Her devotion to Mr. Carvel was such, however, that she seemed to care but little for the attention she received, and she continued to grace his board and entertain his company.  He fairly worshipped her.  It was his delight to surprise her with presents from England, with rich silks and brocades for gowns, for he loved to see her bravely dressed.  The spinet he gave her, inlaid with ivory, we have still.  And he caused a chariot to be made for her in London, and she had her own horses and her groom in the Carvel livery.

People said it was but natural that she should fall in love with Captain Jack, my father.  He was the soldier of the family, tall and straight and dashing.  He differed from his younger brother Grafton as day from night.  Captain Jack was open and generous, though a little given to rash enterprise and madcap adventure.  He loved my mother from a child.  His friend Captain Clapsaddle loved her too, and likewise Grafton, but it soon became evident that she would marry Captain Jack or nobody.  He was my grandfather’s favourite, and though Mr. Carvel had wished him more serious, his joy when Bess blushingly told him the news was a pleasure to see.  And Grafton turned to revenge; he went to Mr. Carvel with the paper he had taken from the strong-box and claimed that my mother was of spurious birth and not fit to marry a Carvel.  He afterwards spread the story secretly among the friends of the family.  By good fortune little harm arose therefrom, since all who knew my mother loved her, and were willing to give her credit for the doubt; many, indeed, thought the story sprang from Grafton’s jealousy and hatred.  Then it was that Mr. Carvel gave to Grafton the estate in Kent County and bade him shift for himself, saying that he washed his hands of a son who had acted such a part.

But Captain Clapsaddle came to the wedding in the long drawing-room at the Hall and stood by Captain Jack when he was married, and kissed the bride heartily.  And my mother cried about this afterwards, and said that it grieved her sorely that she should have given pain to such a noble man.

After the blow which left her a widow, she continued to keep Mr. Carvel’s home.  I recall her well, chiefly as a sad and beautiful woman, stately save when she kissed me with passion and said that I bore my father’s look.  She drooped like the flower she was, and one spring day my grandfather led me to receive her blessing and to be folded for the last time in those dear arms.  With a smile on her lips she rose to heaven to meet my father.  And she lies buried with the rest of the Carvels at the Hall, next to the brave captain, her husband.