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Mr. Falconer was, or rather had been, a country gentleman in the north of Ireland, where his ancestors had long flourished in the midst of an attached tenantry, thankful for their residence, and proud of their merit. His father, it is true, had early in life made a trip to Bath, which occasioned a mortgage on his estate, but he brought thence a wife whose future fortunes repaired it, and he determined in consequence of this error, to bring up this his only son at home, and so imbue his mind with the love of his country, so satisfy his desire of pleasure by the indulgences he would procure him, that the mania of spending his estate in England, which was even then a very prevalent one, should never affect the head of his beloved Carlos.

Year after year passed on, and the cares of parental solicitude appeared to attain their object. The youth became unrivalled as a sportsman, seldom sighed even for a winter in Dublin, and had the further merit of entering with the utmost ardour into the various schemes for bettering his estates, which now employed the riper years of his father—so that what with following hounds, or birds; raising fences, or destroying them, draining bogs, irrigating commons, clearing rough land, cultivating meadows, feeding cattle, netting fish, dancing at balls of all kinds, riding to meetings of all descriptions,—aiding his father to entertain the gentlemen, and his mother to amuse the ladies; Carlos was fully employed, and although he always "kept moving," in a more extended sense,

"He ne'er had changed, or wished to change his place."

A terrible accident deprived Mr. Falconer of his excellent father, a few months after his minority had passed, and might be said to give his mother a death-blow at the same time; since she never afterwards recovered her spirits, or enjoyed her health. To assist her efforts, they now made a trip to England, crossing to Chester, and thence proceeding to Blackpool where they remained some time. Here the sorrows of the truly mourning son were consoled by the passion which a beautiful orphan inspired, who was then lamenting the death of her mother, and had been brought by her guardian to this place for that change of scene, and relief of mind, which they also sought.

Carlos was handsome, frank, ingenuous, attentive, and at this period interesting in no common degree—he was also of ancient family, unsullied character, large, independent property; of course the young creature to whom he paid his devoirs, and who was scarcely more than a child, and her prudent guardian were alike pleased with him, and his mother was not less pleased with them. The only deficiency of good in this case, was the want of some difficulty to conquer, some trouble to go through, by which the busy, bustling, active Carlos could be employed. A journey with the guardian over great part of North Wales, followed by another to Sharon-Lacey, supplied this deficiency, after which the truly impatient bridegroom had the felicity of conducting his bride thither also, who, even then, had not attained her sixteenth year.

Mrs. Falconer was exquisitely beautiful, but so delicate that she resembled an exotic plant unfit to bear change to a less genial atmosphere; and it soon became evident to her idolizing husband and his tender mother, that the wide hospitalities so long established at Sharon-Lacey, could not be sustained by her. In consequence, to a certain degree they were diminished; but as Mr. Falconer was not a reading man, in proportion as he was withdrawn from company, he engaged the more in field sports, which pursuit gave way by degrees to a passion for improvement, which he pushed without the knowledge attained by experience, or even connected with the theories offered by others, to an extent which soon became alarming, and combined with previous circumstances to bring his mother to the grave, at the period when her jointure became necessary for his relief.

By this time he had become immersed in schemes which took such entire possession of his mind, that he might be said to grow rich in imagination, in proportion as he was poor in purse; and his young wife listened with artless, unquestioning simplicity, to his golden dreams for a considerable time, happy in his happiness, and more than contented with the personal comforts, and unsparing indulgences, with which his love and his thoughtlessness alike supplied her. The sorrows and death of his mother, and his eager appropriation of that mother's property, notwithstanding his sincere regret, opened her eyes, and she endeavoured to win him from pursuing phantoms which might end in ruin; and, as it was necessary for them both to visit England on account of her coming of age, she appeared to have every prospect of succeeding in her wishes.

A large sum of money in the funds, and an extensive, ancient, but not very productive estate, were now put into the hands of this young couple, and unhappily the wedding settlement of the lady was also entrusted to her own keeping. Mr. Falconer entered on his new possessions with apparent wisdom, for he stopped suddenly all his former projects whether good or bad, made a considerable reform in his establishment, observing (perhaps justly) "that a rich man may do, what a poor one dare not," and then bade his wife farewel, and returned again to her property in Wales.

He had taken it into his head that a mountain on this estate, whose only merit had hitherto been that of a sheep walk, would prove to him a mine rich as Peruvia's in the product of iron ore, and so much was he bent on this pursuit, that he resolved to sacrifice every other scheme for its attainment.

