diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:33:12 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:33:12 -0700 |
| commit | 8813de6b981f3e9bbeaae9909e6920c184b924d0 (patch) | |
| tree | adaaabf8f158b309feaa0a64da952fdacbfc494f /9414-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '9414-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 9414-h/9414-h.htm | 20015 |
1 files changed, 20015 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/9414-h/9414-h.htm b/9414-h/9414-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4737134 --- /dev/null +++ b/9414-h/9414-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,20015 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Tales and Novels, Vol. V, by Maria Edgeworth</title> + +<style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + .side { float: right; font-size: 75%; width: 25%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; margin-left: 0.8em; text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold;'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Tales And Novels, Volume 5 (of 10), by Maria Edgeworth</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Tales And Novels, Volume 5 (of 10)<br /> +Tales of a Fashionable Life: Manoeuvring; Almeria; and Vivian.</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Maria Edgeworth</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Release Date: September 30, 2003 [eBook #9414]<br /> +[Most recently updated: March 5, 2021]</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Jonathan Ingram, Tapio Riikonen and PG Distributed Proofreaders and David Widger</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES AND NOVELS, VOLUME 5 (OF 10) ***</div> + + <h1> + TALES AND NOVELS + </h1> + <h4> + VOLUME V (of X) + </h4> + + <h3>MANOEUVRING; ALMERIA; AND VIVIAN.</h3> + + <h4> + (TALES OF FASHIONABLE LIFE.)</h4> + + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Maria Edgeworth + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h4> + In Ten Volumes. With Engravings On Steel.<br /> (Engravings not available + in this edition) + </h4> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + 1857. + </h3> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>CONTENTS</b> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>MANOEUVRING.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> <b>ALMERIA.</b> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> <i><b>VIVIAN</b></i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER IV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER V. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER VI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER VII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER VIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER IX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER X. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XIV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XV. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_FOOT"> <b>FOOTNOTES</b> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MANOEUVRING. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. + </h2> + <p> + “And gave her words, where oily Flatt’ry lays The pleasing colours of the + art of praise.”—PARNELL. + </p> + <p> + NOTE FROM MRS. BEAUMONT TO MISS WALSINGHAM. + </p> + <p> + “I am more grieved than I can express, my dearest Miss Walsingham, by a + cruel <i>contre-temps</i>, which must prevent my indulging myself in the + long-promised and long-expected pleasure of being at your <i>fête de + famille</i> on Tuesday, to celebrate your dear father’s birthday. I trust, + however, to your conciliating goodness, my kind young friend, to represent + my distress properly to Mr. Walsingham. Make him sensible, I conjure you, + that my <i>heart</i> is with you all, and assure him that this is no + common apology. Indeed, I never employ such artifices with my friends: to + them, and to you in particular, my dear, I always speak with perfect + frankness and candour. Amelia, with whom, <i>entre nous</i>, you are more + a favourite than ever, is so much vexed and mortified by this + disappointment, that I see I shall not be restored to favour till I can + fix a day for going to you: yet when that may be, circumstances, which I + should not feel myself quite justified in mentioning, will not permit me + to decide. + </p> + <p> + “Kindest regards and affectionate remembrances to all your dear circle.—Any + news of the young captain? Any hopes of his return from sea? + </p> + <p> + “Ever with perfect truth, my dearest Miss Walsingham’s sincere friend, + </p> + <p> + “EUGENIA BEAUMONT. + </p> + <p> + “P.S.—Private—read to yourself. + </p> + <p> + “To be candid with you, my dear young friend, my secret reason for denying + myself the pleasure of Tuesday’s fête is, that I have just heard that + there is a shocking chicken-pox in the village near you; and I confess it + is one of my weaknesses to dread even the bare rumour of such a thing, on + account of my Amelia: but I should not wish to have this mentioned in your + house, because you must be sensible your father would think it an idle + womanish fear; and you know how anxious I am for his esteem. + </p> + <p> + “Burn this, I beseech you—— + </p> + <p> + “Upon second thoughts, I believe it will be best to tell the truth, and + the whole truth, to your father, if you should see that nothing else will + do——In short, I write in haste, and must trust now, as ever, + entirely to your discretion.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear,” said Mr. Walsingham to his daughter, as the young lady + sat at the breakfast table looking over this note, “how long do you mean + to sit the picture of The Delicate Embarrassment? To relieve you as far as + in me lies, let me assure you that I shall not ask to see this note of + Mrs. Beaumont’s, which as usual seems to contain some mighty mystery.” + </p> + <p> + “No great mystery; only——” + </p> + <p> + “Only—some minikin mystery?” said Mr. Walsingham. “Yes, ‘<i>Elle est + politique pour des choux et des raves</i>.’—This charming widow + Beaumont is <i>manoeuvrer</i>.<a href="#linknote-1" name="linknoteref-1" + id="linknoteref-1"><small>1</small></a> We can’t well make an English word + of it. The species, thank Heaven! is not so numerous yet in England as to + require a generic name. The description, however, has been touched by one + of our poets: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Julia’s a manager: she’s born for rule, + And knows her wiser husband is a fool. + For her own breakfast she’ll project a scheme, + Nor take her tea without a stratagem.’ +</pre> + <p> + Even from the time when Mrs. Beaumont was a girl of sixteen I remember her + manoeuvring to gain a husband, and then manoeuvring to manage him, which + she did with triumphant address.” + </p> + <p> + “What sort of a man was Colonel Beaumont?” + </p> + <p> + “An excellent man; an open-hearted soldier, of the strictest honour and + integrity.” + </p> + <p> + “Then is it not much in Mrs. Beaumont’s favour, that she enjoyed the + confidence of such a man, and that he left her guardian to his son and + daughter?” + </p> + <p> + “If he had lived with her long enough to become acquainted with her real + character, what you say, my dear, would be unanswerable. But Colonel + Beaumont died a few years after his marriage, and during those few years + he was chiefly with his regiment.” + </p> + <p> + “You will, however, allow,” said Miss Walsingham, “that since his death + Mrs. Beaumont has justified his confidence.—Has she not been a good + guardian, and an affectionate mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—as a guardian, I think she has allowed her son too much + liberty, and too much money. I have heard that young Beaumont has lost a + considerable sum at Newmarket. I grant you that Mrs. Beaumont is an + affectionate mother, and I am convinced that she is extremely anxious to + advance the worldly interests of her children; still I cannot, my dear, + agree with you, that she is a good mother. In the whole course of the + education of her son and daughter, she has pursued a system of artifice. + Whatever she wanted them to learn, or to do, or to leave undone, some + stratagem, sentimental or scenic, was employed; somebody was to hint to + some other body to act upon Amelia to make her do so and so. Nothing—that + is, nothing like truth, ever came directly from the mother: there were + always whisperings and mysteries, and ‘Don’t say that before Amelia!’ and + ‘I would not have this told to Edward,’ because it might make him like + something that she did not wish that he should like, and that she had <i>her + reasons</i> for not letting him know that she did not wish him to like. + There was always some truth to be concealed for some mighty good purpose; + and things and persons were to be represented in false lights, to produce + on some particular occasion some partial effect. All this succeeded + admirably in detail, and for the management of helpless, ignorant, + credulous childhood. But mark the consequences of this system: children + grow up, and cannot always see, hear, and understand, just as their + mothers please. They will go into the world; they will mix with others; + their eyes will be opened; they will see through the whole system of + artifice by which their childhood was so cleverly managed; and then, + confidence in the parent must be destroyed for ever.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Walsingham acknowledged the truth of what her father said; but she + observed that this was a common error in education, which had the sanction + of high authority in its favour; even the eloquent Rousseau, and the + elegant and ingenious Madame de Genlis. “And it is certain,” continued + Miss Walsingham, “that Mrs. Beaumont has not made her children artful; + both Amelia and Mr. Beaumont are remarkably open, sincere, honourable + characters. Mr. Beaumont, indeed, carries his sincerity almost to a fault: + he is too blunt, perhaps, in his manner;—and Amelia, though she is + of such a timid, gentle temper, and so much afraid of giving pain, has + always courage enough to speak the truth, even in circumstances where it + is most difficult. So at least you must allow, my dear father, that Mrs. + Beaumont has made her children sincere.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry, my dear, to seem uncharitable; but I must observe, that + sometimes the very faults of parents produce a tendency to opposite + virtues in their children: for the children suffer by the consequences of + these faults, and detecting, despise, and resolve to avoid them. As to + Amelia and Mr. Beaumont, their acquaintance with our family has been no + unfavourable circumstance in their education. They saw amongst us the + advantages of sincerity: they became attached to you, and to my excellent + ward Captain Walsingham; he obtained strong power over young Beaumont’s + mind, and used it to the best purposes. Your friendship for Amelia was, I + think, equally advantageous to her: as you are nearly of the same age, you + had opportunities of winning her confidence; and your stronger mind + fortified hers, and inspired her timid character with the courage + necessary to be sincere.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” persisted Miss Walsingham, “though Mrs. Beaumont may have used a + little <i>finesse</i> towards her children in trifles, yet in matters of + consequence, I do think that she has no interest but theirs; and her + affection for them will make her lay aside all art, when their happiness + is at stake.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Walsingham shook his head.—“And do you then really believe, my + dear Marianne, that Mrs. Beaumont would consider any thing, for instance, + in the marriage of her son and daughter, but fortune, and what the world + calls <i>connexion and establishments</i>?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly I cannot think that these are Mrs. Beaumont’s first objects; + because we are people but of small fortune, and yet she prefers us to many + of large estates and higher station.” + </p> + <p> + “You should say, she professes to prefer us,” replied Mr. Walsingham. “And + do you really believe her to be sincere? Now, there is my ward, Captain + Walsingham, for whom she pretends to have such a regard, do you think that + Mrs. Beaumont wishes her daughter should marry him?” + </p> + <p> + “I do, indeed; but Mrs. Beaumont must speak cautiously on that subject; + this is prudence, not dissimulation: for you know that my cousin + Walsingham never declared his attachment to Miss Beaumont; on the + contrary, he always took the most scrupulous pains to conceal it from her, + because he had not fortune enough to marry, and he was too honourable to + attempt, or even to wish, to engage the affections of one to whom he had + no prospect of being united.” + </p> + <p> + “He is a noble fellow!” exclaimed Mr. Walsingham. “There is no sacrifice + of pleasure or interest he would hesitate to make to his duty. For his + friends there is no exertion, no endurance, no forbearance, of which he + has not shown himself capable. For his country——All I ask from + Heaven for him is, opportunity to serve his country. Whether + circumstances, whether success, will ever prove his merits to the world, I + cannot foretell; but I shall always glory in him as my ward, my relation, + my friend.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Beaumont speaks of him just as you do,” said Miss Walsingham. + </p> + <p> + “Speaks, but not thinks,” said Mr. Walsingham. “No, no! Captain Walsingham + is not the man she desires for a son-in-law. She wants to marry Amelia to + Sir John Hunter.” + </p> + <p> + “To Sir John Hunter!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, to Sir John Hunter, a being without literature, without morals, + without even youth, to plead in his favour. He is nearly forty years old, + old enough to be Amelia’s father; yet this is the man whom Mrs. Beaumont + prefers for the husband of her beloved daughter, because he is heir + presumptive to a great estate, and has the chance of a reversionary + earldom.—And this is your modern good mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, no!” cried Miss Walsingham, “you do Mrs. Beaumont injustice; I + assure you she despises Sir John Hunter as much as we do.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet observe the court she has paid to the whole family of the Hunters.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but that has been merely from regard to the late Lady Hunter, who + was her particular friend.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Particular friend!</i> a vamped-up, sentimental conversation reason.” + </p> + <p> + “But I assure you,” persisted Miss Walsingham, “that I know Mrs. + Beaumont’s mind better than you do, father, at least on this subject.” + </p> + <p> + “You! a girl of eighteen, pretend to know a manoeuvrer of her age!” + </p> + <p> + “Only let me tell you my reasons.—It was but last week that Mrs. + Beaumont told me that she did not wish to encourage Sir John Hunter, and + that she should be perfectly happy if she could see Amelia united to such + a man as Captain Walsingham.” + </p> + <p> + “Such a man as Captain Walsingham! nicely guarded expression!” + </p> + <p> + “But you have not heard all yet.—Mrs. Beaumont anxiously inquired + from me whether he had made any prize-money, whether there was any chance + of his returning soon; and she added, with particular emphasis, ‘You don’t + know how much I wish it! You don’t know what a favourite he is of mine!’” + </p> + <p> + “That last, I will lay any wager,” cried Mr. Walsingham, “she said in a + whisper, and in a corner.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but she could not do otherwise, for Amelia was present. Mrs. + Beaumont took me aside.” + </p> + <p> + “Aside; ay, ay, but take care, I advise you, of her <i>asides</i>, and her + whisperings, and her cornerings, and her inuendoes, and semiconfidences, + lest your own happiness, my dear, unsuspecting, enthusiastic daughter, + should be the sacrifice.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Walsingham now stood perfectly silent, in embarrassed and breathless + anxiety. + </p> + <p> + “I see,” continued her father, “that Mrs. Beaumont, for whose mighty + genius one intrigue at a time is not sufficient, wants also to persuade + you, my dear, that she wishes to have you for a daughter-in-law: and yet + all the time she is doing every thing she can to make her son marry that + fool, Miss Hunter, merely because she has two hundred thousand pounds + fortune.” + </p> + <p> + “There I can assure you that you are mistaken,” said Miss Walsingham; + “Mrs. Beaumont dreads that her son should marry Miss Hunter. Mrs. Beaumont + thinks her as silly as you do, and complained to me of her having no taste + for literature, or for any thing, but dress, and trifling conversation.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder, then, that Mrs. Beaumont selects her continually for her + companion.” + </p> + <p> + “She thinks Miss Hunter the most insipid companion in the world; but I + dare not tell you, lest you should laugh at me again, that it was for the + sake of the late Lady Hunter that Mrs. Beaumont was so kind to the + daughter; and now Miss Hunter is so fond of her, and so grateful, that, as + Mrs. Beaumont says, it would be cruelty to shake her off.” + </p> + <p> + “Mighty plausible! But the truth of all this, begging Mrs. Beaumont’s + pardon, I doubt; I will not call it a falsehood, but I may be permitted to + call it a <i>Beaumont</i>. Time will show: and in the mean time, my dear + daughter, be on your guard against Mrs. Beaumont’s art, and against your + own credulity. The momentary pain I give my friends by speaking the plain + truth, I have always found overbalanced by the pleasure and advantage of + mutual confidence. Our domestic happiness has arisen chiefly from our + habits of openness and sincerity. Our whole souls are laid open; there is + no management, no ‘<i>intrigue de cabinet</i>, no ‘<i>esprit de la ligue</i>.’” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Walsingham now left the room; and Miss Walsingham, absorbed in + reflections more interesting to her than even the defence of Mrs. + Beaumont, went out to walk. Her father’s house was situated in a beautiful + part of Devonshire, near the sea-shore, in the neighbourhood of Plymouth; + and as Miss Walsingham was walking on the beach, she saw an old fisherman + mooring his boat to the projecting stump of a tree. His figure was so + picturesque, that she stopped to sketch it; and as she was drawing, a + woman came from the cottage near the shore to ask the fisherman what luck + he had had. “A fine turbot,” says he, “and a john-doree.” + </p> + <p> + “Then away with them this minute to Beaumont Park,” said the woman; “for + here’s Madam Beaumont’s man, Martin, called <i>in a flustrum</i> while you + was away, to say madam must have the nicest of our fish, whatsomever it + might be, and a john-doree, if it could be had for love or money, for + Tuesday.”—Here the woman, perceiving Miss Walsingham, dropped a + curtsy. “Your humble servant, Miss Walsingham,” said the woman. + </p> + <p> + “On Tuesday?” said Miss Walsingham: “are you sure that Mrs. Beaumont + bespoke the fish for Tuesday?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, <i>sartin</i> sure, miss; for Martin mentioned, moreover, what he had + heard talk in the servants’ hall, that there is to be a very <i>pettiklar</i> + old gentleman, as rich! as rich! as rich can be! from foreign parts, and a + great friend of the colonel that’s dead; and he—that is, the old <i>pettiklar</i> + gentleman—is to be down all the way from Lon’on to dine at the park + on Tuesday for <i>sartin</i>: so, husband, away with the john-doree and + the turbot, while they be fresh.” + </p> + <p> + “But why,” thought Miss Walsingham, “did not Mrs. Beaumont tell us the + plain truth, if this is the truth?” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. + </h2> + <pre> + <i>“Young Hermes next, a close contriving god, + Her brows encircled with his serpent rod; + Then plots and fair excuses fill her brain, + And views of breaking am’rous vows for gain.”</i> + </pre> + <p> + The information which Mrs. Beaumont’s man, Martin, had learned from the + servants’ hall, and had communicated to the fisherman’s wife, was more + correct, and had been less amplified, embellished, misunderstood, or + misrepresented, than is usually found to be the case with pieces of news + which are so heard and so repeated. It was true that Mrs. Beaumont + expected to see on Tuesday an old gentleman, a Mr. Palmer, who had been a + friend of her husband’s; he had lately returned from Jamaica, where he had + made a large fortune. It is true, also, that this old gentleman was <i>a + little particular</i>, but not precisely in the sense in which the + fisherman’s wife understood the phrase; he was not particularly fond of + john-dorees and turbots, but he was particularly fond of making his + fellow-creatures happy; particularly generous, particularly open and + honest in his nature, abhorring all artifice himself, and unsuspicious of + it in others. He was unacquainted with Mrs. Beaumont’s character, as he + had been for many years in the West Indies, and he knew her only from her + letters, in which she appeared every thing that was candid and amiable. + His great friendship for her deceased husband also inclined him to like + her. Colonel Beaumont had appointed him one of the guardians of his + children, but Mr. Palmer, being absent from England, had declined to act: + he was also trustee to Mrs. Beaumont’s marriage-settlement, and she had + represented that it was necessary he should be present at the settlement + of her family affairs upon her son’s coming of age; an event which was to + take place in a few days. The urgent representations of Mrs. Beaumont, and + the anxious desire she expressed to see Mr. Palmer, had at last prevailed + with the good old gentleman to journey down to Beaumont Park, though he + was a valetudinarian, and though he was obliged, he said, to return to + Jamaica with the West India fleet, which was expected to sail in ten days; + so that he announced positively that he could stay but a week at Beaumont + Park with his good friends and relations. + </p> + <p> + He was related but distantly to the Beaumonts, and he stood in precisely + the same degree of relationship to the Walsinghams. He had no other + relations, and his fortune was completely at his own disposal. On this + fortune our cunning widow had speculated long and deeply, though in fact + there was no occasion for art: it was Mr. Palmer’s intention to leave his + large fortune to the Beaumonts; or to divide it between the Beaumont and + Walsingham families; and had she been sincere in her professed desire of a + complete union by a double marriage between the representatives of the + families, her favourite object would have been, in either case, equally + secure. Here was a plain, easy road to her object; but it was too direct + for Mrs. Beaumont. With all her abilities, she could never comprehend the + axiom that a right line is the shortest possible line between any two + points:—an axiom equally true in morals and in mathematics. No, the + serpentine line was, in her opinion, not only the most beautiful, but the + most expeditious, safe, and convenient. + </p> + <p> + She had formed a triple scheme of such intricacy, that it is necessary + distinctly to state the argument of her plot, lest the action should be + too complicated to be easily developed. + </p> + <p> + She had, in the first place, a design of engrossing the whole of Mr. + Palmer’s fortune for her own family; and for this purpose she determined + to prevent Mr. Palmer from becoming acquainted with his other relations, + the Walsinghams, to whom she had always had a secret dislike, because they + were of remarkably open, sincere characters. As Mr. Palmer proposed to + stay but a week in the country, this scheme of preventing their meeting + seemed feasible. + </p> + <p> + In the second place, Mrs. Beaumont wished to marry her daughter to Sir + John Hunter, because Sir John was heir expectant to a large estate, called + the Wigram estate, and because there was in his family a certain + reversionary title, the earldom of Puckeridge, which would devolve to Sir + John after the death of a near relation. + </p> + <p> + In the third place, Mrs. Beaumont wished to marry her own son to Miss + Hunter, who was Sir John’s sister by a second marriage, and above twenty + years younger than he was: this lady was preferred to Miss Walsingham for + a daughter-in-law, for the reasons which Mr. Walsingham had given; because + she possessed an independent fortune of two hundred thousand pounds, and + because she was so childish and silly that Mrs. Beaumont thought she could + always manage her easily, and by this means retain power over her son. + Miss Hunter was very pretty, and Mrs. Beaumont had observed that her son + had sometimes been struck with her beauty sufficiently to give hopes that, + by proper management, he might be diverted from his serious, sober + preference of Miss Walsingham. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont foresaw many difficulties in the execution of these plans. + She knew that Amelia liked Captain Walsingham, and that Captain Walsingham + was attached to her, though he had never declared his love: and she + dreaded that Captain Walsingham, who was at this time at sea, should + return, just whilst Mr. Palmer was with her; because she was well aware + that the captain was a kind of man Mr. Palmer would infinitely prefer to + Sir John Hunter. Indeed, she had been secretly informed that Mr. Palmer + hated every one who had a title; therefore she could not, whilst he was + with her, openly encourage Sir John Hunter in his addresses to Amelia. To + conciliate these seemingly incompatible schemes, she determined——But + let our heroine speak for herself. + </p> + <p> + “My dearest Miss Hunter,” said she, “now we are by ourselves, let me open + my mind to you; I have been watching for an opportunity these two days, + but so hurried as I have been!—Where’s Amelia?” + </p> + <p> + “Out walking, ma’am. She told me you begged her to walk to get rid of her + head-ache; and that she might look well to-day, as Mr. Palmer is to come. + I would not go with her, because you whispered to me at breakfast that you + had something very particular to say to me.” + </p> + <p> + “But you did not give <i>that</i> as a reason, I hope! Surely you didn’t + tell Amelia that I had something particular to say to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, ma’am; I told her that I had something to do about my dress—and + so I had—my new hat to try on.” + </p> + <p> + “True, my love; quite right; for you know I wouldn’t have her suspect that + we had any thing to say to each other that we didn’t wish her to hear, + especially as it is about herself.” + </p> + <p> + “Herself!—Oh, is it?” said Miss Hunter, in a tone of disappointment. + </p> + <p> + “And about you, too, my darling. Be assured I have no daughter I love + better, or ever shall. With such a son as I have, and such a + daughter-in-law as I hope and trust I shall have ere long, I shall think + myself the most fortunate of mothers.” + </p> + <p> + Silly Miss Hunter’s face brightened up again. “But now, my love,” + continued Mrs. Beaumont, taking her hand, leading her to a window, and + speaking very low, though no one else was in the room, “before we talk any + more of what is nearest my heart, I must get you to write a note for me to + your brother, directly, for there is a circumstance I forgot—thoughtless + creature that I am! but indeed, I never can <i>think</i> when I <i>feel</i> + much. Some people are always so collected and prudent. But I have none of + that!—Heigho! Well, my dear, you must supply my deficiencies. You + will write and tell Sir John, that in my agitation when he made his + proposal for my Amelia, of which I so frankly approved, I omitted to warn + him, that no hint must be given that I do any thing more than permit him + to address my daughter upon an equal footing with any other gentleman who + might address her. Stay, my dear; you don’t understand me, I see. In + short, to be candid with you—old Mr. Palmer is coming to-day, you + know. Now, my dear, you must be aware that it is of the greatest + consequence to the interests of my family, of which I hope you always + consider yourself (for I have always considered you) as forming a part, + and a very distinguished part—I say, my darling, that we must + consider that it is our interest in all things to please and humour this + good old gentleman. He will be with us but for a week, you know. Well, the + point is this. I have been informed from undoubted authority, people who + were about him at the time, and knew, that the reason he quarrelled with + that nephew of his, who died two years ago, was the young man’s having + accepted a baronetage: and at that time old Palmer swore, that <i>no sprig + of quality</i>—those were the very words—should ever inherit a + shilling of his money. Such a ridiculous whim! But these London merchants, + who make great fortunes from nothing, are apt to have their little + eccentricities; and then, they have so much pride in their own way, and so + much self-will and mercantile downrightness in their manners, that there’s + no managing them but by humouring their fancies. I’m convinced, if Mr. + Palmer suspected that I even wished Amelia to marry Sir John, he would + never leave any of us a farthing, and it would all go to the Walsinghams. + So, my dear, do you explain to your brother, that though I have not the + least objection to his coming here whilst Mr. Palmer is with us, he must + not take umbrage at any seeming coldness in my manner. He knows my heart, + I trust; at least, you do, my Albina. And even if I should be obliged to + receive or to go to see the Walsinghams, which, by-the-bye, I have taken + means to prevent; but if it should happen that they were to hear of + Palmer’s being with us, and come, and Sir John should meet them, he must + not be surprised or jealous at my speaking in the highest terms of Captain + Walsingham. This I shall be obliged to do as a blind before Mr. Palmer. I + must make him believe that I prefer a commoner for my son-in-law, or we + are all undone with him. You know it is my son’s interest, and yours, as + well as your brother’s and Amelia’s, that I consider. So explain all this + to him, my dear; you will explain it so much better, and make it so much + more palpable to your brother than I could.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Mrs. Beaumont, how can you think so? You who write so well, and such + long letters about every thing, and so quick! But goodness! I shall never + get it all into a letter I’m afraid, and before Mr. Palmer comes, and then + it will soon be dressing-time! La! I could say it all to John in five + minutes: what a pity he is not here to-day!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my love, then suppose you were to go to him; as you so prudently + remark, things of this sort are always so much easier and better said than + written. And now I look at my watch, I see you cannot have time to write a + long letter, and to dress. So I believe, though I shall grieve to lose + you, I must consent to your going for this one day to your brother’s. My + carriage and Williamson shall attend you,” said Mrs. Beaumont, ringing the + bell to order the carriage; “but remember you promise me now to come back, + positively, to-morrow, or next day at farthest, if I should not be able to + send the carriage again to-morrow. I would not, upon any account, have you + away, if it can possibly be helped, whilst Mr. Palmer is here, considering + you as I do [The carriage to the door directly, and Williamson to attend + Miss Hunter]—considering you as I do, my dearest Albina, quite as my + own daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my dearest Mrs. Beaumont, you are so kind!” said the poor girl, whom + Mrs. Beaumont could always thus easily <i>pay with words</i>. + </p> + <p> + The carriage came to the door with such prompt obedience to Mrs. + Beaumont’s summons, that one of a more reflecting or calculating nature + than Miss Hunter might have suspected that it had been ordered to be in + readiness to carry her away this morning. + </p> + <p> + “Fare ye well, my own Albina! be sure you don’t stay long from us,” said + Mrs. Beaumont, accompanying her to the hall-door. “A thousand kind things + to everybody, and your brother in particular. But, my dear Miss Hunter, + one word more,” said she, following to the carriage door, and whispering: + “there’s another thing that I must trust to your management and + cleverness;—I mentioned that Mr. Palmer was to know nothing of <i>the + approbation</i> of Sir John’s suit.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, yes, ma’am, I understand perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + “But stay, my love; you must understand, too, that it is to be quite a + secret between ourselves, not to be mentioned to my son even; for you know + he is sudden in his temper, and warm and quite in the Walsingham interest, + and there’s no knowing what might be the consequence if it were to be let + out imprudently, and Sir John and Edward both so high-spirited. One can’t + be too cautious, my dear, to prevent mischief between gentlemen. So + caution your brother to leave it to me to break it, and bring things about + with Edward and Amelia,”—[stopping Miss Hunter again as she made a + second effort to get into the carriage,]—“You comprehend, my dear, + that Amelia is not in the secret yet—so not a word from your brother + to her about <i>my approbation!</i>—that would ruin all. I trust to + his honour; and besides—” drawing the young lady back for the third + whisper.—Miss Hunter stood suspended with one foot in air, and the + other on the step; the coachman, impatient to be off, manoeuvred to make + his horses restless, whilst at the same time he cried aloud—“So! so! + Prancer—stand still, Peacock; stand still, sir!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Hunter jumped down on terra firma. “Those horses frighten me so for + you, my dear!” said Mrs. Beaumont. “Martin, stand at their heads. My dear + child, I won’t detain you, for you’ll be late. I had only to say, that—oh! + that I trust implicitly to your brother’s honour; but, besides this, it + will not be amiss for you to hint, as you know you can delicately—<i>delicately</i>, + you understand—that it is for his interest to leave me to manage + every thing. Yet none of this is to be said <i>as if from me</i>—pray + don’t let it come from me. Say it all from yourself. Don’t let my name be + mentioned at all. Don’t commit me, you understand?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly, perfectly, ma’am: one kiss, dear Mrs. Beaumont, and adieu. Is + my dressing-box in? Tell him to drive fast, for I hate going slow. Dearest + Mrs. Beaumont, good bye. I feel as if I were going for an age, though it + is only for one day.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear, affectionate girl! I love <i>heart</i>—Good bye—Drive + fast, as Miss Hunter desires you.” + </p> + <p> + Our fair politician, well satisfied with the understanding of her + confidante, which never comprehended more than met the ear, and secure in + a chargé d’affaires, whose powers it was never necessary to limit, stood + on the steps before the house-door, deep in reverie, for some minutes + after the carriage had driven away, till she was roused by seeing her son + returning from his morning’s ride. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. + </h2> + <pre> + <i>“Will you hear a Spanish lady, + How she woo’d an English man? + Garments gay as rich as may be, + Deck’d with jewels, she had on.”