“In this position of our affairs, it chanced that we were both in attendance on the Queen at Kew; where one evening a chosen few, distinguished by her Majesty's favour, formed a select circle. The conversation turned upon music, and the Queen who had been describing with national partiality the beauty of the hymns sung by the Portuguese mariners, suddenly addressing me, observed that since she left her native country she had heard no vocal music which had given her pleasure except from the lips of Miss Marchmont: 'I cannot' said she kindly smiling, 'as you may perceive, forget the name of one whose society I prized so highly; but if 'Lady Greville' will pardon my inadvertence, and oblige me by singing one of those airs with which she was wont formerly to charm me to sleep when I suffered either mental or bodily affliction, I will in turn forgive you, my lord, for robbing me of the attendance of my friend.'

“Theresa instantly obeyed, and while she hung over her instrument her attitude was so graceful, that the Queen again observed to me, 'we must have our Theresa seen by Lely in that costume, and thus occupied she would make a charming study for his pencil; and I promise myself the pleasure of possessing it as a lasting memorial of my young friend.' The portrait to which this observation gave rise, you must have seen yourself, my Helen, in the gallery at Silsea castle.

“While I was thus engaged by her Majesty, I observed the Duke of Buckingham approach my wife with an air of deference bordering on irony; he appeared to make some unpleasant request which he affected to urge with an earnestness beyond the rules of gallantry or good breeding, and which she refused with an appearance of haughtiness I had never before seen her excise. He than respectfully addressed the Queen, and entreated her intercession with Lady Greville for a favourite Italian air, one, he said, which her Majesty had probably never enjoyed the happiness of hearing—but before the Queen could reply, before I had time to inquire into the cause of the agony and shame which were mingled in Lady Greville's looks, she covered her brow with her hands, and exclaimed with hysteric violence, 'No, never more—never again. Alas! it is too late.'

“The queen, herself too deeply skilled in the sorrows of a wounded heart, appeared warmly to compassionate the distress which had robbed her favourite of all presence of mind; and rising evidently to divert the attention of the circle, whose malignant smiles were instantly repressed, she invited us to follow her into the adjoining gallery, at that time occupied by Sir Peter Lely for the completion of his exquisite series of portraits of the beauties of Charles's court. In their own idle comments and petty jealousies arising from the resemblances before them, Lady Greville was forgotten.

“While I was deliberating the following morning, in what manner I could with delicacy interrogate Theresa on the extraordinary scene I had witnessed, I was surprised by her sudden but firm declaration that she could not, would not longer remain in the royal suite, and she concluded by imploring me on her knees, as I valued her peace of mind, her health, her salvation, to remove her instantly to Silsea. 'I have obtained her Majesty's private sanction,' said she, shewing me a billet in the hand-writing of the queen, 'and it only remains for you publicly to give in our resignation.' The letter was written in French, and contained the following words: 'Go, my beloved Theresa—dearly as I prize your society, I feel that our mutual happiness can only be ensured by the retirement you so prudently meditate. May it be a consolation to you to reflect that you must ever be remembered with respect and gratitude by, 'Your affectionate friend.'

“The terms of this billet surprised me, and I began to request an explanation, when Theresa interrupted me by saying hastily, 'Do not question me, for I cannot at present open my mind to you—but satisfy yourself that when I linked my fate to yours in the sight of God and man, your honour and happiness became precious to me as my own; and may He desert me in my hour of need, if in aught I fail to consult your reputation and peace of mind. Let me pray of you to leave this place without delay. I know that you will urge against me the benefit of avoiding the various surmises which will arise from the apparent precipitancy of our retreat; but trust to me, my lord, that it is a necessary measure, and that we have nothing to fear from the opposition of the king.

“The pretext we adopted for our hasty retirement from public life was the delicate state of Lady Greville's health, who was within a few months of becoming a mother; and having hastily passed through the necessary ceremonies, we again exchanged the tumults of the capital for the exquisite enjoyments and freedom of home. As we traversed the venerable avenue at Silsea, amid the acclamations of my assembled tenantry, I formed the resolution never again to desert the dwelling of my ancestors; but having now entered into the bonds of domestic life, to seek from them alone the future enjoyments of existence. I had in one respect immediate reason to congratulate myself on the change of our destiny, for Theresa, whose health had for some months gradually declined, soon regained her former strength in the quiet of the country. She occupied herself constantly in some active employment. The interests of the sick, the poor, and the decrepit, led her frequently to the village; where I doubt not you have often heard her named with gratitude and affection; and when she returned to the castle, the self-content of gratified benevolence spread a glow over her countenance which almost dispelled the clouds of sorrow still lingering there. All went well with us, and if I dared not flatter myself with being passionately beloved, I felt assured that I should in time obtain her entire confidence.

“I was beginning to look forward with the happy anxiety of affection to the event of Lady Greville's approaching confinement, when one morning I was surprised by the arrival of a courier with a letter from the Duke of Buckingham. I was astonished that he should take the trouble of renewing a correspondence with me; as a very slight degree of friendship had originally subsisted between us; and the displeasure publicly testified by Charles on my hasty removal from his service, had hitherto freed me from the importunities of my courtier acquaintance. The letter was apparently one of mere complimentary inquiry after the health of Lady Greville, to whom there was an enclosure, addressed to Miss Marchmont, which he begged me to deliver with his respectful services to my much-esteemed lady. He concluded with announcing some public news of a nature highly gratifying to every Briton, in the detail of a great victory obtained by our fleet over the Dutch admiral, De Ruyter. It was that, my Helen, in which your noble brother fell, a the moment of obtaining one of the most signal successes hitherto recorded in the naval annals of our country. You were too young to be conscious of the public sympathy testified towards this intrepid and unfortunate man, but I may safely affirm with the crafty Buckingham, that his loss dearly purchased even the splendid victory he had obtained. 'What news from the court,' said Theresa, as I entered the apartment in which she sat.

“'At once good and bad,' I replied. 'We have obtained a brilliant victory over De Ruyter; but alas! it has cost us the lives of several of our most distinguished officers.'

“She started from her seat, and wildly approaching me, whispered in a tone of suppressed agony, 'Tell me—tell me truly—is he dead?'