To this end, he now resigned the company of a lovely and beloved wife, who was to him, and found in him, all the relations of life, and the endearing prattle of a sweet infant, in whose very appearance he would have found a useful monitor, reminding him of her claims as the heir of two ancient inheritances, and as a female unallied and unprotected save by himself.

But alas! every schemer is a gambler, not originally moved by the same avarice, but certainly acted upon by the same impetus. Falconer in domestic life was a warm friend, a generous master, a noble landlord, an affectionate husband; but when he escaped that sacred circle, his prevailing passion exerted over him the influence ascribed to demoniac possession, and carried him "whithersoever it would." There was no fatigue too great for him to encounter, no scheme too wild for him to adopt, if it forwarded his end, and by the same rule no expense too exorbitant for him to adventure. So much "had appetite increased e'en by the meat it fed on," that in changing the subject, he only confirmed the propensity, which by this time had nearly swallowed up every other predilection, and become not less his amusement than his business.

Iron ore was indeed found, but it produced no golden harvest, and required a larger capital than our unfortunate projector could now command, and as the working of his mine naturally led him to an acquaintance with those who were likely to purchase iron, he became necessarily much connected with that town in which the most was consumed, and after the lapse of a few years formed a partnership with two persons whom he justly conceived better acquainted with the commercial part of his undertaking than himself. These years had been spent by Mrs. Falconer in great anxiety, and comparative solitude, for she had been without the company of him whom she held as dear to her heart, as attractive to her sight, as he had ever been. It will be naturally concluded, that in such a situation her child had enjoyed a paramount place in the consideration of the young mother, and, that although in some respects blameably indulged, yet as being the constant companion and pupil of her mother, the partaker of her cares and charities—her gentle controul over numerous dependants, her hospitable receptions of noble and enlightened visitants, she had imbibed an exercise of heart and understanding, an attachment to her mother which went beyond the common ties of nature, as they are felt by affectionate children in general.

The hurrying visits of Mr. Falconer to his own house, the deep solicitude too generally impressed at this period upon his countenance, and the consternation in which all around appeared left, after his departure, would undoubtedly have tended to render his presence productive of pain, rather than pleasure to Maria, if she had not witnessed the more than happiness with which her mamma beheld him, and the overwhelming sorrow which followed his departures, and which she attributed simply to the fact of his going to England, which she therefore considered a very naughty place, and reprobated with all the warmth of her country and the simplicity of her age.

At length the time arrived when it became necessary for them all to remove thither—Sharon-Lacey, long mortgaged to its utmost value, became the property of one who had freely supplied the speculating improver to this very end, and consoled himself at those moments when his conscience reproved him for the removal of an old and highly estimated family, by observing "that as there was no son, the name of Falconer would in the course of a few years inevitably perish, and antedating that event was of no great moment."

When the time came the heart of Falconer was indeed wounded, but he felt called upon as a husband to support his wife, who, although willing to return to her native country under circumstances of diminished importance, and desirous of embracing any situation which secured his society, could not witness the bitter sorrow of her Irish peasantry and hear the lamentations of her servants, without acute suffering. Rich and poor, old and young, poured in upon them with that genuine fulness of sympathy, that mixed language of grief, reproach and intreaty, which spoke an interest in their future welfare, a remembrance of past favours, and indignation towards their supposed enemies, indicating all the intense feelings that agitate the genuine Irishman, and which the present circle felt they had the more right to express, because Mr. Falconer had been destined from his birth to live and die amongst them by his still lamented father.

Yet a sense of what was due to "his honour," in what they deemed "his day of sorrow," and still more their deep respect for his gentle lady, somewhat restrained their intrusion, but whilst the aged people hung round their horses' necks, and the young ones sought, by rendering themselves useful, to show the last fond services of hearts which could only endure their feelings by expressing them through some medium; many gathered round the child, on whom they gazed with an admiration that was almost idolatry, and deplored, as if she were a victim appointed to sacrifice.

"Ah! it's little your honoured grandfather looked to such a day as this my swate crature!—but its like ye'll come back to your place lady in due time, an then you'll remember the childer if my head be laid—becase they're all your own to the thing in my arms—look up Sheely dare and make your obadience to miss."