</i> + + THE SPANISH LADY’S LOVE. <i>Percy’s Reliques of Ancient Poetry</i> + </pre> + <p> + Mr. Beaumont had just been at a neighbouring farm-house, where there lived + one of Mr. Walsingham’s tenants; a man of the name of Birch, a respectable + farmer, who was originally from Ireland, and whose son was at sea with + Captain Walsingham. The captain had taken young Birch under his particular + care, at Mr. Walsingham’s request. + </p> + <p> + Birch’s parents had this day received a letter from their son, which in + the joy and pride of their hearts they showed to Mr. Beaumont, who was in + the habit of calling at their house to inquire if they had heard any news + of their son, or of Captain Walsingham. Mr. Beaumont liked to read Birch’s + letters, because they were written with characteristic simplicity and + affection, and somewhat in the Irish idiom, which this young sailor’s + English education had not made him entirely forget. + </p> + <p> + LETTER FROM BIRCH TO HIS PARENTS. + </p> + <p> + “H.M.S. l’Ambuscade. + </p> + <p> + “HONOURED PARENTS, + </p> + <p> + “I write this from sea, lat. N. 44.15—long. W. 9.45—wind + N.N.E.—to let you know you will not see me so soon as I said in my + last, of the 16th. Yesterday, P.M. two o’clock, some despatches were + brought to my good captain, by the Pickle sloop, which will to-morrow, + wind and weather permitting, alter our destination. What the nature of + them is I cannot impart to you, for it has not transpired beyond the + lieutenants; but whatever I do under the orders of my good captain, I am + satisfied and confident all is for the best. For my own share, I long for + an opportunity of fighting the French, and of showing the captain <i>what + is in me</i>, and that the pains he has took to make a gentleman, and an + honour to his majesty’s service, of me, is not thrown away. Had he been my + own father, or brother, he could not be better, or <i>done more</i>. God + willing, I will never disgrace his principles, for it would be my ambition + to be like him in every respect; and he says, if I behave myself as I + ought, I shall soon be a lieutenant; and a lieutenant in his majesty’s + navy is as good a gentleman as any in England, and has a right (tell my + sister Kitty) to hand the first woman in Lon’on out of her carriage, if he + pleases, and if she pleases. + </p> + <p> + “Now we talk of ladies, and as please God we shall soon be in action, and + may not have another opportunity of writing to you this great while, for + there is talk of our sailing southward with the fleet to bring the French + and Spaniards to action, I think it best to send you all the news I have + in this letter. But pray bid Kate, with my love, mind this, that not a + word of the following is to take wind for her life, on account of my not + knowing if it might be agreeable, or how it might affect my good captain, + and others that shall be nameless. You must know then that when we were at + ——, where we were stationed six weeks and two days, waiting + for the winds, and one cause or other, we used to employ ourselves, I and + my captain, taking soundings (which I can’t more particularly explain the + nature of to you, especially in a letter); for he always took me out to + attend him in preference to any other; and after he had completed his + soundings, and had no farther use for me in that job, I asked him leave to + go near the same place in the evening to fish, which my good captain + consented to (as he always does to what (duty done) can gratify me), + provided I was in my ship by ten. Now you must know that there are + convents in this country (which you have often heard of, Kitty, no doubt), + being damnable places, where young <i>Catholic</i> women are shut up + unmarried, often, it is to be reasonably supposed, against their wills. + And there is a convent in one of the suburbs which has a high back wall to + the garden of it that comes down near the strand; and it was under this + wall we two used to sound, and that afterwards I used to be fishing. And + one evening, when I was not thinking of any such thing, there comes over + the wall a huge nosegay of flowers, with a stone in it, that made me jump. + And this for three evenings running the same way, about the same hour; + till at last one evening as I was looking up at the wall, as I had now + learned to do about the time the nosegays were thrown over, I saw coming + down a stone tied to a string, and to the stone a letter, the words of + which I can’t particularly take upon me to recollect, because I gave up + the paper to my captain, who desired it of me, and took no copy; but the + sense was, that in that convent there was shut up a lady, the daughter of + an English gentleman by a Spanish wife, both her parents being dead, and + her Spanish relations and father-confessor (or catholic priest of a man), + not wishing she should get to England, where she might be what she had a + right to be by birth, at least by her father’s side (a <i>protestant</i>), + shut her up since she was a child. And that there was a relative of hers + in England, who with a wicked lawyer or attorney had got possession of her + estate, and made every body believe she was dead. And so, it being seven + years and more since she was heard of, she is what is called dead in law, + which sort of death however won’t signify, if she appears again. Wherefore + the letter goes on to say, she would be particularly glad to make her + escape, and get over to old England. But she confesses that she is neither + young nor handsome, and may-be never may be rich; therefore, that whoever + helps her must do it for the sake of doing good and nothing else; for + though she would pay all expenses handsomely, she could not promise more. + And that she knew the danger of the undertaking to be great; greater for + them that would carry her off even than for herself. That she knows, + however, that British sailors are brave as they are generous (this part of + the letter was very well indited, and went straight to my heart the minute + ever I read it); and she wished it could be in the power of Captain + Walsingham to take her under his immediate protection, and that she had + taken measures so as she could escape over the wall of the garden if he + would have a boat in readiness to carry her to his ship; and at the same + hour next evening the stone should be let down as usual, and he might + fasten his answer to it, which would be drawn up in due course. Concluding + all this with, ‘That she would not go at all unless Captain Walsingham + came for her himself (certifying himself to be himself, I suppose), for + she knew him to be a gentleman by reputation, and she should be safe under + his protection, and so would her secret, she was confident, at all + events.’ This was the entire and sum total of the letter. So when I had + read to the end, and looked for the postscript and all, I found for my + pains that the lady mistook me for my captain, or would not have written + or thrown the nosegays. So I took the letter to my captain; and what he + answered, and how it was settled (by signals, I suppose) between them + after, it was not for me to inquire. Not a word more was said by him to me + or I to him on the topic, till the very night we were to sail for England. + It was then that our captain took me aside, and he says, ‘Birch, will you + assist me? I ask this not as your captain, so you are at liberty to do as + you please. Will you help me to rescue this lady, who seems to be unjustly + detained, and to carry her back safe to her country and her friends?’ I + told him I would do that or any thing else he bid me, confident he would + never ask me to do a wrong thing; and as to the lady, I should be proud to + help to carry her off to old England and her lawful friends, only I + thought (if I might be so bold) it was a pity she was not young and + handsome, for his sake. At that he smiled, and only said, ‘Perhaps it was + best for him as it was.’ Then he settled about the boat, and who were to + go, and when. It was twelve o’clock striking by the great town clock when + we were under the walls of the convent, as appointed. And all was hush and + silent as the grave for our very lives. For it was a matter of life or + death, I promise you, and we all knew as much, and the sailors had a dread + of the Inquisition upon them that was beyond all terrible! So we watched + and waited, and waited and watched so long, that we thought something must + have gone wrong, or that all was found out, and the captain could not + delay the ship’s sailing; and he struck his repeater, and it was within a + quarter of one, and he said, ‘It is too late; we must put back.’ Just + then, I, that was watching with the lantern in my hand, gave notice, and + first there comes down a white bundle, fastened to the stone and cord. + Then the captain and I fixed the ladder of ropes, and down came the lady, + as well as ever she went up, and not a word but away with her: the captain + had her in a trice in our boat, safe and snug, and off we put, rowing for + the bare life, all silent as ever. I think I hear the striking of our oars + and the plashing of the water this minute, which we would have gladly + silenced, but could not any way in nature. But none heard it, or at least + took any notice against us. I can give you no idea of the terror which the + lady manifested when the boat stood out to sea, at the slightest squall of + wind, or the least agitation of the waves; for besides being naturally + cowardly, as all or most women are for the first time at sea, here was a + poor soul who had been watching, and may be fasting, and worn out mind and + body with the terror of perfecting her escape from the convent, where she + had been immured all her life, and as helpless as a child. So it was + wonderful she went through it as well as she did and without screaming, + which should be an example to Kate and others. Glad enough even we men + were when we reached the ship. There was, at that time, a silence on board + you could have heard a pin drop, all being in perfect readiness for + getting under way, the sails ready for dropping, and officers and sailors + waiting in the greatest expectation of our boat’s return. Our boat passed + swiftly alongside, and great beyond belief was the astonishment of all at + seeing a woman veiled, hoisted out, and in, and ushered below, half + fainting. I never felt more comfortable in my life than when we found her + and ourselves safe aboard l’Ambuscade. The anchor was instantly weighed, + all sail made, and the ship stood out to sea. To the lady the captain gave + up his cabin: double sentries were placed, and as the captain ordered, + every precaution that could shield her character in such suspicious + circumstances were enforced with the utmost punctilio. I cannot describe, + nor can you even conceive, Kate, the degree of curiosity shown about her; + all striving to get a sight of her when she first went down, and most + zealous they were to bring lights; but that would not do, for they could + not see her for her veil. Yet through all we could make out that she was a + fine figure of a woman at any rate, and something more than ordinary, from + the air she had with her. The next day when she was sitting on deck the + wind by times would blow aside her veil so as to give us glimpses of her + face; when, to our surprise, and I am sure to the captain’s satisfaction, + we found she was beyond all contradiction young and handsome. And moreover + I have reason to believe she has fine jewels with her, besides a ring from + her own finger, which with a very pretty action she put on his, that next + day on deck, as I noticed, when nobody was minding. So that no doubt she + is as much richer as she is handsomer than she made believe, contrary to + the ways of other women, which is in her favour and my good captain’s; for + from what I can judge, after all he has done for her, she has no dislike + nor objection to him. + </p> + <p> + “I have not time to add any thing more, but my love to Kitty, and Nancy, + and Tom, and Mary, and little Bess; and, honoured parents, wishing you + good health as I am in, thank God, at this present, + </p> + <p> + “I am your dutiful and loving son, + </p> + <p> + “JOHN BIRCH. + </p> + <p> + “P.S. I open my letter to tell you we are going southward immediately, all + in high spirits, as there is hopes of meeting the French and Spaniards. We + have just hoisted the nun-lady on board an English packet. God send her + and this letter safe to England.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beaumont might perhaps have been amused by this romantic story, and by + the style in which it was told, if he had not been alarmed by the hint at + the conclusion of the letter, that the lady was not indifferent to her + deliverer. Now Mr. Beaumont earnestly wished that his friend Captain + Walsingham might become his brother-in-law; and he began to have fears + about this Spanish lady, with her gratitude, her rings, and the advantages + of the great interest her misfortunes and helpless condition would excite, + together with the vast temptations to fall in love that might occur during + the course of a voyage. Had he taken notice of the postscript, his mind + would have been somewhat relieved. On this subject Mr. Beaumont pondered + all the way that he rode home, and on this subject he was still meditating + when he saw his mother standing on the steps, where we left her when Miss + Hunter’s carriage drove away. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. + </h2> + <p> + “I shall in all my best obey you, madam.” HAMLET. + </p> + <p> + “Did you meet Miss Hunter, my dear son?” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma’am, I just passed the carriage in the avenue: she is going home, + is not she?” said he, rather in a tone of satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, poor thing! yes,” said Mrs. Beaumont, in a most pathetic tone: “ah, + poor thing!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, ma’am, what has happened to her? What’s the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Matter? Oh, nothing!—Did I say that any thing was the matter? Don’t + speak so loud,” whispered she: “your groom heard every word we said; stay + till he is out of hearing, and then we can talk.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care if all the world hears what I say,” cried Mr. Beaumont + hastily: but, as if suppressing his rising indignation, he, with a milder + look and tone, added, “I cannot conceive, my dear mother, why you are + always so afraid of being overheard.” + </p> + <p> + “Servants, my dear, make such mischief, you know, by misunderstanding and + misrepresenting every thing they hear; and they repeat things so oddly, + and raise such strange reports!” + </p> + <p> + “True—very true indeed, ma’am,” said Mr. Beaumont. “You are quite + right, and I beg pardon for being so hasty—I wish you could teach me + a little of your patience and prudence.” + </p> + <p> + “Prudence! ah! my dear Edward, ‘tis only time and sad experience of the + world can teach that to people of <i>our</i> open tempers. I was at your + age ten times more imprudent and unsuspicious than you are.” + </p> + <p> + “Were you, ma’am?—But I don’t think I am unsuspicious. I was when I + was a boy—I wish we could continue children always in some things. I + hate suspicion in any body—but more than in any one else, I hate it + in myself. And yet—” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beaumont hesitated, and his mother instantly went on with a fluent + panegyric upon the hereditary unsuspiciousness of his temper. + </p> + <p> + “But, madam, were you not saying something to me about Miss Hunter?” + </p> + <p> + “Was I?—Oh, I was merely going to say, that I was sorry you did not + know she was going this morning, that you might have taken leave of her, + poor thing!” + </p> + <p> + “Take leave of her! ma’am: I bowed to her, and wished her a good morning, + when I met her just now, and she told me she was only going to the hall + for a day. Surely no greater leave-taking was requisite, when I am to see + the lady again to-morrow, I presume.” + </p> + <p> + “That is not quite so certain as she thinks, poor soul! I told her I would + send for her again to-morrow, just to keep up her spirits at leaving me. + Walk this way, Edward, under the shade of the trees, for I am dead with + the heat; and you, too, look so hot! I say I am not so sure that it would + be prudent to have her here so much, especially whilst Mr. Palmer is with + us, you know—” Mrs. Beaumont paused, as if waiting for an assent, or + a dissent, or a leading hint how to proceed: but her son persisting in + perverse silence, she was forced to repeat, “You know, Edward, my dear, + you know?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, indeed, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t know!” + </p> + <p> + “Faith, not I, ma’am. I don’t know, for the soul of me, what Mr. Palmer’s + coming has to do with Miss Hunter’s going. There’s room enough in the + house, I suppose, for each of them, and all of us to play our parts. As to + the rest, the young lady’s coming or going is quite a matter of + indifference to me, except, of course, as far as politeness and + hospitality go. But all that I leave to you, who do the honours for me so + well.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont’s ideas were utterly thrown out of their order by this + speech, no part of which was exactly what she wished or expected: not that + any of the sentiments it contained or suggested were new to her; but she + was not prepared to meet them thus clothed in distinct words, and in such + a compact form. She had drawn up her forces for battle in an order which + this unexpectedly decisive movement of the enemy discomfited; and a less + able tactician might have been, in these circumstances, not only + embarrassed, but utterly defeated: yet, however unprepared for this sudden + shock, with admirable generalship our female Hannibal, falling back in the + centre, admitted him to advance impetuous and triumphant, till she had him + completely surrounded. + </p> + <p> + “My being of age in a few days,” continued Mr. Beaumont, “will not make + any difference, surely; I depend upon it, that you will always invite + whomever you like to this house, of which I hope, my dear mother, you will + always do me the favour to be the mistress—till I marry, at least. + For my wife’s feelings,” added he, smiling, “I can’t engage, before I have + her.” + </p> + <p> + “And before we know who she is to be,” said Mrs. Beaumont, carelessly. + “Time enough, as you say, to think of that. Besides, there are few women + in the world, I know scarcely one, with whom, in the relation of mother + and daughter-in-law, I should wish to live. But wherever I live, my dear + son, as long as I have a house, I hope you will always do me the justice + and the pleasure to consider yourself as its master. Heaven knows I shall + never give any other man a right to dispute with you the sovereignty of my + castle, or my cottage, whichever it may be. As to the rest,” pursued Mrs. + Beaumont, “you cannot marry against my wishes, my dear Edward; for your + wishes on this, as on all other subjects, will ever govern mine.” + </p> + <p> + Her son kissed her hand with warm gratitude. + </p> + <p> + “You will not, I hope, think that I seek to prolong my regency, or to + assume undue power or influence in affairs,” continued Mrs. Beaumont, “if + I hint to you in general terms what I think may contribute to your + happiness. You must afterwards decide for yourself; and are now, as you + have ever been, master, to do as you please.” + </p> + <p> + “Too much—too much. I have had too much liberty, and have too little + acquired the habit of commanding my will and my passions by my reason. Of + this I am sensible. My excellent friend, Captain Walsingham, told me, some + years ago, that this was the fault of my character, and he charged me to + watch over myself; and so I have; but not so strictly, I fear, as if he + had watched along with me.——Well, ma’am, you were going to + give me some advice; I am all attention.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear son, Captain Walsingham showed his judgment more, perhaps, in + pointing out causes than effects. The weakness of a fond mother, I am + sensible, did indulge you in childhood, and, perhaps, more imprudently in + youth, with an unlimited liberty to judge and act for yourself. Your + mother’s system of education came, alas! more from her heart than her + head. Captain Walsingham himself cannot be more sensible of my errors than + I am.” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Walsingham, believe me, mother, never mentioned this in reproach + to you. He is not a man to teach a son to see his mother’s errors—if + she had any. He always spoke of you with the greatest respect. And since I + must, at my own expense, do him justice, it was, I well remember, upon + some occasion where I spoke too hastily, and insisted upon my will in + opposition to yours, madam, that Captain Walsingham took me aside, and + represented to me the fault into which my want of command over myself had + betrayed me. This he did so forcibly, that I have never from that hour to + this (I flatter myself) on any material occasion, forgotten the impression + he made on my mind. But, madam, I interrupt you: you were going to give me + your advice about—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no—no advice—no advice; you are, in my opinion, fully + adequate to the direction of your own conduct. I was merely going to + suggest, that, since you have not been accustomed to control from a + mother, and since you have, thank Heaven! a high spirit, that would sooner + break than bend, it must be essential to your happiness to have a wife of + a compliant, gentle temper; not fond of disputing the right, or attached + to her own opinions; not one who would be tenacious of rule, and + unseasonably inflexible.” + </p> + <p> + “Unseasonably inflexible! Undoubtedly, ma’am. Yet I should despise a + mean-spirited wife.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure you would. But compliance that proceeds from affection, you + know, can never deserve to be called mean-spirited—nor would it so + appear to you. I am persuaded that there is a degree of fondness, of + affection, enthusiastic affection, which disposes the temper always to a + certain softness and yieldingness, which, I conceive, would be peculiarly + attractive to you, and essential to your happiness: in short, I know your + temper could not bear contradiction.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, indeed, ma’am, you are quite mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite mistaken! and at the very moment he reddens with anger, because I + contradict, even in the softest, gentlest manner in my power, his opinion + of himself!” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t understand me, indeed, you don’t understand me,” said Mr. + Beaumont, beating with his whip the leaves of a bush which was near him. + “Either you don’t understand me, or I don’t understand you. I am much more + able to bear contradiction than you think I am, provided it be direct. But + I do not love—what I am doing at this instant,” added he, smiling—“I + don’t love beating about the bush.” + </p> + <p> + “Look there now!—Strange creatures you men are! So like he looks to + his poor father, who used to tell me that he loved to be contradicted, and + yet who would not, I am sure, have lived three days with any woman who had + ventured to contradict him directly. Whatever influence I obtained in his + heart, and whatever happiness we enjoyed in our union, I attribute to my + trusting to my observations on his character rather than to his own + account of himself. Therefore I may be permitted to claim some judgment of + what would suit your hereditary temper.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, ma’am, certainly. But to come to the point at once, may I ask + this plain question—Do you, by these reflections, mean to allude to + any particular persons? Is there any woman in the world you at this + instant would wish me to marry?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—Miss Walsingham.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beaumont started with joyful surprise, when his mother thus + immediately pronounced the very name he wished to hear. + </p> + <p> + “You surprise and delight me, my dear mother!” + </p> + <p> + “Surprise!—How can that be?—Surely you must know my high + opinion of Miss Walsingham. But——” + </p> + <p> + “But—you added <i>but</i>——” + </p> + <p> + “There is no woman who may not be taxed with a <i>but</i>—yet it is + not for her friend to lower her merit. My only objection to her is—I + shall infallibly affront you, if I name it.” + </p> + <p> + “Name it! name it! You will not affront me.” + </p> + <p> + “My only objection to her then is, her superiority. She is so superior, + that, forgive me, I don’t know any man, yourself not excepted, who is at + all her equal.” + </p> + <p> + “I think precisely as you do, and rejoice.” + </p> + <p> + “Rejoice? why there I cannot sympathize with you. I own, as a mother, I + should feel a little—a little mortified to see my son not the + superior; and when the comparison is to be daily and hourly made, and to + last for life, and all the world to see it as well as myself. I own I have + a mother’s vanity. I should wish to see my son always what he has hitherto + been—the superior, and master in his own house.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beaumont made no reply to these insinuations, but walked on in + silence; and his mother, unable to determine precisely whether the + vexation apparent in his countenance proceeded from disapprobation of her + observations, or from their working the effect she desired upon his pride, + warily waited till he should betray some decisive symptom of his feelings. + But she waited in vain—he was resolved not to speak. + </p> + <p> + “There is not a woman upon earth I should wish so much to have as a + daughter-in-law, a companion, and a friend, as Miss Walsingham. You must + be convinced,” resumed Mrs. Beaumont, “so far as I am concerned, it is the + most desirable thing in the world. But I should think it my duty to put my + own feelings and wishes out of the question, and to make myself prefer + whomsoever, all things considered, my judgment tells me would make you the + happiest.” + </p> + <p> + “And whom would your judgment prefer, madam?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—I am not at liberty to tell—unless I could explain all my + reasons. Indeed, I know not what to say.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear madam, explain all your reasons, or we shall never understand one + another, and never come to an end of these half explanations.” + </p> + <p> + Here they were interrupted by seeing Mr. Twigg, a courtly clergyman, + coming towards them. Beaumont was obliged to endure his tiresome flattery + upon the beauties of Beaumont Park, and upon the judicious improvements + that were making, had been made, and would, no doubt, be very soon made. + Mrs. Beaumont, at last, relieved his or her own impatience by + commissioning Mr. Twigg to walk round the improvements by himself. By + himself she insisted it should be, that she might have his unbiassed + judgment upon the two lines which had been marked for the new belt or + screen; and he was also to decide whether they should call it a belt or a + screen.—Honoured with this commission, he struck off into the walk + to which Mrs. Beaumont pointed, and began his solitary progress. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beaumont then urged his mother to go on with her explanation. Mrs. + Beaumont thought that she could not hazard much by flattering the vanity + of a man on that subject on which perhaps it is most easily flattered; + therefore, after sufficient delicacy of circumlocution, she informed her + son that there was a young lady who was actually dying for love of him; + whose extreme fondness would make her live but in him; and who, besides + having a natural ductility of character, and softness of temper, was + perfectly free from any formidable superiority of intellect, and had the + most exalted opinion of his capacity, as well as of his character and + accomplishments; in short, such an enthusiastic adoration, as would induce + that belief in the infallibility of a husband, which must secure to him + the fullest enjoyment of domestic peace, power, and pre-eminence. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beaumont seemed less moved than his mother had calculated that the + vanity of man must be, by such a declaration—discovery it could not + be called. “If I am to take all this seriously, madam,” replied he, + laughing, “and if, <i>au pied de la lettre</i> my vanity is to believe + that this damsel is dying for love; yet, still I have so little chivalry + in my nature, that I cannot understand how it would add to my happiness to + sacrifice myself to save her life. That I am well suited to her, I am as + willing as vanity can make me to believe; but how is it to be proved that + the lady is suited to me?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear, these things do not admit of logical proof.” + </p> + <p> + “Well—moral, sentimental, or any kind of proof you please.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you no pity? and is not pity akin to love?” + </p> + <p> + “Akin! Oh, yes, ma’am, it is akin; but for that very reason it may not be + a friend—relations, you know, in these days, are as often enemies as + friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Vile pun! far-fetched quibble!—provoking boy!—But I see you + are not in a humour to be serious, so I will take another time to talk to + you of this affair.” + </p> + <p> + “Now or never, ma’am, for mercy’s sake!” + </p> + <p> + “Mercy’s sake! you who show none—Ah! this is the way with you men; + all this is play to you, but death to us.” + </p> + <p> + “Death! dear ma’am; ladies, you know as well as I do, don’t die of love in + these days—you would not make a fool of your son.” + </p> + <p> + “I could not; nor could any other woman—that is clear: but amongst + us, I am afraid we have, undesignedly indeed, but irremediably, made a + fool of this poor confiding girl.” + </p> + <p> + “But, ma’am, in whom did she confide? not in me, I’ll swear. I have + nothing to reproach myself with, thank God!—My conscience is clear; + I have been as ungallant as possible. I have been as cruel as my nature + would permit. I am sure no one can charge me with giving false promises—I + scarcely speak—nor false hopes, for I scarcely look at the young + lady.” + </p> + <p> + “So, then, you know who the young lady in question is?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I ought not to pretend to know.” + </p> + <p> + “That would be useless affectation, alas! for I fear many know, and have + seen, and heard, much more than you have—or I either.” + </p> + <p> + Here Mrs. Beaumont observed that her son’s colour changed, and that he + suddenly grew serious: aware that she had now touched upon the right + chord, she struck it again “with a master’s hand and prophet’s fire.” She + declared that all the world took it for granted that Miss Hunter was to be + married to Mr. Beaumont; that it was talked of every where; that she was + asked continually by her correspondents, when the marriage was to take + place?—in confirmation of which assertion, she produced bundles of + letters from her pockets, from Mrs. and Miss, and from Lady This, and Lady + That. + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” continued she, “if it were confined even to the circle of one’s + private friends and acquaintance, I should not so much mind it, for one + might contradict, and have it contradicted, and one might send the poor + thing away to some watering-place, and the report might die away, as + reports do—sometimes. But all that sort of thing it is too late to + think of now—for the thing is public! quite public! got into the + newspapers! Here’s a paragraph I cut out this very morning from my paper, + lest the poor girl should see it. The other day, I believe you saw it + yourself, there was something of the same sort. ‘We hear that, as soon as + he comes of age, Mr. Beaumont, of Beaumont Park, is to lead to the altar + of Hymen, Miss Hunter, sister to Sir John Hunter, of Devonshire.’ Well,—after + you left the room, Albina took up the paper you had been reading; and when + she saw this paragraph, I thought she would have dropped. I did not know + what to do. Whatever I could say, you know, would only make it worse. I + tried to turn it off, and talked of twenty things; but it would not do—no, + no, it is too serious for that: well, though I believe she would rather + have put her hand in the fire, she had the courage to speak to me about it + herself.” + </p> + <p> + “And what did she say, ma’am?” inquired Mr. Beaumont, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Poor simple creature! she had but one idea—that you had seen it! + that she would not for the world you had read it. What would you think of + her—she should never be able to meet you again—What could she + do? It must be contradicted—somebody must contradict it. Then she + worried me to have it contradicted in the papers. I told her I did not + well know how that could be done, and urged that it would be much more + prudent not to fix attention upon the parties by more paragraphs. But she + was <i>not</i> in a state to think of prudence;—<i>no</i>. What + would you think was the only idea in her mind?—If I would not write, + she would write that minute herself, and sign her name. This, and a + thousand wild things, she said, till I was forced to be quite angry, and + to tell her she must be governed by those who had more discretion than + herself. Then she was so subdued, so ashamed—really my heart bled + for her, even whilst I scolded her. But it is quite necessary to be harsh + with her; for she has no more foresight, nor art, nor command of herself + sometimes, than a child of five years old. I assure you, I was rejoiced to + get her away before Mr. Palmer came, for a new eye coming into a family + sees so much one wouldn’t wish to be seen. You know it would be terrible + to have the poor young creature <i>commit</i> and expose herself to a + stranger so early in life. Indeed, as it is, I am persuaded no one will + ever think of marrying her, if you do not.——In worldly + prudence—but of that she has not an atom—in worldly prudence + she might do better, or as well, certainly; for her fortune will be very + considerable. Sir John means to add to it, when he gets the Wigram estate; + and the old uncle, Wigram, can’t live for ever. But poor Albina, I dare + swear, does not know what fortune she is to have, nor what you have. Love! + love! all for love!—and all in vain. She is certainly very much to + be pitied.” + </p> + <p> + Longer might Mrs. Beaumont have continued in monologue, without danger of + interruption from her son, who stood resolved to hear the utmost sum of + all that she should say on the subject. Never interrupting her, he only + filled certain pauses, that seemed expectant of reply, with the phrases—“I + am very sorry, indeed, ma’am”—and, “Really, ma’am, it is out of my + power to help it.” But Mrs. Beaumont observed that the latter phrase had + been omitted as she proceeded—and “<i>I am very sorry indeed, ma’am,</i>” + he repeated less as words of course, and more and more as if they came + from the heart. Having so far, successfully, as she thought, worked upon + her son’s good-nature, and seeing her daughter through the trees coming + towards them, she abruptly exclaimed, “Promise me, at all events, dearest + Edward, I conjure you; promise me that you will not make proposals <i>any + where else</i>, without letting me know of it beforehand,—and give + me time,” joining her hands in a supplicating attitude, “give me but a few + weeks, to prepare my poor little Albina for this sad, sad stroke!” + </p> + <p> + “I promise you, madam, that I will not, directly or indirectly, make an + offer of my hand or heart to any woman, without previously letting you + know my determination. And as for a few weeks, more or less—my + mother, surely, need not supplicate, but simply let me know her wishes—even + without her reasons, they would have been sufficient with me. Do I satisfy + you now, madam?” + </p> + <p> + “More than satisfy—as you ever do, ever will, my dear son.” + </p> + <p> + “But you will require no more on this subject—I must be left master + of myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Indubitably—certainly—master of yourself—most certainly—of + course.