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LONDON:
F. SHOBERL, JUN., 51, RUPERT STREET, HAYMARKET,
PRINTER TO H. R. H. PRINCE ALBERT.
THE
MANŒUVRING MOTHER.
CHAPTER XXII.
Four years passed rapidly and tranquilly atFairlee. The waters of Lochleven flowed at thefoot of its undulating grounds, and the mountainsof Glencoe terminated the grandly-beautifuland distant prospect which Christobellegazed upon with untired delight, from thedifferent points where she loved to sit in meditation,or employed herself in painting itsglowing and ever-changing tints. Often didthe forms of Anna Maria and Isabel appear beforeher, as she lingered upon the mountain-topswhich overhung the lake, and watched the goldensun sink below the horizon.
Often did the woods and smiling lands of Wetheral[2]appear to her mental view; and thoughits scenery, so flatly tame, sank into insignificancebefore the cloud-capped Cona, and the hillsof many names which surrounded the rich andbeautiful Lochleven—still, there was the remembranceof her first attachments; there were theforms she loved, and the hearts which loved her,fondly. There was the scene of her infancy, andthere she had parted from her kind companionand friend, Sir John Spottiswoode.
Anna Maria's heart and eyes were given exclusivelyto her excellent husband, and Isabelwas devoted to her child; but Sir John Spottiswoodehad been for weeks her instructor, heronly attendant, and the depository of herthoughts. She felt the loss of his society formonths; and when she gazed upon the calmlake, or mused upon the rocky heights, each andall threw back her thoughts to Sir John Spottiswoode.Oh! what would he, the travelled one,the lover of grand scenery—what would he sayto the bold and graceful scenery? What wouldhe say to the combination of wood, and rock, andpleasant glens; the mountains, the water, and allthe glorious views which decorated Lochleven?Surely he would love its repose, its agitations, itssublimity; surely he would love its groves, its[3]islands, and its storms. He would roam withher through the lovely glens; they would togethervisit the falls of Kinlochmore: theywould meditate together on Eilan na Corak, andclimb the highest points to watch the settingsun, and think upon absent ones. Why had shenot a brother to accompany her in her pleasantrambles, and why was he not Sir John Spottiswoode?
Lady Wetheral's health did not recover theshock of Lady Kerrison's death. She sank graduallyinto an invalid: and, though she rarelyvisited the beauteous scenes around her, andnever admired their grandeur, yet her thoughtsrested no longer upon England. She was contentto remain at Fair