CHAPTER XXVI. "I NEVER can bear so public a promenade as the Villa Reale," said Matilda to Ormsby, one of the first evenings after their arrival at Naples. 66 My dearest love," replied he, "let me entreat you not to take up so absurd an idea. You will distress me beyond measure, if you adopt habits of utter seclusion. It only requires a little resolution at first.-You will only have to cherish and maintain that indifference you formerly felt, for those whose prejudices may induce them to avoid you. But all whose notice you would really wish to seek, will make allowance for the peculiar circumstances in which you were involved; and in time, as my wife, I shall hope to see my Matilda restored to that society of which she is formed to be the brightest ornament. But if, on the other hand, you are resolutely bent on shutting yourself up, you will only make me miserable as well as yourself." "Dear Ormsby, though I am not convinced by your arguments, (in which I think you mistaken,) yet am I moved by the effect you threaten, and of which you alone can judge. Make you misejudge.—Make rable indeed! No, never will I hazard any thing that can tend to that.-If it must be so, to the Chiaja let us go. Ormsby, grateful for this concession on her part, was in high spirits, and exerted himself to dissipate the awkwardness which for the first time she felt at the universal admiration her appearance excited. The latter end of the summer, or beginning of autumn, is perhaps the season when there are fewest English at Naples; so that they had passed from one end to the other of the promenade, without meeting many of their countrymen, or any with whose faces they were acquainted. But, on one of the benches at the further end of the walk, Ormsby discovered a figure, stretching his lazy length along, and devouring an English newspaper, which he recognised to be that of his old acquaintance Harry Wordsworth, whose arrival in Italy, it may be recollected, was notified in Mrs. Mechlin's letter to Matilda. Harry Wordsworth was one of those, whose universally acknowledged position in society it is extremely difficult to account for. He was the younger brother of a not very good family, with a smart figure, and pleasing, though not handsome features; in say ing which, we have pretty nearly summed up all the advantages which he really possessed, though not one hundredth part of what he had successfully assumed the credit of. He was as poor as younger brothers usually are, yet denied himself no luxury;-professed never to do any thing he did not like, yet was reckoned the best-natured creature in the world;―superficial, almost illiterate, yet could talk ad captandum on any subject-in short, without much either of fancy or feeling, a rattling merry manner with men made him pass for an uncommonly pleasant fellow, and a soft insinuating address with women gave him the reputation of being only trop aimable. How he came to be thus far from the scene of all his glories, and at this unfashionable time of year, we must allow him to explain for himself, as far as may be convenient to him. Ormsby having known him all his life, and been always accustomed, as a matter of course, to reciprocate the prescribed degree of warmth of manner upon meeting him, which was perfectly compatible with utter indifference as to ever seeing each other again, accosted him with, "Harry, how are you? what brings you here ?" 66 At which Harry started up with Ormsby, my dear fellow, how goes it?" and then turning towards Lady Matilda, with whom he had a very slight acquaintance, changed his manner to his most interesting drawl, and accompanied, delighted to see you,” with a protracted squeeze of the hand. -Then turning again towards Ormsby, and holding up the newspaper he had been reading, "Well, Ormsby," said he, 66 |