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beaumont was going to add something beginning with, “It is better, at + once, to tell you, that I can never—” But Mrs. Beaumont stopped him + with, “Hush! my dear, hush! not a word more, for here is Amelia, and I + cannot talk on this subject before her, you know.——My beloved + Amelia, how languid you look! I fear that, to please me, you have taken + too long a walk; and Mr. Palmer won’t see you in your best looks, after + all.—What note is that you have in your hand?” + </p> + <p> + “A note from Miss Walsingham, mamma.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! the chickenpox! take care! letters, notes, every thing may convey the + infection,” cried Mrs. Beaumont, snatching the paper. “How could dearest + Miss Walsingham be so giddy as to answer my note, after what I said in my + postscript!—How did this note come?” + </p> + <p> + “By the little postboy, mamma; I met him at the porter’s lodge.” + </p> + <p> + “But what is all this strange thing?” said Mrs. Beaumont, after having + read the note twice over.—It contained a certificate from the parish + minister and churchwardens, apothecary, and surgeon, bearing witness, one + and all, that there was no individual, man, woman, or child, in the + parish, or within three miles of Walsingham House, who was even under any + suspicion of having the chickenpox. + </p> + <p> + “My father desires me to send Mrs. Beaumont the enclosed <i>clean bill of + health</i>—by which she will find that we need be no longer subject + to quarantine; and, unless some other reasons prevent our having the + pleasure of seeing her, we may hope soon that she will favour us with her + long promised visit. + </p> + <p> + “Yours, sincerely, + </p> + <p> + “MARIANNE WALSINGHAM.” + </p> + <p> + “I am delighted,” said Mrs. Beaumont, “to find it was a false report, and + that we shall not be kept, the Lord knows how long, away from the dear + Walsinghams.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we can go to them to-morrow, can’t we, mamma? And I will write, and + say so, shall I?” said Amelia. + </p> + <p> + “No need to write, my dear; if we promise for any particular day, and are + not able to go, that seems unkind, and is taken ill, you see. And as Mr. + Palmer is coming, we can’t leave him.” + </p> + <p> + “But he will go with us surely,” said Mr. Beaumont. “The Walsinghams are + as much his relations as we are; and if he comes two hundred miles to see + us, he will, surely, go seven to see them.” + </p> + <p> + “True,” said Mrs. Beaumont; “but it is civil and kind to leave him to fix + his own day, poor old gentleman. After so long a journey, we must allow + him some rest. Consider, he can’t go galloping about as you do, dear + Edward.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Amelia, “as the Walsinghams know he is to be in the country, + they will of course come to see him immediately.” + </p> + <p> + “How do they know he is to be in the country?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought—I took it for granted, you told them so, mamma, when you + wrote about not going to Walsingham House, on Mr. Walsingham’s birthday.” + </p> + <p> + “No, my dear; I was so full of the chickenpox, and terror about you, I + could think of nothing else.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, dear mother—but now that is out of the question, I had + best write a line by the return of the postboy, to say, that Mr. Palmer is + to be here to-day, and that he stays only one week.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly! love—but let me write about it, for I have particular + reasons. And, my dear, now we are by ourselves, let me caution you not to + mention that Mr. Palmer can stay but one week: in the first place it is + uncivil to him, for we are not sure of it, and it is like driving him + away; and in the next place, there are reasons I can’t explain to you, + that know so little of the world, my dear Amelia—but, in general, it + is always foolish to mention things.” + </p> + <p> + “Always foolish to mention things!” cried Mr. Beaumont, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Of this sort, I mean,” said Mrs. Beaumont, a little disconcerted. + </p> + <p> + “Of what sort?” persisted her son. + </p> + <p> + “Hush! my dear; here’s the postboy and the ass.” + </p> + <p> + “Any letters, my good little boy? Any letters for me?” + </p> + <p> + “I has, madam, a many for the house. I does not know for who—the bag + will tell,” said the boy, unstrapping the bag from his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Give it to me, then,” said Mrs. Beaumont: “I am anxious for letters + always.” She was peculiarly anxious now to open the post-bag, to put a + stop to a conversation which did not please her. Whilst seated on a rustic + seat, under a spreading beech, our heroine, with her accustomed looks of + mystery, examined the seals of her numerous and important letters, to + ascertain whether they had been opened at the post-office, or whether + their folds might have been pervious to any prying eye. Her son tore the + covers off the newspapers; and, as he unfolded one, Amelia leaned upon his + shoulder, and whispered softly, “Any news of the fleet, brother?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont, than whom Fine-ear himself had not quicker auditory nerves, + especially for indiscreet whispers, looked up from her letters, and + examined, unperceived, the countenance of Amelia, who was searching with + eagerness the columns of the paper. As Mr. Beaumont turned over the leaf, + Amelia looked up, and, seeing her mother’s eyes fixed upon her, coloured; + and from want of presence of mind to invent any thing better to say, asked + if her mother wished to have the papers? + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Mrs. Beaumont, coldly, “not I, Amelia; I am not such a + politician as you are grown.” + </p> + <p> + Amelia withdrew her attention, or at least her eyes, from the paper, and + had recourse to the beech-tree, the beautiful foliage of which she studied + with profound attention. + </p> + <p> + “God bless me! here’s news! news of the fleet!” cried Beaumont, turning + suddenly to his sister; and then recollecting himself, to his mother. + “Ma’am, they say there has been a great engagement between the French and + Spaniards, and the English—particulars not known yet: but, they say, + ten sail of the French line are taken, and four Spaniards blown up, and + six Spanish men-of-war disabled, and a treasure-ship taken. Walsingham + must have been in the engagement—My horse!—I’ll gallop over + this minute, and know from the Walsinghams if they have seen the papers, + and if there’s any thing more about it in their papers.” + </p> + <p> + “Gallop! my dearest Edward,” said his mother, standing in his path; “but + you don’t consider Mr. Palmer—” + </p> + <p> + “Damn Mr. Palmer! I beg your pardon, mother—I mean no harm to the + old gentleman—friend of my father’s—great respect for him—I’ll + be back by dinner-time, back ready to receive him—he can’t be here + till six—only five by me, now! Ma’am, I shall have more than time to + dress, too, cool as a cucumber, ready to receive the good old fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “In one short hour, my dear!—seven miles to Walsingham House, and + seven back again, and all the time you will waste there, and to dress too—only + consider!” + </p> + <p> + “I do consider, ma’am; and have considered every thing in the world. My + horse will carry me there and back in fifty minutes, easily, and five to + spare, I’ll be bound. I sha’n’t light—so where’s the paper? I’m + off.” + </p> + <p> + “Well—order your horse, and leave me the paper, at least, while he + is getting ready. Ride by this way, and you will find us here—where + is this famous paragraph?” + </p> + <p> + Beaumont drew the paper crumpled from the pocket into which he had thrust + it—ran off for his horse, and quickly returned mounted. “Give me the + paper, good friends!—I’m off.” + </p> + <p> + “Away, then, my dear; since you will heat yourself for nothing. But only + let me point out to you,” said she, holding the paper fast whilst she held + it up to him, “that this whole report rests on no authority whatever; not + a word of it in the gazette; not a line from the admiralty; no official + account; no bulletin; no credit given to the rumour at Lloyd’s; stocks the + same.—And how did the news come? Not even the news-writer pretends + it came through any the least respectable channel. A frigate in latitude + the Lord knows what! saw a fleet in a fog—might be Spanish—might + be French—might be English—spoke another frigate some days + afterwards, who heard firing: well—firing says nothing. But the + frigate turns this firing into an engagement, and a victory; and presently + communicates the news to a collier, and the collier tells another collier, + and so it goes up the Thames, to some wonder-maker, standing agape for a + paragraph, to secure a dinner. To the press the news goes, just as our + paper is coming out; and to be sure we shall have a contradiction and an + apology in our next.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, ma’am; but I will ask Mr. Walsingham what he thinks, and show him + the paper.” + </p> + <p> + “Do, if you like it, my dear; I never control you; but don’t overheat + yourself for nothing. What can Mr. Walsingham, or all the Walsinghams in + the world, tell more than we can? and as to showing him the paper, you + know he takes the same paper. But don’t let me detain you.—Amelia, + who is that coming through the gate? Mr. Palmer’s servant, I protest!” + </p> + <p> + “Well; it can’t be, I see!” said Beaumont, dismounting. + </p> + <p> + “Take away your master’s horse—quick—quick!—Amelia, my + love, to dress! I must have you ready to receive your godfather’s + blessing. Consider, Mr. Palmer was your father’s earliest friend; and + besides, he is a relation, though distant; and it is always a good and + prudent thing to keep up relationships. Many a fine estate has come from + very distant relations most unexpectedly. And even independently of all + relationships, when friendships are properly cultivated, there’s no + knowing to what they may lead;—not that I look to any thing of that + sort here. But before you see Mr. Palmer, just as we are walking home, and + quite to ourselves, let me give you some leading hints about this old + gentleman’s character, which I have gathered, no matter how, for your + advantage, my dear children. He is a humourist, and must not be opposed in + any of his oddities: he is used to be waited upon, and attended to, as all + these men are who have lived in the West Indies. A <i>bon vivant</i>, of + course. Edward, produce your best wines—the pilau and currie, and + all that, leave to me. I had special notice of his love for a john-doree, + and a john-doree I have for him. But now I am going to give you the + master-key to his heart. Like all men who have made great fortunes, he + loves to feel continually the importance his wealth confers; he loves to + feel that wealth does every thing; is superior to every thing—to + birth and titles especially: it is his pride to think himself, though a + commoner, far above any man who condescends to take a title. He hates + persons of quality; therefore, whilst he is here, not a word in favour of + any titled person. Forget the whole house of peers—send them all to + Coventry—all to Coventry, remember.—And, now you have the key + to his heart, go and dress, to be ready for him.” + </p> + <p> + Having thus given her private instructions, and advanced her secret plans, + Mrs. Beaumont repaired to her toilet, well satisfied with her morning’s + work. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. + </h2> + <p> + “Chi mi fa piu carezze che non sole; O m’ha ingannato, o ingannar me + vuole.” + </p> + <p> + “By St. George, there’s nothing like Old England for comfort!” cried Mr. + Palmer, settling himself in his arm-chair in the evening; “nothing after + all in any part of the known world, like Old England for comfort. Why, + madam, there’s not another people in the universe that have in any of + their languages a name even for comfort. The French have been forced to + borrow it; but now they have got it, they don’t know how to use it, nor + even how to pronounce it, poor devils! Well, there’s nothing like Old + England for comfort.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! nothing like Old England for comfort!” echoed Mrs. Beaumont, in a + sentimental tone, though at that instant her thoughts were far distant + from her words; for this declaration of his love for Old England alarmed + her with the notion that he might change his mind about returning + immediately to Jamaica, and that he might take root again and flourish for + years to come in his native soil—perhaps in her neighbourhood, to + the bane of all her favourite projects. What would become of her scheme of + marrying Amelia to the baronet, and her son to the docile Albina? What + would become of the scheme of preventing him from being acquainted with + the Walsinghams? For a week it might be practicable to keep them asunder + by <i>policising</i>, but this could never be effected if he were to + settle, or even to make any long stay, in the country. The Walsinghams + would be affronted, and then what would become of their interest in the + county? Her son could not be returned without that. And, worse than all + the rest, Mr. Palmer might take a fancy to see these Walsinghams, who were + as nearly related to him as the Beaumonts; and seeing, he might prefer, + and preferring, he might possibly leave half, nay, perhaps the whole, of + his large fortune to them,—and thus all her hopes and projects might + at once be frustrated. Little aware of the long and perplexing trains of + ideas, which his honest ejaculation in favour of his native country had + raised, Mr. Palmer went on with his own comfortable thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “And of all the comforts our native land affords, I know of none so + grateful to the heart,” continued he, “as good friends, which are to be + found nowhere else in such perfection. A man at my time of life misses + many an old friend on his return to his native country; but then he sees + them still in their representatives, and loves them again in their + children. Mr. Beaumont looked at me at that instant, so like his father—he + is the image of what my friend was, when I first knew him.” + </p> + <p> + “I am rejoiced you see the likeness,” said Mrs. Beaumont. “Amelia, my + dear, pour out the coffee.” + </p> + <p> + “And Miss Beaumont, too, has just his expression of countenance, which + surprises me more, in her delicate features. Upon my word, I have reason + to be proud of my god-daughter, as far as appearances go; and with English + women, appearances, fair as they may be, seldom are even so good as the + truth. There’s her father’s smile again for me—young lady, if that + smile deceives, there’s no truth in woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not you find our coffee here very bad, compared with what you have + been used to abroad?” said Mrs. Beaumont. + </p> + <p> + “I do rejoice to find myself here quiet in the country,” continued Mr. + Palmer, without hearing the lady’s question; “nothing after all like a + good old English family, where every thing speaks plenty and hospitality, + without waste or ostentation; and where you are received with a hearty + welcome, without compliments; and let do just as you please, without form, + and without being persecuted by politeness.” + </p> + <p> + This was the image of an English country family impressed early upon the + good old gentleman’s imagination, which had remained there fresh and + unchanged since the days of his youth; and he now took it for granted that + he should see it realized in the family of his late friend. + </p> + <p> + “I was afraid,” resumed Mrs. Beaumont, “that after being so long + accustomed to a West-Indian life, you would find many things unpleasant to + your feelings here. But you are so kind, so accommodating. Is it really + possible that you have not, since your return to England, experienced any + uncomfortable sensations, suffered any serious injury to your health, my + dear sir, from the damps and chills of our climate?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, now I think of it, I have—I have a cough,” said Mr. Palmer, + coughing. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont officiously shut the window. + </p> + <p> + “I do acknowledge that England is not quite so superior to all other + countries in her climate as in every thing else: yet I don’t ‘damn the + climate like a lord.’ At my time of life, a man must expect to be a + valetudinarian, and it would be unjust to blame one’s native climate for + that. But a man of seventy-five must live where he can, not where he will; + and Dr. Y—— tells me that I can live nowhere but in the West + Indies.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir, never mind Dr. Y——,” exclaimed young Beaumont: “live + with us in England. Many Englishmen live to a great age surely, let people + say what they will of the climate.” + </p> + <p> + “But, perhaps, brother,” interposed Amelia, “those who, like Mr. Palmer, + have lived much in a warm climate, might find a return to a cold country + dangerous; and we should consider what is best for him, not merely what is + most agreeable to ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + “True, my dearest Amelia,” said Mrs. Beaumont; “and to be sure, Dr. Y—— + is one of our most skilful physicians. I could not be so rash or so + selfish as to set my private wishes, or my private opinion, in opposition + to Dr. Y——‘s advice; but surely, my dear sir, you won’t let + one physician, however eminent, send you away from us all, and banish you + again from England? We have a very clever physician here, Dr. Wheeler, in + whom I have the greatest confidence. In my own case, I confess, I should + prefer his judgment to any of the London fashionable physicians, who are + so fine and so hurried, that they can’t take time to study one’s + particular constitution, and hear all one has to say to them. Now that is + Wheeler’s great excellence—and I should so like to hear his opinion. + I am sure, if he gives it against me, I will not say a word more: if he + decide for Jamaica, I may be vexed, but I should make it a point of + conscience to submit, and not to urge my good friend to stay in England at + his own peril. Happy they who can live where they please, and whose + fortune puts it in their power to purchase any climate, and to combine the + comforts and luxuries of all countries!” + </p> + <p> + Nothing more was said upon the subject: Mrs. Beaumont turned the + conversation to the different luxuries of the West and East Indies. Mr. + Palmer, fatigued by his journey, retired early to rest, little dreaming + that his kind hostess waked, whilst he slept, for the purpose of preparing + a physician to give a proper opinion upon his case. Mrs. Beaumont left a + note to her favourite Dr. Wheeler, to be sent very early in the morning. + As if by accident, the doctor dropped in at breakfast time, and Mrs. + Beaumont declared that it was the luckiest chance imaginable, that he + should happen to call just when she was wishing to see him. When the + question in debate was stated to him, he, with becoming gravity of + countenance and suavity of manner, entered into a discussion upon the + effect of hot and cold climates upon the solids and fluids, and nervous + system in general; then upon English constitutions in particular; and, + lastly, upon <i>idiosyncrasies</i>. + </p> + <p> + This last word cost Mr. Palmer half his breakfast: on hearing it he turned + down his cup with a profound sigh, and pushed his plate from him; + indications which did not escape the physician’s demure eye. Gaining + confidence from the weakness of the patient, Dr. Wheeler now boldly + pronounced, that, in his opinion, any gentleman who, after having + habituated himself long to a hot climate, as Jamaica, for instance, should + come late in life to reside in a colder climate, as England, for example, + must run very great hazard indeed—nay, he could almost venture to + predict, would fall a victim to the sudden tension of the lax fibres. + </p> + <p> + Though a man of sound good sense in most things, Mr. Palmer’s weakness + was, on medical subjects, as great as his ignorance; his superstitious + faith in physicians was as implicit as either Dr. Wheeler or Mrs. Beaumont + could desire. + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said Mr. Palmer, with a sigh still deeper than the first—for + the first was for himself, and the second for his country—“then + England, Old England! farewell for ever! All my judges pronounce sentence + of transportation upon me!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beaumont and Amelia, in eager and persuasive tones of remonstrance and + expostulation, at once addressed the doctor, to obtain a mitigation or + suspension of his sentence. Dr. Wheeler, albeit unused to the imperative + mood, reiterated his <i>dictum</i>. Though little accustomed to hold his + opinion against the arguments or the wishes of the rich and fair, he, upon + this occasion, stood his ground against Miss and Mr. Beaumont wonderfully + well for nearly five minutes; till, to his utter perplexity and dismay, he + saw Mrs. Beaumont appear amongst his assailants. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I said I would submit, and not say a word, if Dr. Wheeler was + against me,” she began; “but I cannot sit by silent: I must protest + against this cruel, cruel decree, so contrary too to what I hoped and + expected would be Dr. Wheeler’s opinion.” + </p> + <p> + Poor Dr. Wheeler twinkled and seemed as if he would have rubbed his eyes, + not sure whether he was awake or in a dream. In his perplexity, he + apprehended that he had misunderstood Mrs. Beaumont’s note, and he now + prepared to make his way round again through the solids and the fluids, + and the whole nervous system, till, by favour of <i>idiosyncrasy</i>, he + hoped to get out of his difficulty, and to allow Mr. Palmer to remain on + British ground. Mrs. Beaumont’s face, in spite of her powers of + simulation, lengthened and lengthened, and darkened and darkened, as he + proceeded in his recantation; but, when the exception to the general axiom + was fairly made out, and a clear permit to remain in England granted, by + such high medical authority, she forced a smile, and joined loudly in the + general congratulations. Whilst her son was triumphing and shaking hands + with Mr. Palmer, she slipped down stairs after Dr. Wheeler. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, doctor! What have you done! Ruined me! ruined me! Didn’t you read my + note? Didn’t you <i>understand</i> it?—I thought a word to the wise + was enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Why!—then it was as I understood it at first? So I thought; but + then I fancied I must be mistaken afterwards; for when I expected support, + my dear madam, you opposed my opinion in favour of Jamaica more warmly + than any one, and what was I to think?” + </p> + <p> + “To think! Oh, my dear doctor, you might have guessed that was only a sham + opposition.” + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear ma’am,” cried Dr. Wheeler, who, though the mildest of men, + was now worked up to something like indignation, “my dear ma’am—sham + upon sham is too much for any man!” + </p> + <p> + The doctor went down stairs murmuring. Thus, by excess of hypocrisy, our + heroine disgusted even her own adherents, in which she has the honour to + resemble some of the most wily politicians famous in English history. But + she was too wise ever to let any one who could serve or injure her go + discontented out of her presence. + </p> + <p> + “My dear, good Dr. Wheeler, I never saw you angry before. Come, come,” + cried Mrs. Beaumont, sliding a <i>douceur</i> into his hand, “friends must + not be vexed for trifles; it was only a mistake <i>de part et d’autre</i>, + and you’ll return here to-morrow, in your way home, and breakfast with us; + and now we understand one another. And,” added she, in a whisper, “we can + talk over things, and have your cool judgment best, when only you, and I, + and Mr. Palmer, are present. You comprehend.” + </p> + <p> + Those who practise many manoeuvres, and carry on many intrigues at the + same time, have this advantage, that if one fails, the success of another + compensates for the disappointment. However she might have been vexed by + this slight <i>contre-temps</i> with Dr. Wheeler, Mrs. Beaumont had ample + compensation of different sorts this day; some due to her own exertions, + some owing to accident. Her own exertions prevented her dear Albina Hunter + from returning; for Mrs. Beaumont never sent the promised carriage—only + a note of apology—a nail had run into one of the coach-horse’s feet. + To accident she owed that the Walsinghams were not at home when her son + galloped over to see them the next morning, and to inquire what news from + Captain Walsingham. That day’s paper also brought a contradiction of the + report of the engagement and victory; so that Mrs. Beaumont’s + apprehensions on this subject were allayed; and she had no doubt that, by + proper management, with a sufficient number of notes and messages, + misunderstandings, lame horses, and crossings upon the road, she might + actually get through the week without letting the Walsinghams see Mr. + Palmer; or at least without more than a <i>vis</i>, or a morning visit, + from which no great danger could be apprehended. “Few, indeed, have so + much character,” thought she, “or so much dexterity in showing it, as to + make a dangerous impression in the course of a formal morning visit.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. + </h2> + <p> + “Ah! c’est mentir tant soit peu; j’en conviens; C’est un grand mal—mais + il produit un bien.” VOLTAIRE. + </p> + <p> + The third day went off still more successfully. Dr. Wheeler called at + breakfast, frightened Mr. Palmer out of his senses about his health, and + convinced him that his life depended upon his immediate return to the + climate of Jamaica:—so this point was decided. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont, calculating justly that the Walsinghams would return Mr. + Beaumont’s visit, and come to pay their respects to Mr. Palmer this + morning, settled, as soon as breakfast was over, a plan of operations + which should keep Mr. Palmer out till dinner-time. He must see the + charming drive which her son had made round his improvements; and she must + have the pleasure of showing it to him herself; and she assured him that + he might trust to her driving. + </p> + <p> + So into Mrs. Beaumont’s garden-chair he got; and when she had him fairly + prisoner, she carried him far away from all danger of intruding visitors. + It may readily be supposed that our heroine made good use of the five or + six hours’ leisure for manoeuvring which she thus secured. + </p> + <p> + So frank and cordial was this simple-hearted old man, any one but Mrs. + Beaumont would have thought that with him no manoeuvring was necessary; + that she need only to have trusted to his friendship and generosity, and + have directly told him her wishes. He was so prepossessed in her favour, + as being the widow of his friend, that he was almost incapable of + suspecting her of any unhandsome conduct; besides, having had little + converse with modern ladies, his imagination was so prepossessed with the + old-fashioned picture of a respectable widow lady and guardian mother, + that he took it for granted Mrs. Beaumont was just like one of the good + matrons of former times, like Lady Bountiful, or Lady Lizard; and, as + such, he spoke to her of her family concerns, in all the openness of a + heart which knew no guile. + </p> + <p> + “Now, my good Mistress Beaumont, you must look upon me just as my friend + the colonel would have done; as a man, who has your family interests at + heart just as much as if I were one of yourselves. And let me in to all + your little affairs, and trust me with all your little plans, and let us + talk over things together, and settle how every thing can be done for the + best for the young people. You know, I have no relations in the world but + your family and the Walsinghams, of whom, by-the-bye, I know nothing. No + one living has any claim upon me: I can leave or give my own just as I + please; and you and yours are, of course, my first objects—and for + the how, and the what, and the when, I must consult you; and only beg you + to keep it in mind, that I would as soon <i>give</i> as <i>bequeath</i>, + and rather; for as to what a man leaves to his friends, he can only have + the satisfaction of thinking that they will be the better for him after he + is dead and gone, which is but cold comfort; but what he gives he has the + warm comfort of seeing them enjoy whilst he is alive with them.” + </p> + <p> + “Such a generous sentiment!” exclaimed Mrs. Beaumont, “and so unlike + persons in general who have large fortunes at their disposal! I feel so + much obliged, so excessively—” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all, not at all, not at all—no more of that, no more of + that, my good lady. The colonel and I were friends; so there can be no + obligation between us, nor thanks, nor speeches. But, just as if you were + talking to yourself, tell me your mind. And if there are any little + embarrassments that the son may want to clear off on coming of age; or if + there’s any thing wanting to your jointure, my dear madam; or if there + should be any marriages in the wind, where a few thousands, more or less, + might be the making or the breaking of a heart;—let me hear about it + all: and do me the justice to let me have the pleasure of making the young + folks, and the old folks too, happy their own way; for I have no notion of + insisting on all people being happy my way—no, no! I’ve too much + English liberty in me for that; and I’m sure, you, my good lady, are as + great a foe as I am to all family managements and mysteries, where the old + don’t know what the young do, nor the young what the old think. No, no—that’s + all nonsense and French convent work—nothing like a good old English + family. So, my dear Mistress Beaumont, out with it all, and make me one of + yourselves, free of the family from this minute. Here’s my hand and heart + upon it—an old friend may presume so far.” + </p> + <p> + This frankness would have opened any heart except Mrs. Beaumont’s; but it + is the misfortune of artful people that they cannot believe others to be + artless: either they think simplicity of character folly; or else they + suspect that openness is only affected, as a bait to draw them into + snares. Our heroine balanced for a moment between these two notions. She + could not believe Mr. Palmer to be an absolute fool—no; his having + made such a large fortune forbad that thought. Then he must have thrown + himself thus open merely to <i>try her</i>, and to come at the knowledge + of debts and embarrassments, which, if brought to light, would lower his + opinion of the prudence of the family. + </p> + <p> + “My excellent friend, to be candid with you,” she began, “there is no need + of your generosity at present, to relieve my son from any embarrassments; + for I know that he has no debts whatever. And I am confident he will make + my jointure every thing, and more than every thing, I could desire. And, + as to marriages, my Amelia is so young, there’s time enough to consider.” + </p> + <p> + “True, true; and she does well to take time to consider. But though I + don’t understand these matters much, she looks mightily like the notion I + have of a girl that’s a little bit in love.” + </p> + <p> + “In love! Oh, my dear sir! you don’t say so—in love?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I suppose I should not say <i>in love</i>; there’s some other way of + expressing it come into fashion since my time, no doubt. And even then, I + know that was not to be said of a young lady, till signing and sealing + day; but it popped out, and I can’t get it back again, so you must even + let it pass. And what harm? for you know, madam, without love, what would + become of the world?—though I was jilted once and away, I + acknowledge—but forgive and forget. I don’t like the girl a whit the + worse for being a little bit tender-hearted. For I’m morally certain, even + from the little I have heard her say, and from the way she has been + brought up, and from her being her father’s daughter, and her mother’s, + madam, she could not fix her affections on any one that would not do + honour to her choice, or—which is only saying the same thing in + other words—that you and I should not approve.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! there’s the thing!” said Mrs. Beaumont, sighing. + </p> + <p> + “Why now I took it into my head from a blush I saw this morning, though + how I came to notice it, I don’t know; for to my recollection I have not + noticed a girl’s blushing before these twenty years—but, to be sure, + here I have as near an interest, almost, as if she were my own daughter—I + say, from the blush I saw this morning, when young Beaumont was talking of + the gallop he had taken to inquire about Captain Walsingham, I took it + into my head that he was the happy man.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! my dear sir, he never made any proposals for Amelia.” That was + strictly true. “Nor, I am sure, ever thought of it, as far as ever I + heard.” + </p> + <p> + The saving clause of “<i>as far as ever I heard</i>,” prevented this last + assertion from coming under that description of falsehoods denominated + downright lies. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, how could he?” pursued Mrs. Beaumont, “for you know he is no + match for Amelia; he has nothing in the world but his commission. No; + there never was any proposal from that quarter; and, of course, it is + impossible my daughter could think of a man who has no thoughts of her.” + </p> + <p> + “You know best, my good madam; I merely spoke at random. I’m the worst + guesser in the world, especially on these matters: what people tell me, I + know; and neither more not less.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont rejoiced in the simplicity of her companion. “Then, my good + friend, it is but fair to tell you,” said she, “that Amelia has an + admirer.” + </p> + <p> + “A lover, hey! Who?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, there’s the misfortune; it is a thing I never can consent to.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! then now it is out! There’s the reason the girl blushes, and is so + absent at times.” + </p> + <p> + A plan now occurred to Mrs. Beaumont’s scheming imagination which she + thought the master-piece of policy. She determined to account for whatever + symptoms of embarrassment Mr. Palmer might observe in her daughter, by + attributing them to a thwarted attachment for Sir John Hunter; and Mrs. + Beaumont resolved to make a merit to Mr. Palmer of opposing this match + because the lover was a baronet, and she thought that Mr. Palmer would be + pleased by her showing an aversion to the thoughts of her daughter’s + marrying <i>a sprig of quality</i>. This ingenious method of paying her + court to her open-hearted friend, at the expense equally of truth and of + her daughter, she executed with her usual address. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’m heartily glad, my dear good madam, to find that you have the + same prejudices against sprigs of quality that I have. One good commoner + is worth a million of them to my mind. So I told a puppy of a nephew of + mine, who would go and buy a baronetage, forsooth—disinherited him! + but he is dead, poor puppy.