THE
ATLANTIC MONTHLY.
A Magazine of Literature, Science, Art, and Politics.
VOL. XVI.—DECEMBER, 1865.—NO. XCVIII.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by Ticknor andFields, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District ofMassachusetts.
Transcriber's Note: Minor typos have been corrected and footnotes movedto the end of the article. Table of contents has been created for the HTML version.
Contents
GRIFFITH GAUNT; OR, JEALOUSY.
THE PARTING OF HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE.
WILLIAM BLACKWOOD.
THE CHIMNEY-CORNER.
THE FORGE.
KING JAMES THE FIRST.
THE SLEEPER.
DOCTOR JOHNS.
BOOKS FOR OUR CHILDREN.
DIOS TE DE.
MODE OF CATCHING JELLY-FISHES.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER.
BEYOND.
CLEMENCY AND COMMON SENSE.
REVIEWS AND LITERARY NOTICES.
GRIFFITH GAUNT; OR, JEALOUSY.
CHAPTER I
"Then I say, once for all, that priest shall never darken my doorsagain."
"Then I say they are my doors, and not yours, and that holy man shallbrighten them whenever he will."
The gentleman and lady, who faced each other pale and furious, andinterchanged this bitter defiance, were man and wife, and had loved eachother well.
Miss Catharine Peyton was a young lady of ancient family in Cumberland,and the most striking, but least popular, beauty in the county. She wasvery tall and straight, and carried herself a little too imperiously;yet she would sometimes relax and all but dissolve that haughty figure,and hang sweetly drooping over her favorites; then the contrast wasdelicious, and the woman fascinating.
Her hair was golden and glossy, her eyes a lovely gray; and she had away of turning them on slowly and full, so that their victim could notfail to observe two things: first, that they were grand and beautifulorbs; secondly, that they were thoughtfully overlooking him, instead oflooking at him.
So contemplated by glorious eyes, a man feels small and bitter.
Catharine was apt to receive the blunt compliments of the Cumberlandsquires with this sweet, celestial, superior gaze, and for this andother imperial charms was more admired than liked.
The family estate was entailed on her brother; her father spent everyfarthing he could; so she had no money, and no expectations, except froma distant cousin,—Mr. Charlton, of Hernshaw Castle and Bolton Hall.
Even these soon dwindled. Mr. Charlton took a fancy to his late wife'srelation, Griffith Gaunt, and had him into his house, and treated him ashis heir. This disheartened two admirers who had hitherto sustainedCatharine Peyton's gaze