lace? and what colour should I choose for the bows of my new cornette cap?