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor young man! But this is all new to me,” said Mrs. Beaumont, with + well-feigned surprise. + </p> + <p> + “But did not you know, my dear madam, that I had a nephew, and that he is + dead?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes; but not the particulars.” + </p> + <p> + “No; the particulars I never talk of—not to the poor dog’s credit. + It’s well he’s dead, for if he had lived, I am afraid I should have + forgiven him. No, no, I never would. But there is no use in thinking any + more of that. What were we saying? Oh, about your Amelia—our Amelia, + let me call her. If she is so much attached, poor thing, to this man, + though he is a baronet, which I own is against him to my fancy, yet it is + to be presumed he has good qualities to balance that, since she values + him; and young people must be young, and have their little foolish + prepossessions for title, and so forth. To be sure, I should have thought + my friend’s daughter above that, of such a good family as she is, and with + such good sense as she inherits too. But we have all our foibles, I + suppose. And since it is so with Amelia, why do let me see this + baronet-swain of hers, and let me try what good I can find out in him, and + let me bring myself, if I can, over my prejudices. And then you, my dear + madam, so good and kind a mother as you are, will make an effort too on + your part; for we must see the girl happy, if it is not out of all sense + and reason. And if the man be worthy of her, it is not his fault that he + is a sprig of quality; and we must forgive and forget, and give our + consent, my dear Mrs. Beaumont.” + </p> + <p> + “And would you ever give your consent to her marrying Sir John Hunter?” + cried Mrs. Beaumont, breathless with amazement, and for a moment thrown + off her guard so as to speak quite naturally. The sudden difference in her + tone and manner struck even her unsuspicious companion, and he attributed + it to displeasure at this last hint. + </p> + <p> + “Why, my very dear good friend’s wife, forgive me,” said he, “for this + interference, and for, as it seems, opposing your opinion about your + daughter’s marriage, which no man has a right to do—but if you ask + me plump whether I could forgive her for marrying Sir John Hunter, I + answer, for I can speak nothing but the truth, I would, if he is a worthy + man.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought,” said Mrs. Beaumont, astonished, “you disinherited your own + nephew, because he took a baronet’s title against your will.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless you! no, my dear madam—that did displease me, to be sure—but + that was the least cause of displeasure I had. I let the world fancy and + say what they would, rather than bring faults to light.—But no more + about that.” + </p> + <p> + “But did not you take an oath that you would never leave a shilling of + your fortune to any <i>sprig of quality?</i>” + </p> + <p> + “Never! my dearest madam! never,” cried Mr. Palmer, laughing. “Never was + such a gander. See what oaths people put into one’s mouth.” + </p> + <p> + “And what lies the world tells,” said Mrs. Beaumont. + </p> + <p> + “And believes,” said Mr. Palmer, with a sly smile. + </p> + <p> + The surprise that Mrs. Beaumont felt was mixed with a strange and rapid + confusion of other sentiments, regret for having wasted such a quantity of + contrivance and manoeuvring against an imaginary difficulty. All this + arose from her too easy belief of <i>secret underhand information</i>. + </p> + <p> + Through the maze of artifice in which she had involved affairs, she now, + with some difficulty, perceived that plain truth would have served her + purpose better. But regret for the past was not in the least mixed with + any thing like remorse or penitence; on the contrary, she instantly began + to consider how she could best profit by her own wrong. She thought she + saw two of her favourite objects almost within her reach, Mr. Palmer’s + fortune, and the future title for her daughter: no obstacle seemed likely + to oppose the accomplishment of her wishes, except Amelia’s own + inclinations: these she thought she could readily prevail upon her to give + up; for she knew that her daughter was both of a timid and of an + affectionate temper; that she had never in any instance withstood, or even + disputed, her maternal authority; and that dread of her displeasure had + often proved sufficient to make Amelia suppress or sacrifice her own + feelings. Combining all these reflections with her wonted rapidity, Mrs. + Beaumont determined what her play should now be. She saw, or thought she + saw, that she ought, either by gentle or strong means, to lure or + intimidate Amelia to her purpose; and that, while she carried on this part + of the plot with her daughter in private, she should appear to Mr. Palmer + to yield to his persuasions by degrees, to make the young people happy + their own way, and to be persuaded reluctantly out of her aversion to <i>sprigs + of quality</i>. To be sure, it would be necessary to give fresh + explanations and instructions to Sir John Hunter, through his sister, with + the new parts that he and she were to act in this domestic drama. As soon + as Mrs. Beaumont returned from her airing, therefore, she retired to her + own apartment, and wrote a note of explanation, with a proper proportion + of sentiment and <i>verbiage,</i> to her dear Albina, begging to see her + and Sir John Hunter the very next day. The horse, which had been lamed by + the nail, now, of course, had recovered; and it was found by Mrs. Beaumont + that she had been misinformed, and that he had been lamed only by sudden + cramp. Any excuse she knew would be sufficient, in the present state of + affairs, to the young lady, who was more ready to be deceived than even + our heroine was disposed to deceive. Indeed, as Machiavel says, “as there + are people willing to cheat, there will always be those who are ready to + be cheated.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. + </h2> + <p> + “Vous m’enchantez, mais vous m’épouvantez; Ces pieges-là sont-ils bien + ajustés? Craignez vous point de vous laisser surprendre Dans les filets + que vos mains savent tendre?” VOLTAIRE. + </p> + <p> + To prepare Amelia to receive Sir John Hunter <i>properly</i> was Mrs. + Beaumont’s next attempt; for as she had represented to Mr. Palmer that her + daughter was attached to Sir John, it was necessary that her manner should + in some degree accord with this representation, that at least it should + not exhibit any symptoms of disapprobation or dislike: whatever coldness + or reserve might appear, it would be easy to attribute to bashfulness and + dread of Mr. Palmer’s observation. When Amelia was undressing at night, + her mother went into her room; and, having dismissed the maid, threw + herself into an arm-chair, and exclaimed, half-yawning, “How tired I am!—No + wonder, such a long airing as we took to-day. But, my dear Amelia, I could + not sleep to-night without telling you how glad I am to find that you are + such a favourite with Mr. Palmer.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad he likes me,” said Amelia; “I am sure I like him. What a + benevolent, excellent man he seems to be!” + </p> + <p> + “Excellent, excellent—the best creature in the world!—And so + interested about you! and so anxious that you should be well and soon + established; almost as anxious about it as I am myself.” + </p> + <p> + “He is very good—and you are very good, mamma; but there is no + occasion that I should be <i>soon established</i>, as it is called—is + there?” + </p> + <p> + “That is the regular answer, you know, in these cases, from every young + lady that ever was born, in or out of a book within the memory of man. But + we will suppose all that to be said prettily on your part, and answered + properly on mine: so give me leave to go on to something more to the + purpose; and don’t look so alarmed, my love. You know, I am not a hurrying + person; you shall take your own time, and every thing shall be done as you + like, and the whole shall be kept amongst ourselves entirely; for nothing + is so disadvantageous and distressing to a young woman as to have these + things talked of in the world long before they take place.” + </p> + <p> + “But, ma’am!—Surely there is no marriage determined upon for me, + without my even knowing it.” + </p> + <p> + “Determined upon!—Oh dear, no, my darling. You shall decide every + thing for yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, mother; now you are kind indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “Indubitably, my dearest Amelia, I would not decide on any thing without + consulting you: for I have the greatest dependence on your prudence and + judgment. With a silly romantic girl, who had no discretion, I should + certainly think it my duty to do otherwise; and if I saw my daughter + following headlong some idle fancy of fifteen, I should interpose my + authority at once, and say, It must not be. But I know my Amelia so well, + that I am confident she will judge as prudently for herself as I could for + her; and indeed, I am persuaded that our opinions will be now, as they + almost always are, my sweet girl, the same.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope so mamma—but——” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, I’ll allow a maidenly <i>but</i>—and you will allow + that Sir John Hunter shall be the man at last.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mamma, that can never be,” said Amelia, with much earnestness. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Never</i>—A young lady’s <i>never</i>, Amelia, I will allow too. + Don’t interrupt me, my dear—but give me leave to tell you again, + that you shall have your own time—Mr. Palmer has given his consent + and approbation.” + </p> + <p> + “Consent and approbation!” cried Amelia. “And is it come to this? without + even consulting me! And is this the way I am left to judge for myself?—Oh, + mother! mother! what will become of me?” + </p> + <p> + Amelia, who had long had experience that it was vain for her to attempt to + counteract or oppose any scheme that her mother had planned, sat down at + this instant in despair: but even from despair she took courage; and, + rising suddenly, exclaimed, “I never can or will marry Sir John Hunter—for + I love another person—mother, you know I do—and I will speak + truth, and abide by it, let the consequences be what they may.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear, don’t speak so loud, at all events; for though it may be + very proper to speak the truth, it is not necessary that the whole + universe should hear it. You speak of another attachment—is it + possible that you allude to Captain Walsingham? But Captain Walsingham has + never proposed for you, nor even given you any reason to think he would; + or if he has, he must have deceived me in the grossest manner.” + </p> + <p> + “He is incapable of deceiving any body,” said Amelia. “He never gave me + any reason to think he would propose for me; nor ever made the slightest + attempt to engage my affections. You saw his conduct: it was always + uniform. He is incapable of any double or underhand practices.” + </p> + <p> + “In the warmth of your eulogium on Captain Walsingham, you seem, Amelia, + to forget that you reflect, in the most severe manner, upon yourself: for + what woman, what young woman especially, who has either delicacy, pride, + or prudence, can avow that she loves a man, who has never given, even by + her own statement of the matter, the slightest reason to believe that he + thinks of her?” + </p> + <p> + Amelia stood abashed, and for some instants incapable of reply: but at + last, approaching her mother, and hiding her face, as she hung over her + shoulder, she said, in a low and timid voice, “It was only to my mother—I + thought that could not be wrong—and when it was to prevent a greater + wrong, the engaging myself to another person.” + </p> + <p> + “Engaging yourself, my foolish child! but did I not tell you that you + should have your own time?” + </p> + <p> + “But no time, mother, will do.” + </p> + <p> + “Try, my dear love; that is all I ask of you; and this you cannot, in + duty, in kindness, in prudence, or with decency, refuse me.” + </p> + <p> + “Cannot I?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed you cannot. So say not a word more that can lessen the high + opinion I have of you; but show me that you have a becoming sense of your + own and of female dignity, and that you are not the poor, mean-spirited + creature, to pine for a man who disdains you.” + </p> + <p> + “Disdain! I never saw any disdain. On the contrary, though he never gave + me reason to think so, I cannot help fancying——” + </p> + <p> + “That he likes you—and yet he never proposed for you! Do not believe + it—a man may coquet as well as a woman, and often more; but till he + makes his proposal, never, if you have any value for your own happiness or + dignity, fancy for a moment that he loves you.” + </p> + <p> + “But he cannot marry, because he is so poor.” + </p> + <p> + “True—and if so, what stronger argument can be brought against your + thinking of him?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not think of him—I endeavour not to think of him.” + </p> + <p> + “That is my own girl! Depend upon it, he thinks not of you. He is all in + his profession—prefers it to every woman upon earth. I have heard + him say he would not give it up for any consideration. All for glory, you + see; nothing for love.” + </p> + <p> + Amelia sighed. Her mother rose, and kissing her, said, as if she took + every thing she wished for granted, “So, my Amelia, I am glad to see you + reasonable, and ready to show a spirit that becomes you—Sir John + Hunter breakfasts here to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Amelia, detaining her mother, who would have left the room, “I + cannot encourage Sir John Hunter, for I do not esteem him; therefore I am + sure I can never love him.” + </p> + <p> + “You cannot encourage Sir John Hunter, Amelia?” replied Mrs. Beaumont. “It + is extraordinary that this should appear to you an impossibility the very + moment the gentleman proposes for you. It was not always so. Allow me to + remind you of a ball last year, where you and I met both Sir John Hunter + and Captain Walsingham; as I remember, you gave all your attention that + evening to Sir John.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mother, I am ashamed of that evening—I regret it more than any + evening of my life. I did wrong, very wrong; and bitterly have I suffered + for it, as people always do, sooner or later, by deceit. I was afraid that + you should see my real feelings; and, to conceal them, I, for the first + and last time of my life, acted like a coquette. But if you recollect, + dear mother, the very next day I confessed the truth to you. My friend, + Miss Walsingham, urged me to have the courage to be sincere.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Walsingham! On every occasion I find the secret influence of these + Walsinghams operating in my family,” cried Mrs. Beaumont, from a sudden + impulse of anger, which threw her off her guard. + </p> + <p> + “Surely their influence has always been beneficial to us all. To me, Miss + Walsingham’s friendship has been of the greatest service.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; by secretly encouraging you, against your mother’s approbation, in a + ridiculous passion for a man who neither can nor will marry you.” + </p> + <p> + “Far from encouraging me, madam, in any thing contrary to your wishes—and + far from wishing to do any thing secretly, Miss Walsingham never spoke to + me on this subject but once; and that was to advise me strongly not to + conceal the truth from you, and not to make use of any artifices or + manoeuvres.” + </p> + <p> + “Possibly, very possibly; but I presume you could conduct yourself + properly without Miss Walsingham’s interference or advice.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought, mamma, you liked Miss Walsingham particularly, and that you + wished I should cultivate her friendship.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; I admire Miss Walsingham extremely, and wish to be on the best + terms with the family; but I will never permit any one to interfere + between me and my children. We should have gone on better without + advisers.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure her advice and friendship have preserved me from many faults, + but never led me into any. I might, from timidity, and from fear of your + superior address and abilities, have become insincere and artful; but she + has given me strength of mind enough to bear the present evil, and to dare + at all hazards to speak the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “But, my dearest Amelia,” said Mrs. Beaumont, softening her tone, “why so + warm? What object can your mother have but your good? Can any Miss + Walsingham, or any other friend upon earth, have your interest so much at + heart as I have? Why am I so anxious, if it is not from love to you?” + </p> + <p> + Amelia was touched by her mother’s looks and words of affection, and + acknowledged that she had spoken with too much warmth. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont thought she could make advantage of this moment. + </p> + <p> + “Then, my beloved child, if you are convinced of my affection for you, + show at least some confidence in me in return: show some disposition to + oblige me. Here is a match I approve; here is an establishment every way + suitable.” + </p> + <p> + “But why, mamma, must I be married?” interrupted Amelia. “I will not + think, at least I will try not to think, of any one of whom you do not + approve; but I cannot marry any other man while I feel such a partiality + for—. So, dear mother, pray do not let Sir John Hunter come here any + more on my account. It is not necessary that I should marry.” + </p> + <p> + “It is necessary, however,” said Mrs. Beaumont, withdrawing her hand + haughtily, and darting a look of contempt and anger upon her daughter, “it + is necessary, however, that I should be mistress in my own house, and that + I should invite here whomever I please. And it is necessary that you + should receive them without airs, and with politeness. On this, observe, I + insist, and will be obeyed.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont would receive no reply, but left the room seemingly in great + displeasure: but even half her anger was affected, to intimidate this + gentle girl. + </p> + <p> + Sir John Hunter and his sister arrived to breakfast. Mrs. Beaumont played + her part admirably; so that she seemed to Mr. Palmer only to be enduring + Sir John from consideration for her daughter, and from compliance with Mr. + Palmer’s own request that she would try what could be done to make the + young people happy; yet she, with infinite address, <i>drew Sir John out</i>, + and dexterously turned every thing he said into what she thought would + please Mr. Palmer, though all the time she seemed to be misunderstanding + or confuting him. Mr. Palmer’s attention, which was generally fixed + exclusively on one object at a time, had ample occupation in studying Sir + John, whom he examined, for Amelia’s sake, with all the honest penetration + which he possessed. Towards Amelia herself he scarcely ever looked; for, + without any refinement of delicacy, he had sufficient feeling and sense to + avoid what he thought would embarrass a young lady. Amelia’s silence and + reserve appeared to him, therefore, as her politic mother had foreseen, + just what was natural and proper. He had been told that she was attached + to Sir John Hunter; and the idea of doubting the truth of what Mrs. + Beaumont had asserted could not enter his confiding mind. + </p> + <p> + In the mean time, our heroine, to whom the conduct of a double intrigue + was by no means embarrassing, did not neglect the affairs of her dear + Albina: she had found time before breakfast, as she met Miss Hunter + getting out of her carriage, to make herself sure that her notes of + explanation had been understood; and she now, by a multitude of scarcely + perceptible inuendoes, and seemingly suppressed looks of pity, contrived + to carry on the representation she had made to her son of this damsel’s + helpless and lovelorn state. Indeed, the young lady appeared as much in + love as could have been desired for stage effect, and rather more than was + necessary for propriety. All Mrs. Beaumont’s art, therefore, was exerted + to throw a veil of becoming delicacy over what might have been too + glaring, by hiding half to improve the whole. Where there was any want of + management on the part of her young coadjutrix, she, with exquisite skill, + made advantage even of these errors by look? and sighs, that implied + almost as emphatically as words could have said to her son—“You see + what I told you is too true. The simple creature has not art enough to + conceal her passion. She is undone in the eyes of the world, if you do not + confirm what report has said.” + </p> + <p> + This she left to work its natural effect upon the vanity of man. And in + the midst of these multiplied manoeuvres, Mrs. Beaumont sat with ease and + unconcern, sometimes talking to one, sometimes to another; so that a + stranger would have thought her a party uninterested in all that was going + forward, and might have wondered at her blindness or indifference. + </p> + <p> + But, alas! notwithstanding her utmost art, she failed this day in turning + and twisting Sir John Hunter’s conversation and character so as to make + them agreeable to Mr. Palmer. This she knew by his retiring at an early + hour at night, as he sometimes did when company was not agreeable to him. + His age gave him this privilege. Mrs. Beaumont followed, to inquire if he + would not wish to <i>take something</i> before he went to rest. + </p> + <p> + “By St. George, Madam Beaumont, you are right,” said Mr. Palmer, “you are + right, in not liking this baronet. I’m tired of him—sick of him—can’t + like him!—sorry for it, since Amelia likes him. But what can a + daughter of Colonel Beaumont find in this man to be pleased with? He is a + baronet, to be sure, but that is all. Tell me, my good madam, what it is + the girl likes in him?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont could only answer by an equivocal smile, and a shrug, that + seemed to say—there’s no accounting for these things. + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear madam,” pursued Mr. Palmer, “the man is neither handsome nor + young: he is old enough for her father, though he gives himself the airs + of a youngster; and his manners are—I can allow for fashionable + manners. But, madam, it is his character I don’t like—selfish—cold—designing—not + a generous thought, not a good feeling about him. You are right, madam, + quite right. In all his conversation such meanness, and even in what he + means for wit, such a contempt of what is fair and honourable! Now that + fellow does not believe that such a thing as virtue or patriotism, honour + or friendship, exists. The jackanapes!—and as for love! why, madam, + I’m convinced he is no more in love with the girl than I am, nor so much, + ma’am, nor half so much!—does not feel her merit, does not value her + accomplishments, does not Madam! madam! he is thinking of nothing but + himself, and her fortune—fortune! fortune! fortune! that’s all. The + man’s a miser. Madam, they that know no better fancy that there are none + but old misers; but I can tell them there are young misers, and + middle-aged misers, and misers of all ages. They say such a man can’t be a + miser, because he is a spendthrift; but, madam, you know a man can be both—yes, + and that’s what many of your young men of fashion are, and what, I’ll + engage, this fellow is. And can Amelia like him? my poor child! and does + she think he loves her? my poor, poor child! how can she be so blind? but + love is always blind, they say. I’ve a great mind to take her to task, and + ask her, between ourselves, what it is she likes in her baronet.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my dear sir! she would sink to the centre of the earth if you were to + speak. For Heaven’s sake, don’t take her to task, foolish as she is; + besides, she would be so angry with me for telling you.” + </p> + <p> + “Angry? the gipsy! Am not I her godfather and her guardian? though I could + not act, because I was abroad, yet her guardian I was left by her father, + and love her too as well as I should a daughter of her father’s—and + she to have secrets, and mysteries! that would be worse than all the rest, + for mysteries are what I abhor. Madam, wherever there are secrets and + mysteries in a family, take my word for it, there is somethings wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “True, my dear sir; but Amelia has no idea of mysteries or art. I only + meant that young girls, you know, will be ashamed on these occasions, and + we must make allowances. So do not speak to her, I conjure you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, madam, you are her mother, and must know best. I have only her + interest at heart: but I won’t speak to her, since it will so distress + her. But what shall be done about this lover? You are quite right about + him, and I have not a word more to say.” + </p> + <p> + “But I declare I think you judge him too harshly. Though I am not inclined + to be his friend, yet I must do him the justice to say, he has more good + qualities than you allow, or rather than you have seen yet. He is + passionately fond of Amelia. Oh, there you’re wrong, quite wrong; he is + passionately in love, whatever he may pretend to the contrary.” + </p> + <p> + “Pretend! and why should the puppy pretend not to be in love?” + </p> + <p> + “Pride, pride and fashion. Young men are so governed by fashion, and so + afraid of ridicule. There’s a set of <i>fashionables</i> now, with whom + love is a <i>bore, </i>you know.” + </p> + <p> + “I know! no, indeed, I know no such thing,” said Mr. Palmer. “But this I + know, that I hate pretences of all sorts; and if the man is in love, I + should, for my part, like him the better for showing it.” + </p> + <p> + “So he will, when you know him a little better. You are quite a stranger, + and he is bashful.” + </p> + <p> + “Bashful! Never saw so confident a man in any country.” + </p> + <p> + “But he is shy under all that.” + </p> + <p> + “Under! But I don’t like characters where every thing is under something + different from what appears at top.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, take a day or two more to study him. Though I am his enemy, I must + deal fairly by him, for poor Amelia’s sake.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a good mother, madam, an indulgent mother, and I honour and love + you for it. I’ll follow your example, and bear with this + spendthrift-miser-coxcomb sprig of quality for a day or two more, and try + to like him, for Amelia’s sake. But, if he’s not worthy of her, he sha’n’t + have her, by St. George, he shall not—shall he, madam?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, no; good night, my good sir.” + </p> + <p> + What the manoeuvres of the next day might have effected, and how far Sir + John Hunter profited by the new instructions which were given to him in + consequence of this conversation, can never be accurately ascertained, + because the whole united plan of operations was disturbed by a new and + unforeseen event. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. + </h2> + <p> + “Un volto senza senno, Un petto senza core, un cor senz’ alma, Un’ alma + senza fede.” GUARINI. + </p> + <p> + “Here’s glorious news of Captain Walsingham!” cried young Beaumont; “I + always knew he would distinguish himself if he had an opportunity; and, + thank God! he has had as fine an opportunity as heart could wish. Here, + mother! here, Mr. Palmer, is an account of it in this day’s paper! and + here is a letter from himself, which Mr. Walsingham has just sent me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, give <i>me</i> the letter,” cried Mrs. Beaumont, with affected + eagerness. + </p> + <p> + “Let me have the paper, then,” cried Mr. Palmer. “Where are my + spectacles?” + </p> + <p> + “Are there any letters for <i>me?</i>” said Sir John Hunter. “Did my + newspapers come? Albina, I desired that they should be forwarded here. + Mrs. Beaumont, can you tell me any thing of <i>my</i> papers?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Amelia, how interesting your brother looks when he is pleased!” + Albina whispered, quite loud enough to be heard. + </p> + <p> + “A most gallant action, by St. George!” exclaimed Mr. Palmer. “These are + the things that keep up the honour of the British navy, and the glory of + Britain.” + </p> + <p> + “This Spanish ship that Captain Walsingham captured the day after the + engagement is likely to turn out a valuable prize, too,” said Mrs. + Beaumont. “I am vastly glad to find this by his letter, for the money will + be useful to him, he wanted it so much. He does not say how much his share + will come to, does he, Edward?” + </p> + <p> + “No, ma’am: you see he writes in a great hurry, and he has only time, as + he says, to mention <i>the needful</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “And is not the money <i>the needful?</i>” said Sir John Hunter, with a + splenetic smile. + </p> + <p> + “With Walsingham it is only a secondary consideration,” replied Beaumont; + “honour is Captain Walsingham’s first object. I dare say he has never yet + calculated what his prize-money will be.” + </p> + <p> + “Right, right!” reiterated Mr. Palmer; “then he is the right sort. Long + may it be before our naval officers think more of prize-money than of + glory! Long may it be before our honest tars turn into calculating + pirates!” + </p> + <p> + “They never will or can whilst they have such officers as Captain + Walsingham,” said Beaumont. + </p> + <p> + “By St. George, he seems to be a fine fellow, and you a warm friend,” said + Mr. Palmer. “Ay, ay, the colonel’s own son. But why have I never seen any + of these Walsinghams since I came to the country? Are they ashamed of + being related to me, because I am a merchant?” + </p> + <p> + “More likely they are too proud to pay court to you because you are so + rich,” said Mr. Beaumont. “But they did come to see you, sir,—the + morning you were out so late, mother, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, ay, true—how unfortunate!” + </p> + <p> + “But have not we horses? have not we carriages? have not we legs?” said + Mr. Palmer. “I’ll go and see these Walsinghams to-morrow, please God I + live so long: for I am proud of my relationship to this young hero; and I + won’t be cast off by good people, let them be as proud as they will—that’s + their fault—but I will not stand on idle ceremony: so, my good + Mistress Beaumont, we will all go in a body, and storm their castle + to-morrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + “An admirable plan! I like it of all things!” said Mrs. Beaumont. “How + few, even in youth, are so active and enthusiastic as our good friend! + But, my dear Mr. Palmer—” + </p> + <p> + “But I wish I could see the captain himself. Is there any chance of his + coming home?” + </p> + <p> + “Home! yes,” said Beaumont: “did you not read his letter, sir? here it is; + he will be at home directly. He says, ‘perhaps a few hours after this + letter reaches you, you’ll see me.’” + </p> + <p> + “See him! Odds my life, I’m glad of it. And you, my little Amelia,” said + Mr. Palmer, tapping her shoulders as she stood with her back to him + reading the newspaper; “and you, my little silent one, not one word have I + heard from you all this time. Does not some spark of your father’s spirit + kindle within you on hearing of this heroic relation of ours?” + </p> + <p> + “Luckily for the ladies, sir,” said Sir John Hunter, coming up, as he + thought, to the lady’s assistance—“luckily for young ladies, sir, + they are not called upon to be heroes; and it would be luckier still for + us men, if they never set themselves up for heroines—Ha! ha! ha! + Miss Beaumont,” continued he, “the shower is over; I’ll order the horses + out, that we may have our ride.” Sir John left the room, evidently pleased + with his own wit. + </p> + <p> + “Amelia, my love,” said Mrs. Beaumont, who drew up also to give assistance + at this critical juncture, “go, this moment, and write a note to your + friend Miss Walsingham, to say that we shall all be with them early + to-morrow: I will send a servant directly, that we may be sure to meet + with them at home this time; you’ll find pen, ink, and paper in my + dressing-room, love.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont drew Amelia’s arm within hers, and, dictating kindest + messages for the Walsinghams, led her out of the room. Having thus + successfully covered her daughter’s retreat, our skilful manoeuvrer + returned, all self-complacent, to the company. And next, to please the + warm-hearted Mr. Palmer, she seemed to sympathize in his patriotic + enthusiasm for the British navy: she pronounced a panegyric on the <i>young + hero,</i> Captain Walsingham, which made the good old man rub his hands + with exultation, and which irradiated with joy the countenance of her son. + But, alas! Mrs. Beaumont’s endeavours to please, or rather to dupe all + parties, could not, even with her consummate address, always succeed: + though she had an excellent memory, and great presence of mind, with + peculiar quickness both of eye and ear, yet she could not always register, + arrange, and recollect all that was necessary for the various parts she + undertook to act. Scarcely had she finished her eulogium on Captain + Walsingham, when, to her dismay, she saw close behind her Sir John Hunter, + who had entered the room without her perceiving it. He said not one word; + but his clouded brow showed his suspicions, and his extreme displeasure. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Beaumont,” said he, after some minutes’ silence, “I find I must have + the honour of wishing you a good morning, for I have an indispensable + engagement at home to dinner to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought, Sir John, you and Amelia were going to ride?” + </p> + <p> + “Ma’am, Miss Beaumont does not choose to ride—she told me, so this + instant as I passed her on the stairs. Oh! don’t disturb her, I beg—she + is writing to Miss Walsingham—I have the honour to wish you a good + morning, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you are determined to go, let me say three words to you in the + music-room, Sir John: though,” added she, in a whisper intended to be + heard by Mr. Palmer, “I know you do not look upon me as your friend, yet + depend upon it I shall treat you and all the world with perfect candour.” + </p> + <p> + Sir John, though sulky, could not avoid following the lady; and as soon as + she had shut all the doors and double-doors of the music-room, she + exclaimed, “It is always best to speak openly to one’s friends. Now, my + dear Sir John Hunter, how can you be so childish as to take ill of me what + I really was forced to say, for <i>your</i> interest, about Captain + Walsingham, to Mr. Palmer? You know old Palmer is the oddest, most + self-willed man imaginable! humour and please him I must, the few days he + is with me. You know he goes on Tuesday—that’s decided—Dr. + Wheeler has seen him, has talked to him about his health, and it is + absolutely necessary that he should return to the West Indies. Then he is + perfectly determined to leave all he has to Amelia.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma’am; but how am I sure of being the better for that?” interrupted + Sir John, whose decided selfishness was a match for Mrs. Beaumont’s + address, because it went without scruple or ceremony straight to his + object; “for, ma’am, you can’t think I’m such a fool as not to see that + Mr. Palmer wishes me at the devil. Miss Beaumont gives me no + encouragement; and you, ma’am, I know, are too good a politician to offend + Mr. Palmer: so, if he declares in favour of this young <i>hero,</i> + Captain Walsingham, I may quit the field.” + </p> + <p> + “But you don’t consider that Mr. Palmer’s young hero has never made any + proposal for Amelia.