and threatened to send her home. Not satisfied with this, he had seized up the cat, which was asleep on the hearthrug, by the tail, and, twisting the animal several times round his head, had finally flung the infuriated creature at his poor wife. Lamb suggested that perhaps it might tell upon the jury, if they were to produce a cat in court as the unwilling actor in this disgraceful scene, and he offered the services of the Office Cat—a remarkably fine tabby—for the purpose. “Mrs. Barber’s maid, a remarkably intelligent woman, who had lived with her through all the struggles of her married life, would readily identify the cat—she was a most intelligent woman.” Dr. Dodge, however, over-ruled the suggestion, on the ground that Sir Cresswell would never for one moment admit the cat as a competent witness, as it would be impossible to show that puss was aware of the sanctity of an oath. This was not the first time I had remarked that the remembrance of his dramatic career still exercised too much influence over Lamb’s mind. He was always for striking off an effect, and producing a series of tableaux to the jury. The principle no doubt is a sound one, but it may be worked to death. So, despite of some faint mutterings on Lamb’s part with reference to the Dog of Montargis, his valuable suggestion was put aside.
It next appeared, that very soon after her intermarriage with Mr. Barber, his amiable wife had been taken by him down to Poldadek to stay with his two elderly maiden sisters. It is only surprising that she could have retained her senses after the sufferings inflicted on her by these ladies. They may possibly have done it with the best intentions, but was it just—was it right to send her to bed at seven o’clock in the evening—to prevent her from wearing any of the clothes she had brought with her from London? It was so natural and excusable at her age to take pleasure in attire which, however elegantly conceived, was befitting her condition. Besides, why did they put her hair into curl-papers—though the pain of the disgusting operation caused her to shed tears, and she implored of them to desist—and the odious screws of paper kept her awake all night by scrubbing between her tender cheek and the pillow? Besides, they were always sneering at the Montresors, who were of an excellent family, and connected, on the father’s side, with an Irish Viscount. Miss Harriet and Miss Jane Barber, however, held such trifles in small account, and were always sneering at dignities which Mrs. B. believed they envied in their very hearts.
Mr. Lamb ventured to call her attention to what he was pleased to term a very troublesome feature in the case—namely, a series of letters, or notes containing declarations of the most passionate affection, which had been found by Mr. Barber in his wife’s writing-desk, and appropriated by that unmanly ruffian.
Mrs. Barber explained.
When she and her husband were staying at Brussels, Augustus had gone into society which had caused her great uneasiness. In point of fact she was convinced that he had fallen into the hands of a pack of gamblers. For a long time the poor wife had resisted his earnest solicitations to receive these men; but, at length, overcome by his importuity, she had consented. The most noticeable man amongst them was a Comte Alexis de Cubillard. “His appearance was well enough,” Mrs. B. observed, “in fact, rather good-looking than otherwise, but those foreign good looks she detested.” He was a notorious gambler, and the most noted pistol-shot in Brussels. He soon began to persecute her with his odious attentions; but as she would not listen to him—he wrote to her;—wrote repeatedly. If she showed these letters to her husband—there might be a duel, and Augustus might be consigned to a bloody grave on her account. If she destroyed them, and it ever came to light afterwards that such letters had been in her possession, it might be supposed that they contained matter which they had not contained. What was she to do? If Mr. Barber could have shown letters of hers to Count Alexis, it would have been another thing.
“Excellently reasoned, Mrs. Barber,” said Dr. Dodge, full of admiration; “one would really suppose you had been brought up in the Commons. The Count’s letters are only evidence against himself. You are quite sure there are no letters of yours which the other side might spring upon us?”
“Quite!” said the lady, with a smile of seraphic innocence.
“Very well. I don’t think there’s anything more to say,” said Lamb. “With your permission, Mrs. Barber, Dr. Dodge and I will go carefully through the evidence in a professional way when I have had the honour of conducting you to your carriage. Mind, to-morrow, at half-past ten punctually—punctually, Mrs. Barber!”
“Will Mr. Barber be there?” said the lady.
“Oh, certainly!” replied Lamb.
“I will take care and be punctual!” said the injured angel, as she glided out of the room, with a sweeping smile at Dr. Dodge and myself, and left us standing there full of sorrow and sympathy for her and abhorrence for each other. Gamma.
SKETCHES IN STYRIA. By C. E.
Before describing the Château of Ehrenhausen, we shall give an outline of the beautiful scenery through which we passed, en route from Vienna, The nucleus of it is the range of mountains called, “the Semmering,” a branch of the Norische Alpen, running out from the main chain, at nearly right angles to the east, while the former stretches from the great Glockner, to the cast of the Ratische Alpen, and runs nearly north-east to Vienna. The Semmering divides the plain which extends from Vienna towards the south, from that of Gratz, in the centre of which is situated the town of the same name, the capital of Upper Styria. The railway which traverses this chain of mountains, is of a magnitude worthy of old Rome in its best days; the hills which it ascends are more than 5000 feet above the level of the sea; and the greatest elevation of the line, which is the centre of the principal tunnel of the Semmering, is not less than 2788.
From Glognitz, a “bourgade” at the foot of the