About the Book
This is an annotated version of the book1.contains an updated biography of the author at the end of the book for a better understanding of the text.2.This book has been checked and corrected for spelling errorsI shall not say why and how I became, at the age of fifteen, themistress of the Earl of Craven. Whether it was love, or the severity ofmy father, the depravity of my own heart, or the winning arts of thenoble lord, which induced me to leave my paternal roof and place myselfunder his protection, does not now much signify; or, if it does, I amnot in the humour to gratify curiosity in this matter.I resided on the Marine Parade at Brighton, and I remember that LordCraven used to draw cocoa trees, and his fellows as he called them, on the best vellum paper for my amusement. "Here stood the enemy," hewould say, "and here, my love, are my fellows. There the cocoa trees,&c." It was, in fact, a dead bore. All these cocoa trees and fellows, at past eleven o'clock at night, could have no peculiar interest for achild like myself, so lately in the habit of retiring early to rest.One night, I recollect, I fell asleep; and, as I often dream, I saidyawning, and half awake, "O Lord! O Lord! Craven has got me into theWest Indies again." In short I soon found that I had made but a badspeculation, by going from my father to Lord Craven. I was even moreafraid of the latter than I had been of the former. Not that there wasany particular harm in the man beyond his cocoa trees; but we neversuited nor understood each other.I was not depraved enough to determine immediately on a new choice, andyet I often thought about it. How indeed could I do otherwise, whenthe Honourable Frederick Lamb was my constant visitor, and talked to meof nothing else? However, in justice to myself, I must declare that theidea of the possibility of deceiving Lord Craven while I was under hisroof, never once entered into my head. Frederick was then very handsome, and certainly tried with all his soul and with all his strength, toconvince me that constancy to Lord Craven was the greatest nonsense inthe world. I firmly believe that Frederick Lamb sincerely loved me, anddeeply regretted that he had no fortune to invite me to share with him.Lord Melbourne, his father, was a good man. Not one of your stiff-laced, moralising fathers, who preach chastity and forbearance to theirchildren. Quite the contrary, he congratulated his son on the luckycircumstance of his friend Craven having such a fine girl with him."No such thing," answered Frederick Lamb, "I am unsuccessful there.Harriette will have nothing at all to do with me.""Nonsense!" rejoined Melbourne, in great surprise, "I never heardanything half so ridiculous in all my life. The girl must be mad! Shelooks mad. I thought so the other day, when I met her galloping about, with her feathers blowing, and her thick dark hair about her ears."I'll speak to Harriette for you," added his lordship, after a longpause, and then continued repeating to himself, in an undertone, "nothave my son indeed! Six feet high! A fine, straight, handsome, nobleyoung fellow! I wonder what she would have!"In truth, I scarcely knew myself; but something I determined on: so miserably tired was I of Craven, and his cocoa trees, and hissailing-boats, and his ugly, cotton nightca