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw! ma’am—but I know, as well as you do, that he likes her, and + propose he will for her now that he has money.” + </p> + <p> + “Granting that; you forget that all this takes time, and that Palmer will + be gone to the West Indies before they can bring out their proposal; and + as soon as he is gone, and has left his will, as he means to do, with me, + you and I have the game in our own hands. It is very extraordinary to me + that you do not seem to understand my play, though I explained the whole + to Albina; and I thought she had made you comprehend the necessity for my + <i>seeming,</i> for this one week, to be less your friend than I could + wish, because of your title, and that odd whim of Palmer, you know: but I + am sure we understand one another now.” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me,” said the invincible Sir John: “I confess, Mrs. Beaumont, you + have so much more abilities, and <i>finesse</i>, and all that sort of + thing, than I have, that I cannot help being afraid of—of not + understanding the business rightly. In business there is nothing like + understanding one another, and going on sure grounds. There has been so + much going backwards and forwards, and explanations and manoeuvres, that I + am not clear how it is; nor do I feel secure even that I have the honour + of your approbation.” + </p> + <p> + “What! not when I have assured you of it, Sir John, in the most + unequivocal manner?” + </p> + <p> + It was singular that the only person to whom in this affair Mrs. Beaumont + spoke the real truth should not believe her. Sir John Hunter continued + obstinately suspicious and incredulous. He had just heard that his uncle + Wigram, his rich uncle Wigram, was taken ill, and not likely to recover. + This intelligence had also reached Mrs. Beaumont, and she was anxious to + secure the baronet and the Wigram fortune for her daughter; but nothing + she could say seemed to satisfy him that she was not double-dealing. At + last, to prove to him her sincerity, she gave him what he required, and + what alone, he said, could make his mind easy, could bring him to make up + his mind—<i>a written assurance</i> of her approbation of his + addresses to Amelia. With this he was content; “for,” said he, “what is + written remains, and there can be no misunderstandings in future, or + changing of minds.” + </p> + <p> + It was agreed between these confidential friends, that Sir John should + depart, <i>as it were</i>, displeased; and she begged that he would not + return till Mr. Palmer should have left the country. + </p> + <p> + Now there was a numerous tribe of <i>hangers-on</i>, who were in the habit + of frequenting Beaumont Park, whom Mrs. Beaumont loved to see at her + house; because, besides making her feel her own importance, they were + frequently useful to carry on the subordinate parts of her perpetual + manoeuvres. Among these secondary personages who attended Mrs. Beaumont + abroad to increase her consequence in the eyes of common spectators, and + who at home filled the stage, and added to the bustle and effect, her + chief favourites were Mr. Twigg (the same gentleman who was deputed to + decide upon the belt or the screen) and Captain Lightbody. Mr. Twigg was + the most, elegant flatterer of the two, but Captain Lightbody was the most + assured, and upon the whole made his way the best. He was a handsome man, + had a good address, could tell a good story, sing a good song, and <i>make + things go off</i> well, when there was company; so that he was a + prodigious assistance to the mistress of the house. Then he danced with + the young ladies when they had no other partners; he mounted guard + regularly beside the piano-forte, or the harp, when the ladies were + playing; and at dinner it was always the etiquette for him to sit beside + Miss Beaumont, or Miss Hunter, when the gentlemen guests were not such as + Mrs. Beaumont thought entitled to that honour, or such as she deemed <i>safe</i> + companions. These arrangements imply that Captain Lightbody thought + himself in Mrs. Beaumont’s confidence: and so he was to a certain degree, + just enough to flatter him into doing her high or low behests. Whenever + she had a report to circulate, or to contradict, Captain Lightbody was put + in play; and no man could be better calculated for this purpose, both from + his love of talking, and of locomotion. He galloped about from place to + place, and from one great house to another; knew all the lords and ladies, + and generals and colonels, and brigade-majors and aides-de-camp, in the + land. Could any mortal be better qualified to fetch and carry news for + Mrs. Beaumont? Besides news, it was his office to carry compliments, and + to speed the intercourse, not perhaps from soul to soul, but from house to + house, which is necessary in a visiting country to keep up the character + of an agreeable neighbour. Did Mrs. Beaumont forget to send a card of + invitation, or neglect to return a visit, Lightbody was to set it to + rights for her, Lightbody, the ready bearer of pretty notes, the maker + always, the fabricator sometimes, of the civilest speeches imaginable. + This expert speechifier, this ever idle, ever busy scamperer, our heroine + dispatched to engage a neighbouring family to pay her a morning visit the + next day, just about the time which was fixed for her going to see the + Walsinghams. The usual caution was given. “Pray, Lightbody, do not let my + name be used; do not let me be mentioned; but take it upon yourself, and + say, as if from yourself, that you have reason to believe I take it ill + that they have not been here lately. And then you can mention the hour + that would be most convenient. But let me have nothing to do with it. I + must not appear in it on any account.” + </p> + <p> + In consequence of Captain Lightbody’s faithful execution of his secret + instructions, a barouche full of morning visitors drove to the door, just + at the time when Mrs. Beaumont had proposed to set out for Walsingham + House. Mrs. Beaumont, with a well-dissembled look of vexation, exclaimed, + as she looked out of the window at the carriage, “How provoking! Who can + these people be? I hope Martin will say I am not at home. Ring—ring, + Amelia. Oh, it’s too late, they have seen me! and Martin, stupid creature! + has let them in.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Palmer was much discomfited, and grew more and more impatient when + these troublesome visitors protracted their stay, and proposed a walk to + see some improvements in the grounds. + </p> + <p> + “But, my good Mistress Beaumont,” said he, “you know we are engaged to our + cousin Walsingham this morning; and if you will give me leave, I will go + on before you with Mr. Beaumont, and we can say what detains you.” + </p> + <p> + Disconcerted by this simple determination of this straight-forward, + plain-spoken old gentleman, Mrs. Beaumont saw that farther delay on her + part would be not only inefficacious, but dangerous. She now was eager to + be relieved from the difficulties which she had herself contrived. She + would not, for any consideration, have trusted Mr. Palmer to pay this + visit without her: therefore, by an able counter-movement, she extricated + herself not only without loss, but with advantage, from this perilous + situation. She made a handsome apology to her visitors for being obliged + to run away from them. “She would leave Amelia to have the pleasure of + showing them the grounds.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont was irresistible in her arrangements. Amelia, disappointed + and afraid to show how deeply she felt the disappointment, was obliged to + stay to do the honours of Beaumont Park, whilst her mother drove off + rejoicing in half the success, at least, of her stratagem; but even as a + politician she used upon every occasion too much artifice. It was said of + Cardinal Mazarin, he is a great politician, but in all his politics there + is one capital defect—“<i>C’est qu’il veut toujours tromper</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “How tiresome those people were! I thought we never should have got away + from them,” said Mrs. Beaumont. “What possessed them to come this morning, + and to pay such a horrid long visit? Besides, those Duttons, at all times, + are the most stupid creatures upon the face of the earth; I cannot endure + them; so awkward and ill-bred too! and yet of a good family—who + could think it? They are people one must see, but they are absolutely + insufferable.” + </p> + <p> + “Insufferable!” said Mr. Palmer; “why, my good madam, then you have the + patience of a martyr; for you suffered them so patiently, that I never + should have guessed you suffered at all. I protest I thought they were + friends and favourites of yours, and that you were very glad to see them.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, ‘tis the way of the world,” continued Mr. Palmer; “this sort + of—what do you call it? double-dealing about visitors, goes on every + where, Madam Beaumont. But how do I know, that when I go away, you may not + be as glad to get rid of me as you were to get away from these Duttons?” + added he, in a tone of forced jocularity. “How do I know, but that the + minute my back is turned, you may not begin to take me to pieces in my + turn, and say, ‘That old Palmer! he was the most tiresome, humoursome, + strange, old-fashioned fellow; I thought we should never have got rid of + him?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear, dear sir, how can you speak in such a manner?” cried Mrs. + Beaumont, who had made several vain attempts to interrupt this speech. + “You, who are our best friend! is it possible you could suspect? Is there + no difference to be made between friends and common acquaintance?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure I hope there is,” said Mr. Palmer, smiling. + </p> + <p> + There was something so near the truth in Mr. Palmer’s raillery, that Mrs. + Beaumont could not take it with as much easy unconcern as the occasion + required, especially in the presence of her son, who maintained a + provoking silence. Unhappy indeed are those, who cannot, in such moments + of distress, in their own families, and in their nearest connexions, find + any relief from their embarrassments, and who look round in vain for one + to be <i>responsible</i> for their sincerity. Mrs. Beaumont sat uneasy and + almost disconcerted. Mr. Palmer felt for his snuff-box, his usual + consolation; but it was not in his pocket: he had left it on his table. + Now Mrs. Beaumont was relieved, for she had something to do, and something + to say with her wonted politeness: in spite of all remonstrance from Mr. + Palmer, her man Martin was sent back for the snuff-box; and conjectures + about his finding it, and his being able to overtake them before they + arrived at Walsingham house, supplied conversation for a mile or two. + </p> + <p> + “Here’s Martin coming back full gallop, I vow,” said Miss Hunter, who + could also talk on this topic. + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, my good lady,” said Mr. Palmer, (taking the moment when the + young lady had turned her back as she stretched out of the carriage for + the pleasure of seeing Martin gallop)—“Come, come, my good Mrs. + Beaumont, shake hands and be friends, and hang the Duttons! I did not mean + to vex you by what I said. I am not so polite as I should be, I know, and + you perhaps are a little too polite. But that is no great harm, especially + in a woman.” + </p> + <p> + Martin and the snuff-box came up at this instant; and all was apparently + as well as ever. Yet Mrs. Beaumont, who valued a reputation for sincerity + as much as Chartres valued a reputation for honesty, and nearly upon the + same principle, was seriously vexed that even this transient light had + been let in upon her real character. To such <i>accidents</i> duplicity is + continually subject. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. + </h2> + <p> + “Led by Simplicity divine, She pleased, and never tried to shine; She gave + to chance each unschool’d feature, And left her cause to sense and + nature.”—MORE. + </p> + <p> + Arrived at Walsingham Park, they met Miss Walsingham walking at some + distance from the house. + </p> + <p> + “Is Captain Walsingham come?” was the first question asked. “No, but + expected every hour.” + </p> + <p> + That he had not actually arrived was a comfortable reprieve to Mrs. + Beaumont. Breathing more freely, and in refreshed spirits, she prepared to + alight from her carriage, to walk to the house with Miss Walsingham, as + Mr. Palmer proposed. Miss Hunter, who was dressed with uncommon elegance, + remonstrated in favour of her delicate slippers: not that she named the + real object of her solicitude—no; she had not spent so much time + with Mrs. Beaumont, that great mistress of the art of apologizing, without + learning at least the inferior practices of the trade. Of course she had + all the little common arts of excuse ever ready: and instead of saying + that she did not like to walk because she was afraid to spoil her shoes, + she protested she was afraid of the heat, and could not walk so far. But + Mr. Beaumont had jumped out of the carriage, and Mrs. Beaumont did not + wish that he should walk home <i>tête-à-tête</i> with Miss Walsingham; + therefore Miss Hunter’s remonstrances were of no avail. + </p> + <p> + “My love, you, will not be heated, for our walk is through this charming + shady grove; and if you are tired, here’s my son will give you his arm.” + </p> + <p> + Satisfied with this arrangement, the young lady, thus supported, found it + possible to walk. Mr. Palmer walked his own pace, looking round at the + beauties of the place, and desiring that nobody might mind him. This was + his way, and Mrs. Beaumont never teased him with talking to him, when he + did not seem to be in the humour for it. She, who made something of every + thing, began to manage the conversation with her other companions during + the walk, so as to favour her views upon the several parties. Pursuing her + principle, that love is in men’s minds generally independent of esteem, + and believing that her son might be rendered afraid of the superiority of + Miss Walsingham’s understanding, Mrs. Beaumont took treacherous pains to + <i>draw her out</i>. Starting from chance seemingly, as she well knew how, + a subject of debate, she went from talking of the late marriage of some + neighbouring couple, to discuss a question on which she believed that Miss + Walsingham’s opinion would differ from that of her son. The point was, + whether a wife should or should not have pin-money. Miss Walsingham + thought that a wife’s accepting it would tend to establish a separate + interest between married people. Mr. Beaumont, on the contrary, was of + opinion, that a wife’s having a separate allowance would prevent disputes. + So Miss Hunter thought, of course, for she had been prepared to be + precisely of Mr. Beaumont’s opinion; but reasons she had none in its + support. Indeed, she said with a pretty simper, she thought that women had + nothing to do with reason or reasoning; that she thought a woman who + really loved <i>any body</i> was always of that person’s opinion; and + especially in a wife she did not see of what use reasoning and <i>all that</i> + could be, except to make a woman contradict, and be odd, and fond of + ruling: that for her part she had no pretensions to any understanding, and + if she had ever so much, she should be glad, she declared upon her honour, + to get rid of it if she could; for what use could it possibly be of to + her, when it must be the husband’s understanding that must always judge + and rule, and a wife ought only to obey, and be always of the opinion of + the man of her choice?—Having thus made her profession of folly in + broken sentences, with pretty confusion and all-becoming graces, she + leaned upon Mr. Beaumont’s arm with a bewitching air of languid delicacy, + that solicited support. Mrs. Beaumont, suppressing a sigh, which, however, + she took care that her son should hear, turned to Miss Walsingham, and, in + a whisper, owned that she could not help loving abilities, and spirit too, + even in her own sex. Then she observed aloud, that much might be urged on + her side of the question with regard to pin-money; for not only, as Miss + Walsingham justly said, it might tend to make a separate interest between + husband and wife, but the wife would probably be kept in total ignorance + of her husband’s affairs; and <i>that</i> in some cases might be very + disadvantageous, as some women are more capable, from their superior + understanding, of managing every thing than most men, indeed, than any man + she could name. + </p> + <p> + Even under favour of this pretty compliment, which was plainly directed by + a glance of Mrs. Beaumont’s eye, Miss Walsingham would not accept of this + painful pre-eminence. She explained and made it clear, that she had not + any ambition to rule or manage. + </p> + <p> + “That I can readily believe,” said Mr. Beaumont; “for I have observed, + that it is not always the women who are the most able to decide who are + the most ambitious to govern.” + </p> + <p> + This observation either was not heard or was not understood by Miss + Hunter, whose whole soul was occupied in settling some fold of her + drapery: but Mr. Beaumont’s speech had its full effect on Mrs. Beaumont, + who bit her lip, and looked reproachfully at her son, as if she thought + this an infringement of his promised truce. A moment afterwards she felt + the imprudence of her own reproachful look, and was sensible that she + would have done better not to have fixed the opinion or feeling in her + son’s mind by noticing it thus with displeasure. Recovering, herself, for + she never was disconcerted for more than half a minute, she passed on with + easy grace to discuss the merits of the heroine of some new novel—an + historic novel, which gave her opportunity of appealing to Miss Walsingham + on some disputed points of history. She dexterously attempted to draw her + <i>well-informed</i> young friend into a display of literature which might + alarm Mr. Beaumont. His education had in some respects been shamefully + neglected; for his mother had calculated that ignorance would ensure + dependence. He had endeavoured to supply, at a late period of his + education, the defects of its commencement; but he was sensible that he + had not supplied all his deficiencies, and he was apt to feel, with + painful impatient sensibility, his inferiority, whenever literary subjects + were introduced. Miss Walsingham, however, was so perfectly free from all + the affectation and vanity of a bel-esprit, that she did not alarm even + those who were inferior to her in knowledge; their self-complacency, + instead of being depressed by the comparison of their attainments with + hers, was insensibly raised, by the perception that notwithstanding these, + she could take pleasure in their conversation, could appreciate their good + sense or originality of thought, without recurring to the authority of + books, or of great names. In fact, her mind had never been overwhelmed by + a wasteful torrent of learning. That the stream of literature had passed + over, it was apparent only from its fertility. Mrs. Beaumont repented of + having drawn her into conversation. Indeed, our heroine had trusted too + much to some expressions, which had at times dropped from her son, about + <i>learned ladies</i>, and certain <i>conversaziones</i>. She had + concluded that he would never endure literature in a wife; but she now + perceived her mistake. She discerned it too late; and at this moment she + was doubly vexed, for she saw Miss Hunter <i>produce</i> herself in most + disadvantageous contrast to her rival. In conformity to instructions, + which Mrs. Beaumont had secretly given her, not to show too much sense or + learning, because gentlemen in general, and in particular Mr. Beaumont, + disliked it; this young lady now professed absolute ignorance and + incapacity upon all subjects; and meaning to have an air of pretty + childish innocence or timidity, really made herself appear quite like a + simpleton. At the same time a tinge of ineffectual malice and envy + appeared through her ill-feigned humility. She could give no opinion of + any book—oh, she would not give any judgment for the whole world! + She did not think herself qualified to speak, even if she had read the + book, which indeed she had not, for, really, she never read—she was + not a <i>reading lady</i>. + </p> + <p> + As Miss Hunter had no portion of Mrs. Beaumont’s quick penetration, she + did not see the unfavourable impression these words made: certain that she + was following exactly her secret instructions, she was confident of being + in the right line; so on she went, whilst Mrs. Beaumont sighed in vain; + and Miss Walsingham, who now saw and understood her whole play, almost + smiled at the comic of the scene. + </p> + <p> + “O dear, Mrs. Beaumont,” continued Miss Hunter, “how can you ever appeal + to me about books and those sorts of things, when you know I know nothing + about the matter? For mercy’s sake, never do so any more, for you know + I’ve no taste for those sorts of things. And besides, I own, even if I + could, I should so hate to be thought a blue-stocking—I would not + have the least bit of blue in my stockings for the whole world—I’d + rather have any other colour, black, white, red, green, yellow, any other + colour. So I own I’m not sorry I’m not what they call a genius; for though + genius to be sure’s a very fascinating sort of thing in gentlemen, yet in + women it is not so becoming, I think, especially in ladies: it does very + well on the stage, and for artists, and so on; but really now, in company, + I think it’s an awkward thing, and would make one look so odd! Now, Mr. + Beaumont, I must tell you an anecdote—” + </p> + <p> + “Stop, my dear Miss Hunter, your ear-ring is coming out. Stay! let me + clasp it, love!” exclaimed Mrs. Beaumont, determined to stop her in the + career of nonsense, by giving her sensations, since she could not give her + ideas, a new turn. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, ma’am! ma’am! Oh! my ear! you are killing me, dearest Mrs. Beaumont! + pinching me to death, ma’am!” + </p> + <p> + “Did I pinch, my dear? It was the hinge of the ear-ring, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know what it was; but here’s blood, I declare!” + </p> + <p> + “My love, I beg you a thousand pardons. How could I be so awkward! But why + could not you for one moment hold your little head still?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Walsingham applied a patch to the wound. + </p> + <p> + “Such a pretty ear as it is,” continued Mrs. Beaumont; “I am sure it was a + pity to hurt it.” + </p> + <p> + “You really did hurt it,” said Mr. Beaumont, in a tone of compassion. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, horridly!” cried Miss Hunter—“and I, that always faint at the + sight of blood!” + </p> + <p> + Afraid that the young lady would again spoil her part in the acting, and + lose all the advantages which might result from the combined effect of the + pretty ear and of compassion, Mrs. Beaumont endeavoured to take off her + attention from the wound, by attacking her ear-rings. + </p> + <p> + “My love,” said she, “don’t wear these ear-rings any more, for I assure + you there is no possibility of shutting or opening them, without hurting + you.” + </p> + <p> + This expedient, however, nearly proved fatal in its consequences. Miss + Hunter entered most warmly into the defence of her ear-rings; and appealed + to Mr. Beaumont to confirm her decision, that they were the prettiest and + best ear-rings in the world. Unluckily, they did not particularly suit his + fancy, and the young lady, who had, but half an hour before, professed + that she could never be of a different opinion in any thing from that of + the man she loved, now pettishly declared that she could not and would not + give up her taste. Incensed still more by a bow of submission, but not of + conviction, from Mr. Beaumont, she went on regardless of her dearest Mrs. + Beaumont’s frowns, and vehemently maintained her judgment, quoting, with + triumphant volubility, innumerable precedents of ladies, “who had just + bought <i>the very same</i> ear-rings, and whose taste she believed nobody + would dispute.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beaumont had seen enough, now and upon many other occasions, to be + convinced that it is not on matters of consequence that ladies are apt to + grow most angry; and he stood confirmed in his belief that those who in + theory professed to have such a humble opinion of their own abilities that + they cannot do or understand any thing useful, are often, in practice, the + most prone to insist upon the infallibility of their taste and judgment. + Mrs. Beaumont, who saw with one glance of her quick eye what passed at + this moment in her son’s mind, sighed, and said to herself—“How + impossible to manage a fool, who ravels, as fast as one weaves, the web of + her fortune!” + </p> + <p> + Yet though Mrs. Beaumont perceived and acknowledged the impracticability + of managing a fool for a single hour, it was one of the favourite objects + of her manoeuvres to obtain this very fool for a daughter-in-law, with the + hope of governing her for life. So inconsistent are cunning people, even + of the best abilities; so ill do they calculate the value of their + ultimate objects, however ingeniously they devise their means, or adapt + them to their ends. + </p> + <p> + During this walk Mr. Palmer had taken no part in the conversation; he had + seemed engrossed with his own thoughts, or occupied with observing the + beauties of the place. Tired with her walk—for Mrs. Beaumont always + complained of being fatigued when she was vexed, thus at once concealing + her vexation, and throwing the faults of her mind upon her body—she + stretched herself upon a sofa as soon as she reached the house, nor did + she recover from her exhausted state till she cast her eyes upon a + tamborine, which she knew would afford means of showing Miss Hunter’s + figure and graces to advantage. Slight as this resource may seem, Mrs. + Beaumont well knew that slighter still have often produced great effects. + Soon afterward she observed her son smile repeatedly as he read a passage + in some book that lay upon the table, and she had the curiosity to take up + the book when he turned away. She found that it was Cumberland’s Memoirs, + and saw the following little poem marked with reiterated lines of + approbation: + </p> + <pre> + “Why, Affectation, why this mock grimace? + Go, silly thing, and hide that simp’ring face. + Thy lisping prattle, and thy mincing gait, + All thy false mimic fooleries I hate; + For thou art Folly’s counterfeit, and she + Who is right foolish hath the better plea; + Nature’s true idiot I prefer to thee. + </pre> + <pre> + Why that soft languish? + Why that drawling tone? + Art sick, art sleepy? + Get thee hence: begone. + I laugh at all thy pretty baby tears, + Those flutt’rings, faintings, and unreal fears. + </pre> + <pre> + Can they deceive us? + Can such mumm’ries move, + Touch us with pity, or inspire with love? + No, Affectation, vain is all thy art! + Those eyes may wander over ev’ry part; + They’ll never find their passage to the heart.” + </pre> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont, the moment she had read these lines, perceived why her son + had smiled. The portrait seemed really to have been drawn from Miss + Hunter, and the lines were so <i>à propos</i> to the scene which had just + passed during the walk, that it was impossible to avoid the application. + Mrs. Beaumont shut the book hastily as her dear Albina approached, for she + was afraid that the young lady would have known her own picture. So few + people, however, even of those much wiser than Miss Hunter, know + themselves, that she need not have been alarmed. But she had no longer + leisure to devote her thoughts to this subject, for Mr. Walsingham, who + had been out riding, had by this time returned; and the moment he entered + the room, Mrs. Beaumont’s attention was directed to him and to Mr. Palmer. + She introduced them to each other, with many expressions of regret that + they should not sooner have met. + </p> + <p> + Characters that are free from artifice immediately coalesce, as metals + that are perfectly pure can be readily cemented together. Mr. Palmer and + Mr. Walsingham were intimate in half an hour. There was an air of openness + and sincerity about Mr. Walsingham; a freedom and directness in his + conversation, which delighted Mr. Palmer. + </p> + <p> + “I am heartily glad we have met at last, my good cousin Walsingham,” said + he: “very sorry should I have been to have left the country without + becoming acquainted with you: and now I wish your gallant captain was + arrived. I am to set off the day after to-morrow, and I am sadly afraid I + shall miss seeing him.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Walsingham said, that as they expected him every hour, he hoped Mr. + Palmer would persuade Mrs. Beaumont to spend the day at Walsingham House. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont dared not object. On the contrary, it was now her policy to + pretend the fondest friendship for all the Walsingham family: yet, all the + time, pursuing her plan of preventing Mr. Palmer from discerning their + real characters and superior merit, she managed with great dexterity to + keep the conversation as much as possible upon general topics, and tried + to prevent Mr. Palmer from being much alone with Mr. Walsingham, for she + dreaded their growing intimacy. After dinner, however, when the ladies + retired, the gentlemen drew their chairs close together, and had a great + deal of conversation on interesting subjects. The most interesting was + Captain Walsingham: Mr. Palmer earnestly desired to hear the particulars + of his history. + </p> + <p> + “And from whom,” said young Beaumont, turning to Mr. Walsingham, “can he + hear them better than from Captain Walsingham’s guardian and friend?” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. + </h2> + <pre> + <i>“Yet never seaman more serenely brave + Led Britain’s conquering squadrons o’er the wave.”</i> + </pre> + <p> + “Friends are not always the best biographers,” said Mr. Walsingham; “but I + will try to be impartial. My ward’s first desire to be a sailor was + excited, as he has often since told me, by reading Robinson Crusoe. When + he was scarcely thirteen he went out in the Resolute, a frigate, under the + command of Captain Campbell. Campbell was an excellent officer, and very + strict in all that related to order and discipline. It was his principle + and his practice never to forgive <i>a first offence</i>; by which the + number of second faults was considerably diminished. My ward was not much + pleased at first with his captain; but he was afterwards convinced that + this strictness was what made a man of him. He was buffeted about, and + shown the rough of life; made to work hard, and submit to authority. To + reason he was always ready to yield; and by degrees he learned that his + first duty as a sailor was implicit obedience. In due time he was made + lieutenant: in this situation, his mixed duties of command and obedience + were difficult, because his first-lieutenant, the captain’s son, was + jealous of him. + </p> + <p> + “Walsingham found it a more difficult task to win the confidence of the + son than it had been to earn the friendship of the father. His punctuality + in obeying orders, and his respectful manner to the lieutenant, availed + but little; for young Campbell still viewed him with scornful yet with + jealous eyes, imagining that he only wanted to show himself the better + officer. + </p> + <p> + “Of the falsehood of these suspicions Walsingham had at last an + opportunity of giving unquestionable proof. It happened one day that + Lieutenant Campbell, impatient at seeing a sailor doing some work + awkwardly on the outside of the vessel, snatched the rope from his hand, + and swore he would do it himself. In his hurry, Campbell missed his + footing, and fell overboard:—he could not swim. Walsingham had the + presence of mind to order the ship to be put about, and plunged instantly + into the water to save his rival. With much exertion he reached Campbell, + supported him till the boat was lowered down, and got him safe aboard + again.” + </p> + <p> + “Just like himself!” cried young Beaumont; “all he ever wanted was + opportunity to show his soul.” + </p> + <p> + “The first-lieutenant’s jealousy was now changed into gratitude,” + continued Mr. Walsingham; “and from this time forward, instead of + suffering from that petty rivalship by which he used to be obstructed, + Walsingham enjoyed the entire confidence of young Campbell. This good + understanding between him and his brother officer not only made their + every day lives pleasant, but in times of difficulty secured success. For + three years that they lived together after this period, and during which + time they were ordered to every quarter of the globe, they never had the + slightest dispute, either in the busiest or the idlest times. At length, + in some engagement with a Dutch ship, the particulars of which I forget, + Lieutenant Campbell was mortally wounded: his last words were—‘Walsingham, + comfort my father.’ That was no easy task. Stern as Captain Campbell + seemed, the loss of his son was irreparable. He never shed a tear when he + was told it was all over, but said, ‘God’s will be done;’ and turning into + his cabin, desired to be left alone. Half an hour afterwards he sent for + Walsingham, who found him quite calm. ‘We must see and do our duty + together to the last,’ said he. + </p> + <p> + “He exerted himself strenuously, and to all outward appearance was, as the + sailors said, the same man as ever; but Walsingham, who knew him better, + saw that his heart was broken, and that he wished for nothing but an + honourable death. One morning as he was on deck looking through his glass, + he called to Walsingham; ‘Your eyes are better than mine,’ said he; ‘look + here, and tell me, do you see yonder sail—she’s French? Le Magnanime + frigate, if I’m not mistaken. ‘Yes,’ said Walsingham, ‘I know her by the + patch in her main sail.’—‘We’ll give her something to do,’ said + Campbell, ‘though she’s so much our superior. Please God, before the sun’s + over our heads, you shall have her in tow, Walsingham.’ ‘<i>We</i> shall, + I trust,’ said Walsingham.—‘Perhaps not <i>we</i>; for I own I wish + to fall,’ said Campbell. ‘You are first-lieutenant now; I can’t leave my + men under better command, and I hope the Admiralty will give you the ship, + if you give it to his Majesty.’—Then turning to the sailors, Captain + Campbell addressed them with a countenance unusually cheerful; and, after + a few words of encouragement, gave orders to clear decks for action. + ‘Walsingham, you’ll see to every thing whilst I step down to write.’ He + wrote, as it was afterwards found, two letters, both concerning + Walsingham’s interests. The frigate with which they had to engage was + indeed far superior to them in force; but Campbell trusted to the good + order and steadiness as well as to the courage of his men. The action was + long and obstinate. Twice the English attempted to board the enemy, and + twice were repulsed. The third time, just as Captain Campbell had seized + hold of the French colours, which hung in rags over the side of the + enemy’s ship, he received a wound in his breast, fell back into + Walsingham’s arms, and almost instantly expired. The event of this day was + different from what Campbell had expected, for <i>Le Succès</i> of fifty + guns appeared in sight; and, after a desperate engagement with her, in + which Walsingham was severely wounded, and every other officer on board + killed or wounded, Walsingham saw that nothing was left but to make a + wanton sacrifice of the remainder of his crew, or to strike. + </p> + <p> + “After a contest of six hours, he struck to <i>Le Succès</i>. Perfect + silence on his deck; a loud and insulting shout from the enemy! + </p> + <p> + “No sooner had Walsingham struck, than La Force, the captain of <i>Le + Succès</i> hailed him, and ordered him to come in his own boat, and to + deliver his sword. Walsingham replied, that ‘his sword, so demanded, + should never be delivered but with his life.