"Hold your tongue, wife, what for would ye brake the heart o' the angel? is'nt the eyes of her running over all day wi laving the birds, and the hounds, and the childer, and the foals, that she fed wi her own beautiful hands—oh! blessing on the hour she'll reign over us."

If those who help us in the day of distress are dear to us, still more dear are those we have assisted, and as poor little Maria heard the blessings called on her head, from lips that had hailed her approach on the bed of sickness, or in the hour of want, she felt as if they were so dear to her, so entwined with her earliest recollections, and her happiest moments, that her very heart was breaking under the pain of separation.

Indeed she was so terribly affected at the last, that Mr. Falconer was obliged to carry her in his arms to the carriage, and nothing less powerful than the sight of her mother's tears, could have induced her to make the efforts to overcome her sorrow, necessary for her own health and the comfort of her alarmed parents. Novelty of scene at length roused that curiosity so natural to her age, and succeeded in effecting the cure of her grief, yet it was by slow degrees, and with many relapses, that she returned to that composure of spirits which enabled her to enjoy the new, and, of course, attractive scenes which were offered in their journey from Scotland (where they landed) to the distant town of B——.

Mr. Falconer had with due attention to the health, habits, and taste of his lady, procured her a house about two miles out of town, which had been very handsomely furnished by the cares of Mrs. Ingalton, his partner's wife; was surrounded by the necessary appendages of a gentleman's house on a small scale, and certainly possessed in its narrow bounds many comforts, and even elegances, which would have been looked for in vain either in the old rambling manor house where she was born in Wales, or the turretted, but of late neglected walls of Sharon-Lacey. The wife was still young enough to conform her taste to circumstances, and in possessing the husband from whom she had been so much divided, and assuring herself of his undiminished affection, she felt thankful for the change in her situation, and ventured to look forward with hope to brighter prospects, as offered by her still sanguine husband. Maria was now not less willing to be pleased, but the novelties around were by no means agreeable. She said, "the pretty rooms were only like large closets, the garden itself was only a great carpet—there was no orchard, no dairy, no long room for dances, above all, no aviary nor green-house, and when you looked out of the windows there was only one green meadow on the other side of a broad dusty road—no river—no mountains, nor even a common with huts upon it, there were neither children nor pigs as far as she could see, nor any thing to be kind to whatever."

All these wants were forgotten the following Christmas, when her father brought home a little Welsh girl, the daughter of a respectable man whom he had employed there, and who had bequeathed her and the few hundreds he had saved, to the care of a master whom he justly deemed honourable and liberal. She was about a year older than Maria, pretty, artless, gentle, and affectionate, but little informed and wholly devoid of accomplishment. It was the great joy of Maria's heart to give and to love, and she seized on Ellen Powis in a twofold sense, for the purpose of expending upon her all the good in her power. The aid bestowed on the lovely little orphan was returned sevenfold in her own improvement—the little mad cap Irish, and the untaught Welsh girl, became every day more attached to each other, and so forward in their education as to attract the admiration of all who knew them.

This was at present, perhaps, rather a sensible, than a polished, circle—few old families resided in the immediate neighbourhood of a manufacturing town, but the only two who came under this description, and who had always held themselves aloof from all connection with the inhabitants of B—— (whatever their wealth or local influence) visited Mrs. Falconer immediately on her arrival, and treated her not less with marked respect as one of themselves, than with that affectionate interest her person, manners, and situation were calculated to excite. These were General and Mrs. Birchett, an elderly couple, whose children were dispersed by marriage and profession abroad in the world, and Sir James and Lady Trevannion, a young couple, married within a year or two, of amiable manners and good disposition, although continuing to hold a strong line of demarcation with their plebeian neighbourhood, which returned with interest every indication of pride or contempt.

The first name in the house with which Mr. Falconer had joined himself was Mayton, a gay bachelor, the third as we already have observed, was Ingalton, a man of mild, unassuming deportment, married to an amiable, lady-like woman, who had made him the happy father of a promising family. The first partner travelled much as they had an extensive iron foundery in Sweden; the last in the firm managed their affairs at home, for which he was well calculated in every respect, save the delicacy of his general health. Mr. Falconer held a middle station, as having too little knowledge for a leader, yet being too important to be placed last, and reduced as his fortune really was, he yet brought with him a reinforcement of money, which was of great consequence to the house, and was magnified so much by report, that he now entered on his new station under circumstances not less flattering to his self-love, than to those hopes, it was his error and misfortune to indulge.