The _Gagliarda_ too, which we play now so
constantly, possesses a singular power of assisting the imagination to
picture or reproduce such scenes as those which it no doubt formerly
enlivened. I know not why, but it is constantly identified in my mind
with some revel which I have perhaps seen in a picture, where several
couples are dancing a licentious measure in a long room lit by a number
of silver sconces of the debased model common at the end of the
seventeenth century. It is probably a reminiscence of my late excursion
that gives to these dancers in my fancy the olive skin, dark hair, and
bright eyes of the Italian type; and they wear dresses of exceedingly
rich fabric and elaborate design. Imagination is whimsical enough to
paint for me the character of the room itself, as having an arcade of
arches running down one side alone, of the fantastic and paganised
Gothic of the Renaissance. At the end is a gallery or balcony for the
musicians, which on its coved front has a florid coat of arms of foreign
heraldry. The shield bears, on a field _or_, a cherub's head blowing on
three lilies--a blazon I have no doubt seen somewhere in my travels,
though I cannot recollect where. This scene, I say, is so nearly
connected in my brain with the _Gagliarda_, that scarcely are its first
notes sounded ere it presents itself to my eyes with a vividness which
increases every day. The couples advance, set, and recede, using free
and licentious gestures which my imagination should be ashamed to
recall. Amongst so many foreigners, fancy pictures, I know not in the
least why, the presence of a young man of an English type of face, whose
features, however, always elude my mind's attempt to fix them. I think
that the opening subject of this _Gagliarda_ is a superior composition
to the rest of it, for it is only during the first sixteen bars that the
vision of bygone revelry presents itself to me. With the last note of
the sixteenth bar a veil is drawn suddenly across the scene, and with a
sense almost of some catastrophe it vanishes. This I attribute to the
fact that the second subject must be inferior in conception to the
first, and by some sense of incongruity destroys the fabric which the
fascination of the preceding one built up." My brother, though he had listened with interest to what Mr. Gaskell had
said, did not reply, and the subject was allowed to drop. CHAPTER III


It was in the same summer of 1842, and near the middle of June, that my
brother John wrote inviting me to come to Oxford for the Commemoration
festivities. I had been spending some weeks with Mrs. Temple, a distant
cousin of ours, at their house of Royston in Derbyshire, and John was
desirous that Mrs. Temple should come up to Oxford and chaperone
her daughter Constance and myself at the balls and various other
entertainments which take place at the close of the summer term. Owing
to Royston being some two hundred miles from Worth Maltravers, our
families had hitherto seen little of one another, but during my present
visit I had learned to love Mrs. Temple, a lady of singular sweetness of
disposition, and had contracted a devoted attachment to her daughter
Constance. Constance Temple was then eighteen years of age, and to great
beauty united such mental graces and excellent traits of character as
must ever appear to reasoning persons more enduringly valuable than even
the highest personal attractions. She was well read and witty, and had
been trained in those principles of true religion which she afterwards
followed with devoted consistency in the self-sacrifice and resigned
piety of her too short life. In person, I may remind you, my dear
Edward, since death removed her ere you were of years to appreciate
either her appearance or her qualities, she was tall, with a somewhat
long and oval face, with brown hair and eyes. Mrs. Temple readily accepted Sir John Maltravers' invitation. She had
never seen Oxford herself, and was pleased to afford us the pleasure of
so delightful an excursion. John had secured convenient rooms for us
above the shop of a well-known printseller in High Street, and we
arrived in Oxford on Friday evening, June 18, 1842. I shall not dilate
to you on the various Commemoration festivities, which have probably
altered little since those days, and with which you are familiar. Suffice it to say that my brother had secured us admission to every
entertainment, and that we enjoyed our visit as only youth with its keen
sensibilities and uncloyed pleasures can. I could not help observing
that John was very much struck by the attractions of Miss Constance
Temple, and that she for her part, while exhibiting no unbecoming
forwardness, certainly betrayed no aversion to him. I was greatly
pleased both with my own powers of observation which had enabled me to
discover so important a fact, and also with the circumstance itself. To a romantic girl of nineteen it appeared high time that a brother of
twenty-two should be at least preparing some matrimonial project; and my
friend was so good and beautiful that it seemed impossible that I should
ever obtain a more lovable sister or my brother a better wife. Mrs.
Temple could not refuse her sanction to such a scheme; for while their
mental qualities seemed eminently compatible, John was in his own right
master of Worth Maltravers, and her daughter sole heiress of the Royston
estates. The Commemoration festivities terminated on Wednesday night with a grand
ball at the Music-Room in Holywell Street. This was given by a Lodge of
University Freemasons, and John was there with Mr. Gaskell--whose
acquaintance we had made with much gratification--both wearing blue silk
scarves and small white aprons. They introduced us to many other of
their friends similarly adorned, and these important and mysterious
insignia sat not amiss with their youthful figures and boyish faces. After a long and pleasurable programme, it was decided that we should
prolong our visit till the next evening, leaving Oxford at half-past
ten o'clock at night and driving to Didcot, there to join the mail for
the west. We rose late the next morning and spent the day rambling among
the old colleges and gardens of the most beautiful of English cities. At seven o'clock we dined together for the last time at our lodgings
in High Street, and my brother proposed that before parting we should
enjoy the fine evening in the gardens of St. John's College. This was
at once agreed to, and we proceeded thither, John walking on in front
with Constance and Mrs. Temple, and I following with Mr. Gaskell. My
companion explained that these gardens were esteemed the most beautiful
in the University, but that under ordinary circumstances it was not
permitted to strangers to walk there of an evening. Here he quoted some
Latin about "aurum per medios ire satellites," which I smilingly made as
if I understood, and did indeed gather from it that John had bribed the
porter to admit us.