‘<a href="#linknote-2" + name="linknoteref-2" id="linknoteref-2"><small>2</small></a> The Frenchman + did not think proper to persist; but soon after sent his lieutenant on + board the Resolute, where the men were found at their quarters with + lighted matches in their hands, ready to be as good as their word. La + Force, the captain of <i>Le Succès</i>, was a sailor of fortune, who had + risen by chance, not merit.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay,” interrupted Mr. Palmer, “so I thought; and there was no great + merit, or glory either, in a French fifty gun taking an English frigate, + after standing a six hours’ contest with another ship. Well, my dear sir, + what became of poor Walsingham? How did this rascally Frenchman treat his + prisoners?” + </p> + <p> + “Scandalously!” cried Beaumont; “and yet Walsingham is so generous that he + will never let me damn the nation, for what he says was only the fault of + an individual, who disgraced it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, let me hear and judge for myself,” said Mr. Palmer. + </p> + <p> + “La Force carried the Resolute in triumph into a French port,” continued + Mr. Walsingham. “Vain of displaying his prisoners, he marched them up the + country, under pretence that they would not be safe in a sea-port. Cambray + was the town in which they were confined. Walsingham found the officers of + the garrison very civil to him at first; but when they saw that he was not + fond of high play, and that he declined being of their parties at + billiards and <i>vingt-un</i>, they grew tired of him; for without these + resources they declared they should perish with <i>ennui</i> in a country + town. Even under the penalty of losing all society, Walsingham resisted + every temptation to game, and submitted to live with the strictest economy + rather than to run in debt.” + </p> + <p> + “But did you never send him any money? Or did not he get your + remittances?” said Mr. Palmer. + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir, by some delays of letters, we did not hear for two months + where he was imprisoned.” + </p> + <p> + “And he was reduced to the greatest distress,” pursued Beaumont; “for he + had shared all he had, to the utmost farthing, with his poor + fellow-prisoners.” + </p> + <p> + “Like a true British sailor!” said Mr. Palmer. “Well, sir, I hope he + contrived to make his escape?” + </p> + <p> + “No, for he would not break his parole,” said Beaumont, + </p> + <p> + “His parole! I did not know he was on his parole,” said Mr. Palmer. “Then + certainly he could not break it.” + </p> + <p> + “He had two tempting opportunities, I can assure you,” said Beaumont; “one + offered by the commandant’s lady, who was not insensible to his merit; the + other, by the gratitude of some poor servant, whom he had obliged—Mr. + Walsingham can tell you all the particulars.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I need not detail the circumstances; it is enough to tell you, sir, + that he withstood the temptations, would not break his parole, and + remained four months a prisoner in Cambray. Like the officers of the + garrison, he should have drunk or gamed, or else he must have died of + vexation, he says, if he had not fortunately had a taste for reading, and + luckily procured books from a good old priest’s library. At the end of + four months the garrison of Cambray was changed; and instead of a set of + dissipated officers, there came a well-conducted regiment, under the + command of M. de Villars, an elderly officer of sense and discretion.” + </p> + <p> + “An excellent man!” cried Beaumont: “I love him with all my soul, though I + never saw him. But I beg your pardon for interrupting you, Mr. + Walsingham.” + </p> + <p> + “A prattling hairdresser at Cambray first prepossessed M. de Villars in + Walsingham’s favour, by relating a number of anecdotes intended to throw + abuse and ridicule upon the English captain, to convict him of misanthropy + and economy; of having had his hair dressed but twice since he came to + Cambray; of never having frequented the society of Madame la Marquise de + Marsillac, the late commandant’s lady, for more than a fortnight after his + arrival, and of having actually been detected in working with his own hand + with smiths’ and carpenters’ tools. Upon the strength of the hairdresser’s + information, M. de Villars paid the English captain a visit; was pleased + by his conversation, and by all that he observed of his conduct and + character. + </p> + <p> + “As M. de Villars was going down stairs, after having spent an evening + with Walsingham, a boy of twelve years old, the son of the master of the + lodging-house, equipped in a military uniform, stood across the + landing-place, as if determined to, stop him. ‘Mon petit militaire,’ said + the commandant, ‘do you mean to dispute my passage?’ ‘Non, mon général,’ + said the boy; ‘I know my duty too well. But I post myself here to demand + an audience, for I have a secret of importance to communicate.’ M. de + Villars, smiling at the boy’s air of consequence, yet pleased with the + steady earnestness of his manner, took him by the hand into an + antechamber, and said that he was ready to listen to whatever he had to + impart. The boy then told him that he had accidentally overheard a + proposal which had been made to facilitate the English captain’s escape, + and that the captain refused to comply with it, because it was not + honourable to break his parole. The boy, who had been struck by the + circumstance, and who, besides, was grateful to Walsingham for some little + instances of kindness, spoke with much enthusiasm in his favour; and, as + M. de Villars afterwards repeated, finished his speech by exclaiming, ‘I + would give every thing I have in the world, except my sword and my honour, + to procure this English captain his liberty.’ + </p> + <p> + “M. de Villars was pleased with the boy’s manner, and with the fact which + he related; so much so, that he promised, that if Walsingham’s liberty + could be obtained he would procure it. ‘And you, my good little friend, + shall, if I succeed,’ added he, ‘have the pleasure of being the first to + tell him the good news.’ + </p> + <p> + “Some days afterwards, the boy burst into Walsingham’s room, exclaiming, + ‘Liberty! liberty! you are at liberty!’—He danced and capered with + such wild joy, that it was some time before Walsingham could obtain any + explanation, or could prevail on him to let him look at a letter which he + held in his hand, flourishing it about in triumph. At last he showed that + it was an order from M. de Villars, for the release of Captain Walsingham, + and of all the English prisoners, belonging to the Resolute, for whom + exchanges had been effected. No favour could be granted in a manner more + honourable to all the parties concerned. Walsingham arrived in England + without any farther difficulties.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank God!” said Mr. Palmer. “Well, now he has touched English ground + again, I have some hopes for him. What next?” + </p> + <p> + “The first thing he did, of course, was to announce his return to the + Admiralty. A court-martial was held at Portsmouth; and, fortunately for + him, was composed of officers of the highest distinction, so that the + first men in his profession became thoroughly acquainted with the + circumstances of his conduct. The enthusiasm with which his men bore + testimony in his favour was gratifying to his feelings, and the minutes of + the evidence were most honourable to him. The court pronounced, that + Lieutenant Walsingham had done all that could be effected by the most + gallant and judicious officer in the defence of His Majesty’s ship + Resolute. The ministry who had employed Captain Campbell were no longer in + place, and one of the Lords of the Admiralty at this time happened to have + had some personal quarrel with him. A few days after the trial, Walsingham + was at a public dinner, at which Campbell’s character became the subject + of conversation. Walsingham was warned, in a whisper, that the first Lord + of the Admiralty’s private secretary was present, and was advised to be <i>prudent</i>; + but Walsingham’s prudence was not of that sort which can coolly hear a + worthy man’s memory damned with faint praise; his prudence was not of that + sort which can tamely sit by and see a friend’s reputation in danger. With + all the warmth and eloquence of friendship, he spoke in Captain Campbell’s + defence, and paid a just and energetic tribute of praise to his memory. He + spoke, and not a word more was said against Campbell. The politicians + looked down upon their plates; and there was a pause of that sort, which + sometimes in a company of interested men of the world results from + surprise at the imprudent honesty of a good-natured novice. Walsingham, as + the company soon afterwards broke up, heard one gentleman say of him to + another, as they went away, ‘There’s a fellow now, who has ruined himself + without knowing it, and all for a dead man.’ It was not without knowing + it: Walsingham was well aware what he hazarded, but he was then, and ever, + ready to sacrifice his own interests in the defence of truth and of a + friend. For two long years afterwards, Walsingham was, in the technical + and elegant phrase, <i>left on the shelf, and the door of promotion was + shut against him.”</i> + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and there he might have remained till now,” said Beaumont, “if it + had not been for that good Mr. Gaspar, a clerk in one of their offices; a + man who, though used to live among courtiers and people hackneyed in the + political ways of the world, was a plain, warm-hearted friend, a man of an + upright character, who prized integrity and generosity the more because he + met with them so seldom. But I beg your pardon, Mr. Walsingham; will you + go on and tell Mr. Palmer how and why Gaspar served our friend?” + </p> + <p> + “One day Walsingham had occasion to go to Mr. Gaspar’s office to search + for some papers relative to certain charts which he had drawn, and + intended to present to the Admiralty. In talking of the soundings of some + bay he had taken whilst out with Captain Campbell, he mentioned him, as he + always did, with terms of affection and respect. Mr. Gaspar immediately + asked, ‘Are you, sir, that Lieutenant Walsingham, of the Resolute, who at + a public dinner about two years ago made such a disinterested defence of + your captain? If it is in my power to serve you, depend upon it I will. + Leave your charts with me; I think I may have an opportunity of turning + them to your advantage, and that of the service.’ Gaspar, who was + thoroughly in earnest, took a happy moment to present Walsingham’s charts + before the Admiralty, just at a time when they were wanted. The Admiralty + were glad to employ an officer who had some local information, and they + sent him out in the Dreadnought, a thirty-six gun frigate, with Captain + Jemmison, to the West Indies.” + </p> + <p> + “And what sort of a man was his new captain?” said Mr. Palmer. + </p> + <p> + “As unlike his old one as possible,” said Beaumont. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” continued Mr. Walsingham; “in every point, except courage, Captain + Jemmison was as complete a contrast as could be imagined to Captain + Campbell. Whatever else he might be, Jemmison was certainly a man of + undaunted courage.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s of course, if he was a captain in the British navy,” said Mr. + Palmer. + </p> + <p> + “From his appearance, however, you would never have taken him for a + gallant sailor,” said Mr. Walsingham: “abhorring the rough, brutal, + swearing, grog-drinking, tobacco-chewing, race of sea-officers, the Bens + and the Mirvans of former times, Captain Jemmison, resolving, I suppose, + to avoid their faults, went into the contrary extreme of refinement and + effeminacy. A superlative coxcomb, and an epicure more from fashion than + taste, he gloried in descanting, with technical precision, on the merits + of dishes and of cooks. His table, even on shipboard, was to be equalled + in elegance only by his toilet.” + </p> + <p> + “The puppy!” exclaimed Mr. Palmer. “And how could Captain Walsingham go on + with such a coxcomb?” + </p> + <p> + “Very ill, you may be sure,” said Beaumont; “for Walsingham, I’ll answer + for it, never could conceal or control his feelings of contempt or + indignation.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet, as Captain Jemmison’s lieutenant, he always behaved with perfect + propriety,” said Mr. Walsingham, “and bore with his foppery and + impertinence with the patience becoming a subordinate officer to his + superior. Jemmison could not endure a lieutenant whose character and + manners were a continual contrast and reproach to his own, and he disliked + him the more because he could never provoke him to any disrespect. + Jemmison often replied even to Walsingham’s silent contempt; as a French + pamphleteer once published a book entitled, <i>Réponse au Silence de M. de + la Motte</i>. On some points, where duty and principle were concerned, + Walsingham, however, could not be silent. There was a lad of the name of + Birch on board the Dreadnought, whom Walsingham had taken under his + immediate care, and whom he was endeavouring to train up in every good + habit. Jemmison, to torment Walsingham, made it his pleasure to counteract + him in these endeavours, and continually did all he could to spoil Birch + by foolish indulgence. Walsingham’s indignation was upon these occasions + vehement, and his captain and he came to frequent quarrels. Young Birch, + who had sense enough to know which was his true friend, one day threw + himself on his knees to beseech his lieutenant not to hazard so much on + his account, and solemnly swore that he would never be guilty of the + slightest excess or negligence during the remainder of the voyage. The + young man was steady to his promise, and by his resolution and temper + prevented Walsingham and his captain from coming to a serious rupture. + When they arrived at their place of destination, Jamaica, Captain Jemmison + went on shore to divert himself, and spent his time in great dissipation + at Spanish Town, eating, dressing, dancing, gallanting, and glorying in + its being observed by all the ladies that he had nothing of a sea-captain + about him. The other officers, encouraged by his precept and example, left + the ship; but Walsingham stayed on board, and had severe duty to perform, + for he could not allow the crew to go on shore, because they got into + riots with the townspeople. Soon after their arrival, and even during the + course of their voyage, he had observed among the sailors something like a + disposition to mutiny, encouraged probably by the negligence and apparent + effeminacy of their captain. Though they knew him to be a man of + intrepidity, yet they ridiculed and despised his coxcombry, and his + relaxation of discipline gave them hopes of succeeding in their mutinous + schemes. Walsingham strongly and repeatedly represented to Captain + Jemmison the danger, and remonstrated with him and the other officers upon + the imprudence of leaving the ship at this juncture; but Jemmison, in a + prettily rounded period, protested he saw no penumbra of danger, and that + till he was called upon by Mars, he owned he preferred the charms of + Venus. + </p> + <p> + “This was vastly elegant; but, nevertheless, it happened one night, when + the captain, after having eaten an admirable supper, was paying his court + to a Creole lady of Spanish Town, news was brought him, that the crew of + the Dreadnought had mutinied, and that Lieutenant Walsingham was killed. + One half of the report was true, and the other nearly so. At midnight, + after having been exhausted during the preceding week by his vigilance, + Walsingham had just thrown himself into his cot, when he was roused by + Birch at his cabin-door, crying, ‘A mutiny! a mutiny on deck!’—Walsingham + seized his drawn cutlass, and ran up the ladder, determined to cut down + the ringleader; but just as he reached the top, the sailors shut down the + hatchway, which struck his head with such violence, that he fell, stunned, + and, to all appearance, dead. Birch contrived, in the midst of the bustle, + before he was himself seized by the mutineers, to convey, by signals to + shore, news of what had happened. But Captain Jemmison could now be of no + use. Before he could take any measures to prevent them, the mutineers + weighed anchor, and the Dreadnought, under a brisk breeze, was out of the + bay; all the other vessels in the harbour taking it for granted that her + captain was on board, and that she was sailing under orders. In the mean + time, whilst Walsingham was senseless, the sailors stowed him into his + cabin, and set a guard over him. The ringleader, Jefferies, a revengeful + villain, who bore malice against him for some just punishment, wanted to + murder him, but the rest would not consent. Some would not dip their hands + in blood; others pleaded for him, and said that he was never cruel. One + man urged, that the lieutenant had been kind to him when he was sick. + Another suggested, that it would be well to keep him alive to manage the + ship for them, in case of difficulties. Conscious of their ignorance, they + acceded to this advice; Jefferies’ proposal to murder him was overruled: + and it was agreed to keep Walsingham close prisoner till they should need + his assistance. He had his timekeeper and log-book locked up with him, + which were totally forgotten by these miscreants. Never seaman prayed more + fervently for fair weather than Walsingham now did for a storm. At last, + one night he heard (and he says it was one of the pleasantest sounds he + ever heard in his life) the wind rising. Soon it blew a storm. He heard + one of the sailors say—‘A stiff gale, Jack!’ and another—‘An + ugly night!’ Presently, great noise on deck, and the pumps at work. Every + moment he now expected a deputation from the mutineers. The first person + he saw was the carpenter, who came in to knock in the dead lights in the + cabin windows. The man was surly, and would give no answer to any + questions; but Walsingham knew, by the hurry of his work, that the fellow + thought there was no time to be lost. Twice, before he could finish what + he was about, messages came from <i>Captain Jefferies,</i> to order him to + something else. Then a violent crash above from the fall of a mast; and + then he heard one cry—‘I’ll be cursed if I should care, if we did + but know where-abouts we are.’ Then all was in such uproar, that no voices + could be distinguished. At last his cabin-door unlocked, and many voices + called upon him at once to come upon deck that instant and save the ship. + Walsingham absolutely refused to do any thing for them till they returned + to their duty, delivered up to him their arms, and their ringleader, + Jefferies. At this answer they stood aghast. Some tried entreaties, some + threats: all in vain. Walsingham coolly said, he would go to the bottom + along with the ship rather than say a word to save them, till they + submitted. The storm blew stronger—the danger every moment + increasing. One of the mutineers came with a drawn cutlass, another + levelled a blunderbuss at Walsingham, swearing to despatch him that + instant, if he would not tell them where they were. ‘Murder me, and you + will be hanged; persist in your mutiny, you’ll be drowned,’ said + Walsingham. ‘You’ll never make me swerve from my duty—and you know + it—you have my answer.’ The enraged sailors seized him in their + arms, and carried him by force upon deck, where the sight of the danger, + and the cries of ‘Throw him overboard!—over with him!’ only seemed + to fortify his resolution. Not a word, not a sign could they get from him. + The rudder was now unshipped! At this the sailors’ fury turned suddenly + upon Jefferies, who between terror and ignorance was utterly + incapacitated. They seized, bound, gave him up to Walsingham, returned to + their duty; and then, and not till then, Walsingham resumed his command. + Walsingham’s voice, once more heard, inspired confidence, and with the + hopes revived the exertions of the sailors. I am not seaman enough to tell + you how the ship was saved; but that it was saved, and saved by + Walsingham, is certain. I remember only, that he made the ship manageable + by some contrivance, which he substituted in the place of the rudder that + had been unshipped. The storm abating, he made for the first port, to + repair the ship’s damages, intending to return to Jamaica, to deliver her + up to her captain; but, from a vessel they spoke at sea, he learned that + Jemmison was gone to England in a merchantman. To England then Walsingham + prepared to follow.” + </p> + <p> + “And with this rebel crew!” cried Beaumont; “think, Mr. Palmer, what a + situation he was in, knowing, as he did, that every rascal of them would + sooner go to the devil than go home, where they knew they must be tried + for their mutiny.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, well!” said Mr. Palmer. “Did they run away with the ship a + second time? or how did he manage?” + </p> + <p> + He called them all one morning together on deck; and pointing to the place + where the gunpowder was kept, he said—‘I have means of blowing up + the ship. If ever you attempt to mutiny again, the first finger you lay + upon me, I blow her up instantly.’ They had found him to be a man of + resolution. They kept to their duty. Not a symptom of disobedience during + the rest of the voyage. In their passage they fell in with an enemy’s + ship, far superior to them in force. ‘There, my lads!’ said Walsingham, + ‘if you have a mind to earn your pardons, there’s your best chance. Take + her home with you to your captain and your king.’ A loud cheer was their + answer. They fought like devils to redeem themselves. Walsingham—but + without stopping to make his panegyric, I need only tell you, that + Walsingham’s conduct and intrepidity were this time crowned with success. + He took the enemy’s ship, and carried it in triumph into Portsmouth. + Jemmison was on the platform when they came in; and what a mortifying + sight it was to him, and what a proud hour to Walsingham, you may imagine! + Having delivered the Dreadnought and her prize over to his captain, the + next thing to be thought of was the trial of the mutineers. All except + Jefferies obtained a pardon, in consideration of their return to duty, and + their subsequent services. Jefferies was hanged at the yard-arm. The trial + of the mutineers brought on, as Jemmison foresaw it must, many + animadversions on his own conduct. Powerful connexions, and his friends in + place, silenced, as much as possible, the public voice. Jemmison gave + excellent dinners, and endeavoured to drown the whole affair in his choice + Champagne and <i>London particular Madeira</i>; so his health, and success + to the British navy, was drunk in bumper toasts. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay, they think to do every thing now in England by dinners, and + bumper toasts, and three times three,” said Mr. Palmer. + </p> + <p> + “But it did not do in this instance,” said Beaumont, in a tone of + exultation: “it did not do.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” continued Mr. Walsingham; “though Jemmison’s dinners went down + vastly well with a party, they did not satisfy the public. The opposition + papers grew clamorous, and the business was taken up so strongly, and it + raised such a cry against the ministry, that they were obliged to bring + Jemmison to a court-martial.” + </p> + <p> + “The puppy! I’m glad of it, with all my soul. And how did he look then?” + said Mr. Palmer. + </p> + <p> + “Vastly like a gentleman; that was all that even his friends could say for + him. The person he was most afraid of on the trial was Walsingham. In this + apprehension he was confirmed by certain of his friends, who had attempted + to sound Walsingham as to the nature of the evidence he intended to give. + They all reported, that they could draw nothing out of him, and that he + was an impracticable fellow; for his constant answer was, that his + evidence should be given in court, and nowhere else.” + </p> + <p> + “Even to his most intimate friends,” interrupted Mr. Beaumont, “even to + me, who was in the house with him all the time the trial was going on, he + did not tell what his evidence would be.” + </p> + <p> + “When the day of trial came,” pursued Mr. Walsingham—— + </p> + <p> + “Don’t forget Admiral Dashleigh,” said Mr. Beaumont. + </p> + <p> + “No; who can forget him that knows him?” said Walsingham: “a warm, + generous friend, open-hearted as he is brave—he came to Captain + Walsingham the day before the court-martial was to sit. ‘I know, + Walsingham, you don’t like my cousin Jemmison (said he), nor do I much, + for he is a puppy, and I never could like a puppy, related to me or not; + be that as it may, you’ll do him justice, I’m sure; for though he is a + puppy he is a brave fellow—and here, for party purposes, they have + raised a cry of his being a coward, and want to shoot him <i>pour + encourager les autres</i>. What you say will damn or save him; and I have + too good an opinion of you to think that any old grudge, though you might + have cause for it, would stand in his way.’ Walsingham answered as usual, + that his opinion and his evidence would be known on the day of trial. + Dashleigh went away very ill-satisfied, and persuaded that Walsingham + harboured revenge against his relation. At last, when he was called upon + in court, Walsingham’s conduct was both just and generous; for though his + answers spoke the exact truth, yet he brought forward nothing to the + disadvantage of Jemmison, but what truth compelled him to state, and in + his captain’s favour; on the contrary, he spoke so strongly of his + intrepidity, and of the gallant actions which in former instances he had + performed in the service, as quite to efface the recollection of his + foppery and epicurism, and, as much as possible, to excuse his negligence. + Walsingham’s evidence absolutely confuted the unjust charge or suspicion + of cowardice that had been raised against Jemmison; and made such an + impression in his favour, that, instead of being dismissed the service, or + even having his ship taken from him, as was expected, Jemmison got off + with a reprimand.” + </p> + <p> + “Which I am sure he well deserved,” said Mr. Palmer. + </p> + <p> + “But certainly Walsingham was right not to let him be run down by a + popular cry, especially as he had used him ill,” said Mr. Beaumont. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well!—I don’t care about the puppy,” cried Mr. Palmer; “only + go on.” + </p> + <p> + “No sooner was the trial over, and the sentence of the court made known, + than Admiral Dashleigh, full of joy, admiration, and gratitude, pushed his + way towards Walsingham, and stretching out his hand, exclaimed—‘Shake + hands, Walsingham, and forgive me, or I can’t forgive myself. I suspected + you yesterday morning of bearing malice against that coxcomb, who deserved + to be laughed at, but not to be shot. By Jove, Walsingham, you’re an + honest fellow, I find.’ ‘And have you but just found that out, admiral?’ + said Walsingham, with a proud smile. ‘Harkee, my lad,’ said Dashleigh, + calling after him, ‘remember, I’m <i>your</i> friend, at all events.—Take + it as you will, I’ll make you mine yet, before I’ve done with you.’ + Walsingham knew that at this time Admiral Dashleigh’s friends were in + power, and that Dashleigh himself had great influence with the Admiralty; + and he probably treated the admiral thus haughtily, to show that he had no + interested views or hopes. Dashleigh understood this, for he now + comprehended Walsingham’s character perfectly. Immediately after the + trial, Walsingham was made commander, in consequence of his having saved + the Dreadnought, and his having taken l’Ambuscade. With this appointment + Dashleigh had nothing to do. But he never ceased exerting himself, + employing all the interest of his high connexions, and all the personal + influence of his great abilities, to have Walsingham made post, and to get + him a ship. He succeeded at last; but he never gave the least hint that it + was done by his interest; for, he said, he knew that Walsingham had such + nice notions, and was such a proud principled fellow, that he would not + enjoy his promotion, if he thought he owed it to any thing upon earth but + his own merit. So a handsome letter was written by the secretary of the + Admiralty to Captain Walsingham, by their lordships’ desire, informing + him, ‘that in consideration of his services and merit, his majesty had + been pleased to make him post-captain, and to appoint him to the command + of l’Ambuscade (the prize he took), which would be sent out on the first + occasion.’ The secretary ‘begged leave to add expressions of his private + satisfaction on an appointment so likely to be advantageous to the + public,’ &c. In short, it was all done so properly and so plausibly, + that even Walsingham never suspected any secret influence, nor did he find + out the part Dashleigh had taken in the business till several months + afterwards, when a <i>discreet</i> friend mentioned it by accident.” + </p> + <p> + “I was that discreet friend,” said Mr. Beaumont. + </p> + <p> + “Well, all this is very good, but there’s no love in this Story,” said Mr. + Palmer. “I hope your hero is not too proud to fall in love?” + </p> + <p> + “Too proud!—We are told, you know, that the greatest hero, in the + intervals of war, resigned + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘To tender passions all his mighty mind.’” + </pre> + <p> + “Tender passions!—Captain Walsingham is in love, then, hey?” said + Mr. Palmer. “And may I ask—Bless me! I shall be very sorry if it is + with any body but—may I ask to whom he is attached?” + </p> + <p> + “That is a question that I am not quite at liberty perhaps to answer,” + said Mr. Walsingham. “During the interval between his return in the + Dreadnought and his being appointed to l’Ambuscade, an interval of about + eighteen months, which he spent in the country here with me, he had time + to become thoroughly acquainted with a very amiable young lady—” + </p> + <p> + “A very amiable young lady! and in this neighbourhood?” interrupted Mr. + Palmer; “it must be the very person I mean, the very person I wish.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not ask me any more,” said Mr. Walsingham; “for my friend never + declared his attachment, and I have no right to declare it for him. He was + not, at the time I speak of, in circumstances to marry; therefore he + honourably concealed, or rather suppressed, his passion, resolving not to + attempt to engage the young lady’s affections till he should have made a + fortune sufficient to support her in her own rank in life.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, now, that’s all done, thank Heaven!” cried Palmer: “he has fortune + enough now, or we can help him out, you know. This is excellent, + excellent!—Come, is it not time for us to go to the ladies? I’m + impatient to tell this to Mrs. Beaumont.” + </p> + <p> + “Stay, my good Mr. Palmer,” said Mr. Walsingham. “What are you going to + do?” + </p> + <p> + “Let me alone, let me alone—I’ll only tell what I guess—depend + upon it, I guess right—and it may do a great deal of good to tell it + to Mrs. Beaumont, and it will give her a great deal of pleasure—trust + me—trust me.” + </p> + <p> + “I do trust <i>you</i>—but perhaps you may be mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all, not at all, depend upon it; so let me go to her this minute.” + </p> + <p> + “But stop, my dear sir,” cried Mr. Beaumont, “stop for another reason; let + me beg you to sit down again—I am not clear that Captain Walsingham + is not at this instant in love with—perhaps, as it is reported, + married to a Spanish lady, whom he has carried off out of a convent at + ——, and whom I understand he is bringing home with him.” + </p> + <p> + “Heyday! a Spanish lady!” said Mr. Palmer, returning slowly to his seat + with a fallen countenance. “How’s this?—By St. George, this is + unlucky! But how’s this, I say?” + </p> + <p> + “You did not let us finish our story,” said Mr. Beaumont, “or we should + have told you.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me hear the end of it now,” said Mr. Palmer, sitting down again, and + preparing himself with several pinches of snuff. But just at this instant + a servant came to say that coffee was ready. + </p> + <p> + “I will never stir from this spot for coffee or any thing else,” said Mr. + Palmer, “till I know the history of the Spanish lady.” + </p> + <p> + “Then the shortest and best way I have of telling it to you is, to beg you + to read this letter, which contains all I know of the matter,” said Mr. + Beaumont. “This letter is from young Birch to his parents; we have never + heard a syllable directly from Walsingham himself on this subject. Since + he reached Lisbon, we have had no letters from him, except that short + epistle which brought us an account of his taking the treasure-ship. But + we shall see him soon, and know the truth of this story; and hear whether + he prefers his Spanish or his English mistress.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Fore George! I wish this Spanish woman had stayed in her convent,” said + Mr. Palmer; “I don’t like runaway ladies. But let us see what this letter + says for her.” + </p> + <p> + The letter is the same that Mr. Beaumont read some time ago, therefore it + need not here be inserted. Before Mr. Palmer had finished perusing it, a + second message came to say that the ladies waited tea, and that Mrs. + Beaumont wished not to be late going home, as there was no moon. Mr. + Palmer, nevertheless, finished the letter before he stirred: and then, + with a heavy sigh, he rose and said, “I now wish, more than ever, that our + captain would come home this night, before I go, and clear up this + business. I don’t like this Spanish plot, this double intrigue. Ah, dear + me!—I shall be obliged to sail—I shall be in Jamaica before + the fifth act.” + </p> + <p> + “How expectation loads the wings of time!” exclaimed Mrs. Beaumont, as the + gentlemen entered the drawing-room. “Here we have been all day expecting + our dear Captain Walsingham, and the time has seemed so long!—The + only time I ever found long in this house.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to know,” said Mr. Walsingham, after a bow of due + acknowledgment to Mrs. Beaumont for her compliment, “I should like to know + whether time appears to pass more slowly to those that hope, or those that + fear?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont handed coffee to Mr. Palmer, without attempting to answer + this question. + </p> + <p> + “To those that hope, I should think,” said Mr. Palmer; “for hope long + deferred maketh the heart sick; and time, I can answer for it, passes most + slowly to those who are sick.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “‘Slow as the year’s dull circle seems to run, + When the brisk minor pants for twenty-one,’” + </pre> + <p> + said Mr. Walsingham, smiling, as he looked at young Beaumont. “But I think + it is the mixture of fear with hope that makes time appear to pass + slowly.” + </p> + <p> + “And is hope ever free from that mixture?” said Miss Walsingham. “Does not + hope without fear become certainty, and fear without hope despair? Can + hope ever be perfectly free from some mixture of fear?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear me! yes, to be sure,” said Miss Hunter; “for hope’s the most + opposite thing that ever was to fear; as different as black and white; <i>for</i>, + surely, every body knows that hope is just the contrary to fear; and when + one says, <i>I hope</i>, one does not ever mean <i>I fear</i>—surely, + you know, Mrs. Beaumont?” + </p> + <p> + “I am the worst metaphysician in the world,” said Mrs. Beaumont; “I have + not head enough to analyze my heart.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor I neither,” said Miss Hunter: “Heigho!” (very audibly.) + </p> + <p> + “Hark!” cried Mr. Beaumont, “I think I hear a horse galloping. It is he! + it is Walsingham!” + </p> + <p> + Out ran Beaumont, full speed, to meet his friend; whilst, with, more sober + joy, Mr. Walsingham waited on the steps, where all the company assembled, + Mr. Palmer foremost, with a face full of benevolent pleasure; Mrs. + Beaumont congratulating every body, but nobody listening to her; luckily + for her, all were too heartily occupied with their own feelings to see how + ill her countenance suited her words. The sound of the galloping of the + horse ceased for a minute—then recommenced; but before it could be + settled whether it was coming nearer or going farther away, Mr. Beaumont + returned with a note in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Not Walsingham—only Birch—confound him!” said Mr. Beaumont, + out of breath. “Confound him, what a race I took, and how disappointed I + was when I saw Birch’s face; and yet it is no fault of his, poor lad!” + </p> + <p> + “But why did not he come up to the house? Why did not you let us see him?” + said Mr. Walsingham. + </p> + <p> + “I could not keep him, he was in such a hurry to go home to his father and + mother, he would only stop to give this note.” + </p> + <p> + “From Walsingham? Read, quick.” + </p> + <p> + “Plymouth, 5 o’clock, A.M. just landed. + </p> + <p> + “Dear friends, I cannot have the pleasure of seeing you, as I had hoped to + do, this day—I am obliged to go to London instantly on business that + must not be delayed—Cannot tell when I can be with you—hope in + a few days—Well and happy, and ever yours, H. WALSINGHAM.” + </p> + <p> + All stood silent with looks of disappointment, except Mrs. Beaumont, who + reiterated, “What a pity! What a sad pity! What a disappointment! What a + terrible disappointment!” + </p> + <p> + “Business!” said Mr. Beaumont: “curse his business! he should think of his + friends first.” + </p> + <p> + “Most likely his business is for his friends,” said Miss Walsingham. + </p> + <p> + “That’s right, my dear little defender of the absent,” said Mr. + Walsingham. + </p> + <p> + “Business!” repeated Mr. Palmer. “Hum! I like business better than + pleasure—I will be patient, if it is really business that keeps him + away from us.” + </p> + <p> + “Depend upon it,” said Miss Walsingham, “nothing but business can keep him + away from us; his pleasure is always at home.” + </p> + <p> + “I am thinking,” said Mr. Palmer, drawing Mr. Walsingham aside, “I am + thinking whether he has really brought this Spanish lady home with him, + and what will become of her—of—him, I mean. I wish I was not + going to Jamaica!” + </p> + <p> + “Then, my dear sir, where is the necessity of your going?” + </p> + <p> + “My health—my health—the physicians say I cannot live in + England.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Walsingham, who had but little faith in physicians, laughed, and + exclaimed, “But, my dear sir, when you see so many men alive in England at + this instant, why should you believe in the impossibility of your living + even in this pestiferous country?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Palmer half smiled, felt for his snuff-box, and then replied, “I am + sure I should like to live in England, if my health would let me; but,” + continued he, his face growing longer, and taking the hypochondriac cast + as he pronounced the word, “<i>but, </i>Mr. Walsingham, you don’t consider + that my health is really—really—” + </p> + <p> + “Really very good, I see,” interrupted Mr. Walsingham, “and I am heartily + glad to see it.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir! sir! you do not see it, I assure you. I have a great opinion of your + judgment, but as you are not a physician—” + </p> + <p> + “And because I have not taken out my diploma, you think I can neither see + nor understand,” interrupted Mr. Walsingham. “But, nevertheless, give me + leave to feel your pulse.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you really understand a pulse?” said Mr. Palmer, baring his wrist, and + sighing. + </p> + <p> + “As good a pulse as ever man had,” pronounced Mr. Walsingham. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t say so? why the physicians tell me—” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind what they tell you—if they told you the <i>truth</i>, + they’d tell you they want fees.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont, quite startled by the tremendously loud voice in which Mr. + Walsingham pronounced the word <i>truth</i>, rose, and rang the bell for + her carriage. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Palmer,” said she, “I am afraid we must run away, for I dread the + night air for invalids.” + </p> + <p> + “My good madam, I am at your orders,” answered Mr. Palmer, buttoning + himself up to the chin. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Beaumont, surely you don’t think this gentleman an invalid?” said + Mr. Walsingham. + </p> + <p> + “I only wish he would not think himself such,” replied Mrs. Beaumont. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! my dear friends,” said Mr. Palmer, “I really am, I certainly am a sad—sad—” + </p> + <p> + “Hypochondriac,” said Mr. Walsingham. “Pardon me—you are indeed, and + every body is afraid to tell you so but myself.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont anxiously looked out of the window to see if her carriage + was come to the door. + </p> + <p> + “Hypochondriac! not in the least, my dear sir,” said Mr. Palmer. “If you + were to hear what Dr. —— and Dr. —— say of my + case, and your own Dr. Wheeler here, who has a great reputation too—shall + I tell you what he says?” + </p> + <p> + In a low voice, Mr. Palmer, holding Mr. Walsingham by the button, + proceeded to recapitulate some of Dr. Wheeler’s prognostics; and at every + pause, Mr. Walsingham turned impatiently, so as almost to twist off the + detaining button, repeating, in the words of the king of Prussia to his + physician, “<i>C’est un âne! C’est un âne! C’est un âne!</i>”—“Pshaw! + I don’t understand French,” cried Mr. Palmer, angrily. His warmth obliged + him to think of unbuttoning his coat, which operation (after stretching + his neckcloth to remove an uneasy feeling in his throat) he was + commencing, when Mrs. Beaumont graciously stopped his hand. + </p> + <p> + “The carriage is at the door, my dear sir:—instead of unbuttoning + your coat, had not you better put this cambric handkerchief round your + throat before we go into the cold air?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Palmer put it on, as if in defiance of Mr. Walsingham, and followed + Mrs. Beaumont, who led him off in triumph. Before he reached the + carriage-door, however, his anger had spent its harmless force; and + stopping to shake hands with him, Mr. Palmer said, “My good Mr. + Walsingham, I am obliged to you. I am sure you wish me well, and I thank + you for speaking so freely; I love honest friends—but as to my being + a hypochondriac, believe me, you are mistaken!” + </p> + <p> + “And as to Dr. Wheeler,” said Mrs. Beaumont, as she drew up the glass of + the carriage, and as they drove from the door, “Dr. Wheeler certainly does + not deserve to be called <i>un âne,</i> for he is a man of whose medical + judgment I have the highest opinion. Though I am sure I am very candid to + acknowledge it in the present case, when his opinion is so much against my + wishes, and all our wishes, and must, I fear, deprive us so soon of the + company of our dear Mr. Palmer.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, I must go, I must go to Jamaica,” said Mr. Palmer in a more + determined tone than he had yet spoken on the subject. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont silently rejoiced; and as her son imprudently went on + arguing in favour of his own wishes, she leaned back in the carriage, and + gave herself up to a pleasing reverie, in which she anticipated the + successful completion of all her schemes. Relieved from the apprehension + that Captain Walsingham’s arrival might disconcert her projects, she was + now still further re-assured by Mr. Palmer’s resolution to sail + immediately. One day more, and she was safe. Let Mr. Palmer but sail + without seeing Captain Walsingham, and this was all Mrs. Beaumont asked of + fortune; the rest her own genius would obtain. She was so absorbed in + thought, that she did not know she was come home, till the carriage + stopped at her door. Sometimes, indeed, her reverie had been interrupted + by Mr. Palmer’s praises of the Walsinghams, and by a conversation which + she heard going on about Captain Walsingham’s life and adventures: but + Captain Walsingham was safe in London; and whilst he was at that distance, + she could bear to hear his eulogium. Having lamented that she had been + deprived of her dear Amelia all this day, and having arranged her plan of + operations for the morrow, Mrs. Beaumont retired to rest. And even in + dreams her genius invented fresh expedients, wrote notes of apology, or + made speeches of circumvention. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. + </h2> + <p> + “And now, as oft in some distempered state, On one nice trick depends the + general fate.”—POPE. + </p> + <p> + That old politician, the cardinal of Lorraine, used to say, that “a lie + believed but for one hour doth many times in a nation produce effects of + seven years’ continuance.” At this rate what wonderful effects might our + heroine have produced, had she practised in public life, instead of + confining her genius to family politics! The game seemed now in her own + hands. The day, the important day, on which all her accounts with her son + were to be settled; the day when Mr. Palmer’s will was to be signed, the + last day he was to stay in England, arrived. Mr. Beaumont’s birthday, his + coming of age, was of course hailed with every possible demonstration of + joy. The village bells rang, the tenants were invited to a dinner and a + dance, and an ox was to be roasted whole; and the preparations for + rejoicing were heard all over the house. Mr. Palmer’s benevolent heart was + ever ready to take a share in the pleasures of his fellow-creatures, + especially in the festivities of the lower classes. He appeared this + morning in high good humour. Mrs. Beaumont, with a smile on her lips, yet + with a brow of care, was considering how she could make pleasure + subservient to interest, and how she could get <i>business</i> done in the + midst of the amusements of the day. Most auspiciously did her day of + business begin by Mr. Palmer’s declaring to her that his will was actually + made; that with the exception of certain legacies, he had left his whole + fortune to her during her life, with remainder to her son and daughter. + “By this arrangement,” continued he, “I trust I shall ultimately serve my + good friends the Walsinghams, as I wish: for though I have not seen as + much of that family as I should have been glad to have done, yet the + little I have seen convinces me that they are worthy people.” + </p> + <p> + “The most worthy people upon earth. You know I have the greatest regard + for them,” said Mrs. Beaumont. + </p> + <p> + “I am really sorry,” pursued Mr. Palmer, “that I have not been able to + make acquaintance with Captain Walsingham. Mr. Walsingham told me his + whole history yesterday, and it has prepossessed me much in his favour.” + </p> + <p> + “He is, indeed, a charming, noble-hearted young hero,” said Mrs. Beaumont; + “and I regret, as much as you do, that you cannot see him before you leave + England.” + </p> + <p> + “However,” continued Mr. Palmer, “as I was saying, the Walsinghams will, I + trust, be the better sooner or later by me; for I think I foresee that + Captain Walsingham, if a certain Spanish lady were out of the question, + would propose for Amelia, and would persuade her to give up this foolish + fancy of hers for that baronet.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont shook her head, as if she believed this could not possibly + be done. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, if it can’t be, it can’t. The girl’s inclination must not be + controlled. I don’t wonder, however, that you are vexed at missing such a + husband for her as young Walsingham. But, my good madam, we must make the + best of it—let the girl marry her baronet. I have left a legacy of + some thousands to Captain Walsingham, as a token of my esteem for his + character; and I am sure, my dear Mrs. Beaumont, his interests are in good + hands when I leave them in yours. In the mean time, I wish you, as the + representative of my late good friend, Colonel Beaumont, to enjoy all I + have during your life.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont poured forth such a profusion of kind and grateful + expressions, that Mr. Palmer was quite disconcerted. “No more of this, my + dear madam, no more of this. But there was something I was going to say, + that has gone out of my head. Oh, it was, that the Walsinghams will, I + think, stand a good chance of being the better for me in another way.” + </p> + <p> + “How?” + </p> + <p> + “Why you have seen so much more of them than I have—don’t you, my + dear madam, see that Miss Walsingham has made a conquest of your son? I + thought I was remarkably slow at seeing these things, and yet I saw it.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Walsingham is a prodigious favourite of mine. But you know Edward is + so young, and men don’t like, now-a-days, to marry young,” said Mrs. + Beaumont. + </p> + <p> + “Well, let them manage their affairs their own way,” said Mr. Palmer; “all + I wish upon earth is to see them happy, or rather to hear of their + happiness, for I shall not see it you know in Jamaica.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” said Mrs. Beaumont, in a most affectionate tone, and with a sigh + that seemed to come from her heart; “alas! that is such a melancholy + thought.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Palmer ended the conversation by inquiring whom he had best ask to + witness his will. Mrs. Beaumont proposed Captain Lightbody and Dr. + Wheeler. The doctor was luckily in the house, for he had been sent for + this morning, to see her poor Amelia, who had caught cold yesterday, and + had a slight feverish complaint. + </p> + <p> + This was perfectly true. The anxiety that Amelia had suffered of late—the + fear of being forced or ensnared to marry a man she disliked—apprehensions + about the Spanish incognita, and at last the certainty that Captain + Walsingham would not arrive before Mr. Palmer should have left England, + and that consequently the hopes she had formed from this benevolent + friend’s interference were vain—all these things had overpowered + Amelia; she had passed a feverish night, and was really ill. Mrs. Beaumont + at any other time would have been much alarmed; for, duplicity out of the + question, she was a fond mother: but she now was well contented that her + daughter should have a day’s confinement to her room, for the sake of + keeping her safe out of the way. So leaving poor Amelia to her feverish + thoughts, we proceed with the business of the day. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Wheeler, Captain Lightbody, and Mr. Twigg witnessed the will; it was + executed, and a copy of it deposited with Mrs. Beaumont. This was one + great point gained. The next object was her jointure. She had employed her + convenient tame man<a href="#linknote-3" name="linknoteref-3" + id="linknoteref-3"><small>3</small></a>, Captain Lightbody, humbly to + suggest to her son, that some increase of jointure would be proper; and + she was now in anxiety to know how these hints, and others which had been + made by more remote means, would operate. As she was waiting to see Mr. + Lightbody in her dressing-room, to hear the result of his <i>suggestions</i>, + the door opened. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Lightbody! come in—what success?” + </p> + <p> + She stopped short, for it was not Captain Lightbody, it was her son. + Without taking any notice of what she said, he advanced towards her, and + presented a deed. + </p> + <p> + “You will do me the favour, mother, to accept of this addition to your + jointure,” said he. “It was always my intention to do this, the moment it + should be in my power; and I had flattered myself that you would not have + thought it necessary to suggest to me what I knew I ought to do, or to + hint to me your wishes by any intermediate person.” + </p> + <p> + Colouring deeply, for it hurt her conscience to be found out, Mrs. + Beaumont was upon the point of disavowing her emissary, but she + recollected that the words which she had used when her son was coming into + the room might have betrayed her. On the other hand, it was not certain + that he had heard them. She hesitated. From the shame of a disavowal, + which would have answered no purpose, but to sink her lower in her son’s + opinion, she was, however, saved by his abrupt sincerity. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t say any thing more about it, dear mother,” cried he, “but pardon me + the pain I have given you at a time when indeed I wished only to give + pleasure. Promise me, that in future you will let me know your wishes + directly, and from your own lips.” + </p> + <p> + “Undoubtedly—depend upon it, my dearest son. I am quite overpowered. + The fact was, that I could not, however really and urgently necessary it + was to me, bring myself to mention with my own lips what, as a direct + request from me, I knew you could not and would not refuse, however + inconvenient it might be to you to comply. On this account, and on this + account only, I wished you not to know my wants from myself, but from an + intermediate friend.” + </p> + <p> + “Friend!”—Mr. Beaumont could not help repeating with an emphasis of + disdain. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Friend</i>, I only said by courtesy; but I wished you to know my wants + from an intermediate person, that you might not feel yourself in any way + bound, or called upon, and that the refusal might be implied and tacit, as + it were, so that it could lead to no unpleasant feelings between us.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! my dear mother,” said Mr. Beaumont, “I have not your knowledge of the + world, or of human nature; but from all I have heard, seen, and felt, I am + convinced that more unpleasant feelings are created in families, by these + false delicacies, and managements, and hints, and go-between friends by + courtesy, than ever would have been caused by the parties speaking + directly to one another, and telling the plain truth about their thoughts + and wishes. Forgive me if I speak too plainly at this moment; as we are to + live together, I hope, many years, it may spare us many an unhappy hour.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont wiped her eyes. Her son found it difficult to go on, and + yet, upon his own principles, it was right to proceed. + </p> + <p> + “Amelia, ma’am! I find she is ill this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—poor child!” + </p> + <p> + “I hope, mother—” + </p> + <p> + “Since,” interrupted Mrs. Beaumont, “my dear son wishes always to hear + from me the plain and direct truth, I must tell him, that, as the guardian + of his sister, I think myself accountable to no one for my conduct with + respect to her; and that I should look upon any interference as an unkind + and unjustifiable doubt of my affection for my daughter. Rest satisfied + with this assurance, that her happiness is, in all I do, my first object; + and as I have told her a thousand times, no force shall be put on her + inclinations.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no more to say, no more to ask,” said Mr. Beaumont. “This is a + distinct, positive declaration, in which I will confide, and, in future, + not suffer appearances to alarm me. A mother would not keep the word of + promise to the ear, and break it to the hope.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont, feeling herself change countenance, made an attempt to blow + her nose, and succeeded in hiding her face with her handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + “With respect to myself,” continued Mr. Beaumont, “I should also say, lest + you should be in any doubt concerning my sentiments, that though I have + complied with your request to delay for a few weeks—” + </p> + <p> + “<i>That</i> you need not repeat, my dear,” interrupted Mrs. Beaumont. “I + understand all that perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + “Then at the end of this month I shall—and, I hope, with your entire + approbation, propose for Miss Walsingham.” + </p> + <p> + “Time enough,” said Mrs. Beaumont, smiling, and tapping her son playfully + on the shoulder, “time enough to talk of that when the end of the month + comes. How often have I seen young men like you change their minds, and + fall in and out of love in the course of one short month! At any rate,” + continued Mrs. Beaumont, “let us pass to the order of the day; for we have + time enough to settle other matters; but the order of the day—a + tiresome one, I confess—is to settle accounts.” + </p> + <p> + “I am ready—” + </p> + <p> + “So am I.” + </p> + <p> + “Then let us go with the accounts to Mr. Palmer, who is also ready, I am + sure.” + </p> + <p> + “But, before we go,” said Mrs. Beaumont, whispering, “let us settle what + is to be said about the debts—<i>your</i> debts you know. I fancy + you’ll agree with me, that the less is said about this the better; and + that, in short, the best will be to say nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Why so, madam? Surely you don’t think I mean to conceal my debts from our + friend Mr. Palmer, at the very moment when I profess to tell him all my + affairs, and to settle accounts with him and you, as my guardians!” + </p> + <p> + “With him? But he has never acted, you know, as one of the guardians; + therefore you are not called upon to settle accounts with him.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why, ma’am, did you urge him to come down from London, to be present + at the settlement of these accounts?” + </p> + <p> + “As a compliment, and because I wish him to be present, as your father’s + friend; but it is by no means essential that he should know every detail.” + </p> + <p> + “I will do whichever you please, ma’am; I will either settle accounts with + or without him.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! <i>with</i> him, that is, in his presence, to be sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Then he must know the whole.” + </p> + <p> + “Why so? Your having contracted such debts will alter his opinion of your + prudence and of mine, and may, perhaps, essentially alter—alter—” + </p> + <p> + “His will? Be it so; that is the worst that can happen. As far as I am + concerned, I would rather a thousand times it were so, than deceive him + into a better opinion of me than I deserve.” + </p> + <p> + “Nobly said! so like yourself, and like every thing I could wish: but, + forgive me, if I did for you, what indeed I would not wish you to do for + yourself. I have already told Mr. Palmer that you had no embarrassments; + therefore, you cannot, and I am sure would not, unsay what I have said.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beaumont stood fixed in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “But why, mother, did not you tell him the whole?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear love, delicacy prevented me. He offered to relieve you from any + embarrassments, if you had any; but I, having too much delicacy and pride + to let my son put himself under pecuniary obligations, hastily answered, + that you had no debts; for there was no other reply to be made, without + offending poor Palmer, and hurting his generous feelings, which I would + not do for the universe: and I considered too, that as all Palmer’s + fortune will come to us in the end—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, ma’am,” interrupted Mr. Beaumont, impatient of all these glosses + and excuses, “the plain state of the case is, that I cannot contradict + what my mother has said; therefore I will not settle accounts at all with + Mr. Palmer.” + </p> + <p> + “And what excuse <i>can</i> I make to him, after sending for him express + from London?” + </p> + <p> + “That I must leave to you, mother.” + </p> + <p> + “And what reason <i>can</i> I give for thus withdrawing our + family-confidence from such an old friend, and at the very moment when he + is doing so much for us all?” + </p> + <p> + “That I must leave to you, mother. I withdraw no confidence. I have + pretended none—I will break none.” + </p> + <p> + “Good Heavens! was not all I did and said for <i>your</i> interest?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing can be for my interest that is not for my honour, and for yours, + mother. But let us never go over the business again. Now to the order of + the day.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear, dear son,” said Mrs. Beaumont, “don’t speak so roughly, so + cruelly to me.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly softened, by seeing the tears standing in his mother’s eyes, he + besought her pardon for the bluntness of his manner, and expressed his + entire belief in her affection and zeal for his interests; but, on the + main point, that he would not deceive Mr. Palmer, or directly or + indirectly assert a falsehood, Mr. Beaumont was immoveable. In the midst + of her entreaties a message came from Mr. Palmer, to say that he was + waiting for the accounts, which Mrs. Beaumont wished to settle. “Well,” + said she, much perplexed, “well, come down to him—come, for it is + impossible for me to find any excuse after sending for him from London; he + would think there was something worse than there really is. Stay—I’ll + go down first, and sound him; and if it won’t do without the accounts, do + you come when I ring the bell; then all I have for it is to run my chance. + Perhaps he may never recollect what passed about your debts, for the dear + good old soul has not the best memory in the world; and if he should + obstinately remember, why, after all, it’s only a bit of false delicacy, + and a white lie for a friend and a son, and we can colour it.” + </p> + <p> + Down went Mrs. Beaumont to sound Mr. Palmer; but though much might be + expected from her address, yet she found it unequal to the task of + convincing this gentleman’s plain good sense that it would fatigue him to + see those accounts, which he came so many miles on purpose to settle. + Perceiving him begin to waken to the suspicion that she had some interest + in suppressing the accounts, and hearing him, in an altered tone, ask, + “Madam, is there any mystery in these accounts, that I must not see them?” + she instantly rang the bell, and answered, “Oh, none; none in the world; + only we thought—that is, I feared it might fatigue you too much, my + dear friend, just the day before your journey, and I was unwilling to lose + so many hours of your good company; but since you are so very kind—here’s + my son and the papers.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. + </h2> + <pre> + “A face untaught to feign; a judging eye, + That darts severe upon a rising lie, + And strikes a blush through frontless flattery.” + </pre> + <p> + To the settlement of accounts they sat down in due form; and it so + happened, that though this dear good old soul had not the best memory in + the world, yet he had an obstinate recollection of every word Mrs. + Beaumont had said about her son’s having no debts or embarrassments. And + great and unmanageable was his astonishment, when the truth came to light. + “It is not,” said he, turning to Mr. Beaumont, “that I am astonished at + your having debts; I am sorry for that, to be sure; but young men are + often a little extravagant or so, and I dare say—particularly as you + are so candid and make no excuses about it—I dare say you will be + more prudent in future, and give up the race-horses as you promise. But—why + did not Madam Beaumont tell me the truth? Why make a mystery, when I + wanted nothing but to serve my friends? It was not using me well—it + was not using yourself well. Madam, madam, I am vexed to the heart, and + would not for a thousand pounds—ay, fool as I am, not for ten + thousand pounds, this had happened to me from my good friend the colonel’s + widow—a man that would as soon have cut his hand off. Oh, madam! + Madam Beaumont! you have struck me a hard blow at my time of life. Any + thing but this I could have borne; but to have one’s confidence and old + friendships shaken at my time of life!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont was, in her turn, in unfeigned astonishment; for Mr. Palmer + took the matter more seriously, and seemed more hurt by this discovery of + a trifling deviation from truth, than she had foreseen, or than she could + have conceived to be possible, in a case where neither his interest nor + any one of his passions was concerned. It was in vain that she palliated + and explained, and talked of delicacy, and generosity, and pride, and + maternal feelings, and the feelings of a friend, and all manner of fine + and double-refined sentiments; still Mr. Palmer’s sturdy plain sense could + not be made to comprehend that a falsehood is not a falsehood, or that + deceiving a friend is using him well. Her son suffered for her, as his + countenance and his painful and abashed silence plainly showed. + </p> + <p> + “And does not even my son say any thing for me? Is this friendly?” said + she, unable to enter into his feelings, and thinking that the part of a + friend was to make apologies, right or wrong.—Mr. Palmer shook hands + with Mr. Beaumont, and, without uttering a syllable, they understood one + another perfectly. Mr. Beaumont left the room; and Mrs. Beaumont burst + into tears. Mr. Palmer, with great good-nature, tried to assuage that + shame and compunction which he imagined that she felt. He observed, that, + to be sure, she must feel mortified and vexed with herself, but that he + was persuaded nothing but some mistaken notion of delicacy could have led + her to do what her principles must condemn. Immediately she said all that + she saw would please Mr. Palmer; and following the lead of his mind, she + at last confirmed him in the opinion, that this was an accidental not an + habitual deviation from truth. His confidence in her was broken, but not + utterly destroyed. + </p> + <p> + “As to the debt,” resumed Mr. Palmer, “do not let that give you a moment’s + concern; I will put that out of the question in a few minutes. My share in + the cargo of the Anne, which I see is just safely arrived in the Downs, + will more than pay this debt. Your son shall enter upon his estate + unencumbered. No, no—don’t thank me; I won’t cheat you of your + thanks; it is your son must thank me for this. I do it on his account. I + like the young man. There is an ingenuousness, an honourable frankness + about him, that I love. Instead of his bond for the money, I shall ask his + promise never to have any thing more to do with race-horses or Newmarket; + and his promise I shall think as good as if it were his bond. Now I am not + throwing money away; I’m not doing an idle ostentatious thing, but one + that may, and I hope will, be essentially useful. For, look you here, my + good—look here, Mrs. Beaumont: a youth who finds himself encumbered + with debt on coming to his estate is apt to think of freeing himself by + marrying a fortune instead of a woman; now instead of freeing a man, this + fetters him for life: and what sort of a friend must that be, who, if he + could prevent it, would let this be done for a few thousand pounds? So + I’ll go before I take another pinch of snuff, and draw him an order upon + the cargo of the Anne, lest I should forget it in the hurry of packing and + taking leave, and all those uncomfortable things.” + </p> + <p> + He left <i>Madam</i> Beaumont to her feelings, or her reflections; and, in + a few minutes, with an order for the money in his hand, went over the + house in search of his young friend. Mr. Beaumont came out of his sister’s + room on hearing himself called. + </p> + <p> + “Here,” said Mr. Palmer, “is a little business for you to do. Read this + order over; see that it is right, and endorse it—mind—and + never let me hear one word more about it—only by way of + acknowledgment—ask your mother what you are to give me. But don’t + read it till you are out of my sight—Is Amelia up? Can I see her?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; up and in her dressing-room. Do, dear sir, go in and see her, for my + mother says she is too feverish to leave her room to-day; but I am sure + that it will make her ten times worse to be prevented from seeing you the + last day you are with us.” + </p> + <p> + “Does the little gipsy then care so much for me?—that’s fair; for I + am her friend, and will prove it to her, by giving up my own fancies to + hers: so trust me with her, <i>tête-à-tête</i>,—young gentleman; go + off, if you please, and do your own business.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Palmer knocked at Amelia’s door, and fancying he heard an answer of + admittance, went in. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mr. Palmer, my good Mr. Palmer, is it you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but you seem not above half to know whether you are glad or sorry to + see your good Mr. Palmer; for while you hold out your hand, you turn away + your face from me.—Dear, dear! what a burning hand, and how the + pulse goes and flutters! What does Dr. Wheeler say to this? I am a bit of + a physician myself—let me look at you. What’s this? eyes as red as + ferret’s—begging your eyes’ pardon, young lady—What’s this + about? Come,” said he, drawing a chair and sitting down close beside her, + “no mysteries—no mysteries—I hate mysteries—besides, we + have not time for them. Consider, I go to-morrow, and have all my shirts + to pack up: ay, smile, lady, as your father used to do; and open your + whole heart to me, as he always did. Consider me as an old friend.” + </p> + <p> + “I do consider you as a sincere, excellent friend,” said Amelia; “but—” + Amelia knew that she could not explain herself without disobeying, and + perhaps betraying, her mother. + </p> + <p> + “No <i>buts</i>,” said Mr. Palmer, taking hold of her hand. “Come, my + little Amelia, before you have put that ring on and off your pretty finger + fifty times more, tell me whom you would wish to put a ring on this finger + for life?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that is the thing <i>I cannot</i> tell you!” said Amelia. “Were I + alone concerned, I would tell you every thing; but—ask me no more, I + cannot tell you the whole truth.” + </p> + <p> + “Then there’s something wrong somewhere or other. Whenever people tell me + they cannot speak the truth, I always say, then there’s something wrong. + Give me leave, Amelia, to ask—” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t question me,” said Amelia: “talk to my mother. I don’t know how I + ought to answer you.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Not know how!</i> ‘Fore George! this is strange! A strange house, + where one can’t get at the simplest truth without a world of difficulty—mother + and daughter all alike; not one of ‘em but the son can, for the soul of + ‘em, give a plain answer to a plain question. <i>Not know how!</i> as if + it was a science to tell the truth. Not know how! as if a person could not + talk to me, honest old Richard Palmer, without <i>knowing how!</i> as if + it was how to baffle a lawyer on a cross-examination—<i>Not know how</i> + to answer one’s own friend! Ah! this is not the way your father and I used + to go on, Miss Beaumont. Nay, nay, don’t cry now, or that will finish + oversetting the little temper I have left, for I can’t bear to see a woman + cry, especially a young woman like you; it breaks my heart, old as it is, + and fool that I am, that ought to know your sex better by this time than + to let a few tears drown my common sense. Well, young lady, be that as it + may, since you won’t tell me your mind, I must tell you your mind, for I + happen to know it—Yes, I do—your mother bid me spare your + delicacy, and I would, but that I have not time; besides, I don’t + understand, nor see what good is got, but a great deal of mischief, by + these cursed new-fashioned delicacies: wherefore, in plain English, I tell + you, I don’t like Sir John Hunter, and I do like Captain Walsingham; and I + did wish you married to Captain Walsingham—you need not start so, + for I say <i>did</i>—I don’t wish it now; for since your heart is + set upon Sir John Hunter, God forbid I should want to give Captain + Walsingham a wife without a heart. So I have only to add, that + notwithstanding my own fancy or judgment, I have done my best to persuade + your mother to let you have the man, or the baronet, of your choice. I + will go farther: I’ll make it a point with her, and bring you both + together; for there’s no other way, I see, of understanding you; and get a + promise of her consent; and then I hope I shall leave you all satisfied, + and without any mysteries. And, in the mean time,” added Mr. Palmer, + taking out of his coat pocket a morocco leather case, and throwing it down + on the table before Amelia, “every body should be made happy their own + way: there are some diamonds for Lady Hunter, and God bless you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir, stay!” cried Amelia, rising eagerly; “dear, good Mr. Palmer, + keep your diamonds, and leave me your esteem and love.” + </p> + <p> + “That I can’t, unless you speak openly to me. It is out of nature. Don’t + kneel—don’t. God bless you! young lady, you have my pity; for + indeed,” turning and looking at her, “you seem very miserable, and look + very sincere.” + </p> + <p> + “If my mother was here!—I <i>must</i> see my mother,” exclaimed + Amelia. + </p> + <p> + “Where’s the difficulty? I’ll go for her this instant,” said Mr. Palmer, + who was not a man to let a romance trail on to six volumes for want of + going six yards; or for want of somebody’s coming into a room at the right + minute for explanation; or from some of those trivial causes by which + adepts contrive to delude us at the very moment of expectation. Whilst Mr. + Palmer was going for Mrs. Beaumont, Amelia waited in terrible anxiety. The + door was open; and as she looked into the gallery which led to her room, + she saw Mr. Palmer and her mother as they came along, talking together. + Knowing every symptom of suppressed passion in her mother’s countenance, + she was quite terrified, by indications which passed unnoticed by Mr. + Palmer. As her mother approached, Amelia hid her face in her hands for a + moment, but gaining courage from the consciousness of integrity, and from + a determination to act openly, she looked up; and, rising with dignity, + said, in a gentle but firm voice—“Mother, I hope you will not think + that there is any impropriety in my speaking to our friend, Mr. Palmer, + with the same openness with which I have always spoken to you?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear child,” interrupted Mrs. Beaumont, embracing Amelia with a sudden + change of manner and countenance, “my sweet child, I have tried you to the + utmost; forgive me; all your trials now are over, and you must allow me + the pleasure of telling our excellent friend, Mr. Palmer, what I know will + delight him almost as much as it delights me—that the choice of + Amelia’s heart, Mr. Palmer, is worthy of her, just what we all wished.” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Walsingham?” exclaimed Mr. Palmer, with joyful astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, my love,” said Mrs. Beaumont, seating Amelia, who, from the + surprise at this sudden change in her mother, and from the confusion of + feelings which overwhelmed her at this moment, was near fainting: “we are + too much for her, I have been too abrupt,” continued Mrs. Beaumont: “Open + the window, will you, my good sir? and,” whispering, “let us not say any + more to her at present; you see it won’t do.” + </p> + <p> + “I am well, quite well again, now,” said Amelia, exerting herself. “Don’t + leave, don’t forsake me, Mr. Palmer; pray don’t go,” holding out her hand + to Mr. Palmer. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Amelia,” said Mrs. Beaumont, “don’t talk, don’t exert yourself; + pray lie still on the sofa.” + </p> + <p> + “Her colour is come back; she looks like herself again,” said Mr. Palmer, + seating himself beside her, regardless of Mrs. Beaumont’s prohibitory + looks. “Since my little Amelia wished me to stay, I’ll not go. So, my + child—but I won’t hurry you—only want one sign of the head to + confirm the truth of what your mother has just told me, for nobody can + tell what passes in a young lady’s heart but herself. So then, it is not + that sprig of quality, that selfish spendthrift, that Sir John Hunter, who + has your heart—hey?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, no,” answered Amelia; “I never did, I never could like such a + man!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I thought not—I thought it was impossible; but—” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont, alarmed beyond conception, suddenly put her hand before Mr. + Palmer’s mouth, to prevent him from finishing his sentence, and exposing + the whole of her shameful duplicity to her daughter. + </p> + <p> + “Absolutely I must, and do hereby interpose my maternal authority, and + forbid all agitating explanations whilst Amelia is in her present state. + Dr. Wheeler says she is terribly feverish. Come, Mr. Palmer, I must carry + you off by force, and from me you shall have all the explanations and all + the satisfaction you can require.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Palmer, “good bye for the present, my little Amelia, my + darling little Amelia! I am so delighted to find that Captain Walsingham’s + the man, and so glad you have no mysteries: be well, be well soon. I am so + pleased, so happy, that I am as unruly as a child, and as easily managed. + You see, how I let myself be turned out of the room.” + </p> + <p> + “Not turned out, only carried out,” said Mrs. Beaumont, who never, even in + the most imminent perils, lost her polite presence of mind. Having thus + carried off Mr. Palmer, she was in hopes that, in the joyful confusion of + his mind, he would he easily satisfied with any plausible explanation. + Therefore she dexterously fixed his attention on the future, and adverted + as slightly as possible to the past. + </p> + <p> + “Now, my good sir, congratulate me,” said she, “on the prospect I have of + happiness in such a son-in-law as Captain Walsingham, if it be indeed true + that Captain Walsingham is really attached to Amelia. But, on the other + hand, what shall we do if there is any truth in the story of the Spanish + lady? Oh, there’s the difficulty! Between hope and fear, I am in such a + distracted state at this moment, I hardly know what I say. What shall we + do about the Spanish lady?” + </p> + <p> + “Do, my dear madam! we can do nothing at all in that case: but I will hope + the best, and you’ll see that he will prove a constant man at last. In the + mean time, how was all that about Sir John Hunter, and what are you to do + with him?” + </p> + <p> + “Leave that to me; I will settle all that,” cried Mrs. Beaumont. + </p> + <p> + “But I hope the poor man, though I don’t like him, has not been jilted?” + </p> + <p> + “No, by no means; Amelia’s incapable of that. You know she told you just + now that she never liked him.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay; but I think, madam, you told me, that she <i>did</i>,” said Mr. + Palmer, sticking to his point with a decided plainness, which quite + disconcerted Mrs. Beaumont. + </p> + <p> + “It was all a mistake,” said she, “quite a mistake; and I am sure you + rejoice with me that it was so: and, as to the rest—past blunders, + like past misfortunes, are good for nothing but to be forgotten.” + </p> + <p> + Observing that Mr. Palmer looked dissatisfied, Mrs. Beaumont continued + apologizing. “I confess you have to all appearance some cause to be angry + with me,” said she: “but now only hear me. Taking the blame upon myself, + let me candidly tell you the whole truth, and all my reasons, foolish + perhaps as they were. Captain Walsingham behaved so honourably, and had + such command over his feelings, that I, who am really the most credulous + creature in the world, was so completely deceived, that I fancied he never + had a thought of Amelia, and that he never would think of her; and I own + this roused both my pride and my prudence for my daughter; and I certainly + thought it my duty, as her mother, to do every thing in my power to + discourage in her young and innocent heart a hopeless passion. It was but + within these few hours that I have been undeceived by you as to his + sentiments. That, of course, made an immediate change, as you have seen, + in my measures; for such is my high opinion of the young man, and indeed + my desire to be connected with the Walsinghams is so great, that even + whilst I am in total ignorance of what the amount or value may be of this + prize that he has taken, and even whilst I am in doubt concerning this + Spanish incognita, I have not hesitated to declare, perhaps imprudently, + to Amelia, as you have just heard, my full approbation of the choice of + her heart.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum!—well—hey!—How’s this?” said Mr. Palmer to himself, + as he tried to believe and to be satisfied with this apology. “Madam,” + said he aloud to Mrs. Beaumont, “I comprehend that it might not be prudent + to encourage Amelia’s partiality for Captain Walsingham till you were sure + of the young man’s sentiments; but, excuse me, I am a very slow, + unpractised man in these matters; I don’t yet understand why you told <i>me</i> + that she was in love with Sir John Hunter?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont, being <i>somewhat in the habit of self-contradiction</i>, + was seldom unprovided with a concordance of excuses; but at this unlucky + moment she was found unprepared. Hesitating she stood, all subtle as she + was, deprived of ready wit, and actually abashed in the presence of a + plain good man. + </p> + <p> + “I candidly confess, my dear sir,” said she, apologizing to Mr. Palmer as + he walked up and down, “that my delicacy or pride,—call it what you + will,—my false pride for my daughter, led me into an error. I could + not bring myself to acknowledge to any man, even to you—for you know + that it’s contrary quite to the principles and pride of our sex—that + she felt any partiality for a man who had shown none for her. You must be + sensible it was, to say no more, an awkward, mortifying thing; and I was + so afraid even of your finding it out, that—forgive me—I did, + I candidly acknowledge, fabricate the foolish story of Sir John Hunter. + But, believe me, I never seriously thought of her marrying him.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Fore George! I don’t understand one word of it from beginning to end,” + said Mr. Palmer, speaking aloud to himself. + </p> + <p> + Regardless of the profusion of words which Mrs. Beaumont continued pouring + forth, he seated himself in an arm-chair, and, deep in reverie for some + minutes, went on slowly striking his hands together, as he leaned with his + arms on his knees. At length he rose, rang the bell, and said to the + servant, “Sir, be so obliging as to let my man Crichton know that he need + not hurry himself to pack up my clothes, for I shall not go to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + Struck with consternation at these words, Mrs. Beaumont, nevertheless, + commanded the proper expression of joy on the occasion. “Delightful! I + must go this instant,” cried she, “and be the first to tell this charming + news to Amelia and Edward.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell them, then, madam, if you please, that I have gained such a conquest + over what Mr. Walsingham calls my hypochondriacism, that I am determined, + at whatever risk, to stay another year in Old England, and that I hope to + be present at both their weddings.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont’s quick exit was at this moment necessary to conceal her + dismay. Instead of going to Amelia, she hurried to her own room, locked + the door, and sat down to compose her feelings and to collect her + thoughts; but scarcely had she been two minutes in her apartment, when a + messenger came to summon her to the festive scene in the park. The tenants + and villagers were all at dinner, and Mr. Beaumont sent to let her know + that they were waiting to drink her health. She was obliged to go, and to + appear all radiant with pleasure. The contrast between their honest mirth + and her secret sufferings was great. She escaped as soon as she could from + their <i>senseless</i> joy, and again shut herself up in her own room. + </p> + <p> + This sudden and totally unexpected resolution of Mr. Palmer’s so + astonished her, that she could scarcely believe she had heard or + understood his words rightly. Artful persons may, perhaps, calculate with + expertness and accuracy what will, in any given case, be the + determinations of the selfish and the interested; but they are liable to + frequent mistakes in judging of the open-hearted and the generous: there + is no sympathy to guide them, and all their habits tend to mislead them in + forming opinions of the direct and sincere. It had never entered into Mrs. + Beaumont’s imagination that Mr. Palmer would, notwithstanding his belief + that he hazarded his life by so doing, defer a whole year returning to + Jamaica, merely to secure the happiness of her son and daughter. She + plainly saw that he now suspected her dislike to the Walsinghams, and her + aversion to the double union with that family: she saw that the slightest + circumstance in her conduct, which confirmed his suspicions, would not + only utterly ruin her in his opinion, but might induce him to alter that + part of his will which left her sole possessor of his fortune during her + life. Bad as her affairs were at this moment, she knew that they might + still be worse. She recollected the letter of <i>perfect approbation</i> + which Sir John Hunter had in his power. She foresaw that he would produce + this letter on the first rumour of her favouring another lover for Amelia. + She had just declared to Mr. Palmer, that she never seriously thought of + Sir John Hunter for her daughter; and, should this letter be brought to + light, she must be irremediably convicted of the basest duplicity, and + there would be no escape from the shame of falsehood, or rather the + disgrace of detection. In this grand difficulty, Mrs. Beaumont was too + good a politician to waste time upon any inferior considerations. Instead + of allowing herself leisure to reflect that all her present difficulties + arose from her habits of insincerity, she, with the true spirit of + intrigue, attributed her disappointments to some deficiency of artifice. + “Oh!” said she to herself, “why did I <i>write?</i> I should only have <i>spoken</i> + to Sir John. How could I be so imprudent as to <i>commit</i> myself by + writing? But what can be done to repair this error?” + </p> + <p> + One web destroyed, she, with indefatigable subtlety, began to weave + another. With that promptitude of invention which practice alone can give, + she devised a scheme, by which she hoped not only to prevent Sir John + Hunter from producing the written proof of her duplicity, but by which she + could also secure the reversionary title, and the great Wigram estate. The + nature of the scheme shall be unfolded in the next chapter; and it will + doubtless procure for Mrs. Beaumont, from all proper judges, a just + tribute of admiration. They will allow our heroine to be possessed not + only of that address, which is the peculiar glory of female politicians, + but also of that masculine quality, which the greatest, wisest, of mankind + has pronounced to be the first, second, and third requisite for business—“Boldness—boldness—boldness.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. + </h2> + <p> + “The creature’s at her dirty work again.”—POPE. + </p> + <p> + Amongst the infinite petty points of cunning of which that great practical + philosopher Bacon has in vain essayed to make out a list, he notes that, + “Because it worketh better when any thing seemeth to be gotten from you by + question than if you offer it of yourself: you may lay a bait for a + question, by showing another visage and countenance than you are wont, to + the end to give occasion to the party to ask what the matter is of the + change.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter, my dearest Mrs. Beaumont? I never saw you look so sad + before in all my life,” said Miss Hunter, meeting Mrs. Beaumont, who had + walked out into the park on purpose to be so met, and in hopes of having + the melancholy of her countenance thus observed. It was the more striking, + and the more unseasonable, from its contrast with the gay scene in the + park. The sound of music was heard, and the dancing had begun, and all was + rural festivity: “What is the matter, my dearest Mrs. Beaumont?” repeated + Miss Hunter; “at such a time as this to see you look so melancholy!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! my love! such a sad change in affairs! But,” whispered Mrs. Beaumont, + “I cannot explain myself before your companion.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lightbody was walking with Miss Hunter: but he was so complaisant, + that he was easily despatched on some convenient errand; and then Mrs. + Beaumont, with all her wonted delicacy of circumlocution, began to + communicate her distress to her young friend. + </p> + <p> + “You know, my beloved Albina,” said she, “it has been my most ardent wish + that your brother should be connected with my family by the nearest and + dearest ties.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; that is, married to Amelia,” said Miss Hunter. “And has any thing + happened to prevent it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my dear! it is all over! It cannot be—must not be thought of—must + not be spoken of any more; Mr. Palmer has been outrageous about it. Such a + scene as I have had! and all to no purpose. Amelia has won him over to her + party. Only conceive what I felt—she declared, beyond redemption, + her preference of Captain Walsingham.” + </p> + <p> + “Before the captain proposed for her! How odd! dear! Suppose he should + never propose for her, what a way she will be in after affronting my + brother and all! And only think! she gives up the title, and the great + Wigram estate, and every thing. Why, my brother says, uncle Wigram can’t + live three months; and Lord Puckeridge’s title, too, will come to my + brother, you know; and Amelia might have been Lady Puckeridge. Only think! + did you ever know any thing so foolish?” + </p> + <p> + “Never!” said Mrs. Beaumont; “but you know, my dear, so few girls have the + sense you show in taking advice: they all will judge for themselves. But + I’m most hurt by Amelia’s want of gratitude and delicacy towards <i>me</i>,” + continued Mrs. Beaumont; “only conceive the difficulty and distress in + which she has left me about your poor brother. Such a shock as the + disappointment will be to him! And he may—though Heaven knows how + little I deserve it—he may suspect—for men, when they are + vexed and angry, will, you know, suspect even their best friends; he + might, I say, suspect me of not being warm in his cause.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear, no! I have always told him how kind you were, and how much you + wished the thing; and of all people in the world he can’t blame you, + dearest Mrs. Beaumont.” + </p> + <p> + At this instant Mrs. Beaumont saw a glimpse of somebody in a bye-path of + the shrubbery near them. “Hush! Take care! Who is that lurking there? Some + listener! Who can it be?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Hunter applied her glass to her eye, but could not make out who it + was. + </p> + <p> + “It is Lightbody, I declare,” said Mrs. Beaumont. “Softly,—let us + not pretend to see him, and watch what he will do. It is of the greatest + consequence to me to know whether he is a listener or not; so much as he + is about the house.” + </p> + <p> + An irresistible fit of giggling, which seized Miss Hunter at the odd way + in which Lightbody walked, prevented Mrs. Beaumont’s trial of his + curiosity. At the noise which the young lady made, Mr. Lightbody turned + his head, and immediately advancing, with his accustomed mixture of + effrontery and servility, said, that “he had executed Mrs. Beaumont’s + commands, and that he had returned in hopes of getting a moment to say a + word to her when she was at leisure, about something he had just learned + from Mr. Palmer’s man Crichton, which it was of consequence she should + know without delay.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, thank you, you best of creatures; but I know all that already.” + </p> + <p> + “You know that Mr. Palmer does not go to-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; and am so rejoiced at it! Do, my dear Lightbody, go to Amelia and my + son from me, and tell them that charming news. And after that, pray have + the compassion to inquire if the post is not come in yet, and run over the + papers, to see if you can find any thing about Walsingham’s prize.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lightbody obeyed, but not with his usual alacrity. Mrs. Beaumont mused + for a moment, and then said, “I do believe he was listening. What could he + be doing there?” + </p> + <p> + “Doing!—Oh, nothing,” said Miss Hunter: “he’s never doing any thing, + you know; and as to listening, he was so far off he could not hear a word + we said: besides, he is such a simple creature, and loves you so!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” said Mrs. Beaumont; “he either did not play me fair, or + else he did a job I employed him in this morning so awkwardly, that I + never wish to employ him again. He is but a <i>low</i> kind of person, + after all; I’ll get rid of him: that sort of people always grow tiresome + and troublesome after a time, and one must shake them off. But I have not + leisure to think of him now—Well, my dear, to go on with what I was + saying to you.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont went on talking of her friendship for Sir John Hunter, and + of the difficulty of appeasing him; but observing that Miss Hunter + listened only with forced attention, she paused to consider what this + could mean. Habitually suspicious, like all insincere people, Mrs. + Beaumont now began to imagine that there was some plot carrying on against + her by Sir John Hunter and Lightbody, and that Miss Hunter was made use of + against her. Having a most contemptible opinion of her Albina’s + understanding, and knowing that her young friend had too little capacity + to be able to deceive her, or to invent a plausible excuse impromptu, Mrs. + Beaumont turned quick, and exclaimed, “My dear, what could Lightbody be + saying to you when I came up?—for I remember he stopped short, and + you both looked so guilty.” + </p> + <p> + “Guilty! did I?—Did he?—Dearest Mrs. Beaumont, don’t look at + me so with your piercing eyes!—Oh! I vow and protest I can’t tell + you; I won’t tell you.” + </p> + <p> + The young lady tittered, and twisted herself into various affected + attitudes; then kissing Mrs. Beaumont, and then turning her back with + childish playfulness, she cried, “No, I won’t tell you; never, never, + never!” + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, my dear, don’t trifle; I have really business to do, and am + in a hurry.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, don’t look at me—never look at me again—promise me + that, and I’ll tell you. Poor Lightbody—Oh, you’re looking at me!—Poor + Lightbody was talking to me of <i>somebody</i>, and he laid me a wager—but + I can’t tell you that—Ah, don’t be angry with me, and I will tell, + if you’ll turn your head quite away!—that I should be married to <i>somebody</i> + before the end of this year. Oh, now, don’t look at me, dearest, dearest + Mrs. Beaumont.” + </p> + <p> + “You dear little simpleton, and was that all?” said Mrs. Beaumont, vexed + to have wasted her time upon such folly: “come, be serious now, my dear; + if you knew the anxiety I am in at this moment—” But wisely judging + that it would be in vain to hope for any portion of the love-sick damsel’s + attention, until she had confirmed her hopes of being married to <i>somebody</i> + before the end of the year, Mrs. Beaumont scrupled not to throw out + assurances, in which she had herself no further faith. After what she had + heard from her son this morning, she must have been convinced that there + was no chance of marrying him to Miss Hunter; she knew indeed positively, + that he would soon declare his real attachment, but she could, she + thought, during the interval retain her power over Miss Hunter, and secure + her services, by concealing the truth. + </p> + <p> + “Before I say one word more of my own affairs, let me, my dearest child, + assure you, that in the midst of all these disappointments and + mortifications about Amelia, I am supported by the hope—by something + more than the hope—that I shall see the daughter of my heart happily + settled soon: Lightbody does not want penetration, I see. But I am not at + liberty to say more. So now, my dear, help me with all your cleverness to + consider what I shall do in the difficulties I am in at this moment. Your + brother has a letter of mine, approving, and so forth, his addresses to my + daughter; now, if he, in the first rashness of his anger, should produce + this to Palmer, I’m undone—or to my son, worse and worse! there + would be a duel between them infallibly, for Beaumont is so warm on any + point of honour—Oh, I dread to think of it, my dear!” + </p> + <p> + “So do I, I’m sure; but, Lord, I’m the worst person to think in a hurry—But + can’t you write a letter? for you always know what to say so well—And + after all, do you know, I don’t think he’ll be half so angry or <i>so + disappointed</i> as you fancy, for I never thought he was so much in love + with Amelia.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “I know, if it was not a secret, I could tell you—” + </p> + <p> + “What? No secrets between us, my darling child.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I can tell you, that just before he proposed for Amelia, he was + consulting with me about proposing for Mrs. Dutton.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Dutton, the widow! Mrs. Dutton! How you astonish me!” said Mrs. + Beaumont (though she knew this before). “Why she is older than I am.” + </p> + <p> + “Older! yes, a great deal; but then you know my brother is no chicken + himself.” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure, compared with you, my dear, he is not young. There’s a + prodigious difference between you.” + </p> + <p> + “Above twenty years; <i>for,</i> you know, he’s by another marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “True; but I can’t believe he proposed for Mrs. Dutton.” + </p> + <p> + “Not actually proposed, because I would not let him; for I should have + hated to have had such an unfashionable-looking woman for my + sister-in-law. I never could have borne to go into public with her, you + know: so I plagued my brother out of it; and luckily he found out that her + jointure is not half so great as it was said to be.” + </p> + <p> + “I could have told him that. Mrs. Dutton’s jointure is nothing nearly so + large as mine was, even before the addition to it which my son so + handsomely, and indeed unexpectedly, made to it this morning. And did I + tell you, my dear? Mr. Palmer, this day, has been so kind as to leave me + all his immense fortune for my own life. But don’t mention it, lest it + should get round, and make ill-will: the Walsinghams know nothing of it. + But to return to your poor brother—if I could any way serve him with + Mrs. Dutton?” + </p> + <p> + “La! he’d never think of her more—and I’m sure I would not have + him.” + </p> + <p> + “You dear little saucy creature! indeed I cannot wonder that you don’t + like the thoughts of Mrs. Dutton for a <i>chaperon</i> in town.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, horrid! horrid!” + </p> + <p> + “And yet, would you condemn your poor brother to be an old bachelor, after + this disappointment with Amelia?” + </p> + <p> + “La, ma’am, can’t he marry any body but Mrs. Dutton?” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could think of any person would suit him. Can you?’ + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know very well who I think would suit him, and one I like to go + into public with of all things.” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” + </p> + <p> + “And one who has promised to present me at court next winter.” + </p> + <p> + “My dearest child! is it possible that you mean me?” + </p> + <p> + “I do;—and why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Why not! My sweet love, do you consider my age?” + </p> + <p> + “But you look so young.” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure Mrs. Dutton looks older, and is older; but I could not bring + myself, especially after being a widow so long, to think of marrying a + young man—to be sure, your brother is not what one should call a + very young man.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear, no; you don’t look above three, or four, or five years older than + he does; and in public, and with dress, and rouge, and fashion, and all + that, I think it would do vastly well, and nobody would think it odd at + all. There’s Lady ——, is not she ten years older than Lord + ——? and every body says that’s nothing, and that she gives the + most delightful parties. Oh, I declare, dearest Mrs. Beaumont, you must + and shall marry my brother, and that’s the only way to make him amends, + and prevent mischief between the gentlemen; the only way to settle every + thing charmingly—and I shall so like it—and I’m so proud of + its being my plan! I vow, I’ll go and write to my brother this minute, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Stay, you dear mad creature; only consider what you are about.” + </p> + <p> + “Consider! I have considered, and I must and will have my own way,” said + the dear mad creature, struggling with Mrs. Beaumont, who detained her + with an earnest hand. “My love,” said she, “I positively cannot let you + use my name in such a strange way. If your brother or the world should + think I had any share in the transaction, it would be so indelicate.” + </p> + <p> + “Indelicate! Dear me, ma’am, but when nobody will know it, how can it be + indelicate? and I will not mention your name, and nobody will ever imagine + that you knew any thing of my writing; and I shall manage it all my own + way; and the plan is all my own: so let me go and write this minute.” + </p> + <p> + “Mercy upon me! what shall I do with this dear headstrong creature!” said + Mrs. Beaumont, letting Miss Hunter go, as if exhausted by the struggle she + had made to detain her impetuous young friend. Away ran Miss Hunter, + sometimes looking back in defiance and laughing, whilst Mrs. Beaumont + shook her head at her whenever she looked back, but found it impossible to + overtake her, and vain to make further opposition. As Mrs. Beaumont walked + slowly homewards, she meditated her own epistle to Sir John Hunter, and + arranged her future plan of operations. + </p> + <p> + If, thought she, Miss Hunter’s letter should not succeed, it is only a + suggestion of hers, of which I am not supposed to know any thing, and I am + only just where I was before. If it does succeed, and if Sir John + transfers his addresses to me, I avoid all danger of his anger on account + of his disappointment with Amelia; for it must then be his play, to + convince me that he is not at all disappointed, and then I shall have + leisure to consider whether I shall marry Sir John or not. At all events, + I can draw on his courtship as long as I please, till I have by degrees + brought Mr. Palmer round to approve of the match. + </p> + <p> + With these views Mrs. Beaumont wrote an incomparable letter to Sir John + Hunter, in which she enveloped her meaning in so many words, and so much + sentiment, that it was scarcely possible to comprehend any thing, except, + “that she should be glad to see Sir John Hunter the next day, to explain + to him a circumstance that had given her, on his account, heartfelt + uneasiness.” Miss Hunter’s letter was carefully revised by Mrs. Beaumont, + though she was to know nothing of it; and such was the art with which it + was retouched, that, after all proper corrections, nothing appeared but + the most childish and imprudent simplicity. + </p> + <p> + After having despatched these letters, Mrs. Beaumont felt much anxiety + about the effect which they might produce; but she was doomed by her own + habits of insincerity to have perpetually the irksome task of assuming an + appearance contrary to her real feelings. Amelia was better, and Mr. + Palmer’s determination to stay in England had spread a degree of + cheerfulness over the whole family, which had not been felt for some time + at Beaumont Park. In this general delight Mrs. Beaumont was compelled + seemingly to sympathize: she performed her part so well, that even Dr. + Wheeler and Captain Lightbody, who had been behind the scenes, began to + believe that the actress was in earnest. Amelia, alas! knew her mother too + well to be the dupe even of her most consummate powers of acting. All that + Mrs. Beaumont said about her joy, and her hopes that Captain Walsingham + would soon appear and confirm her happy <i>pre-sentiments</i>, Amelia + heard without daring to believe. She had such an opinion of her mother’s + address, such a sublime superstitious dread that her mother would, by some + inscrutable means, work out her own purposes, that she felt as if she + could not escape from these secret machinations. Amelia still apprehended + that Sir John Hunter would not be irrevocably dismissed, and that by some + turn of artifice she should find herself bound to him. The next morning + Sir John Hunter, however, finally relieved her from these apprehensions. + After having been closeted for upwards of two hours with Mrs. Beaumont, he + begged to speak to Miss Beaumont; and he resigned all pretensions to the + honour which he had so long and so ardently aspired to. It was his pride + to show that his spirits were not affected by this disappointment: he + scarcely indeed exhibited that decent appearance of mortification which is + usually expected on such an occasion; but with provoking haughtiness + professed himself sincerely obliged to Miss Beaumont for having, <i>however + late in the business</i>, prevented him, by her candour, from the danger + of crossing her inclinations. For this he could scarcely be sufficiently + thankful, when he considered how every day showed the consequences of + marrying young ladies whose affections were previously engaged. He had + only to add, that he hoped the world would see <i>the thing</i> in the + same light in which he took it, and that Miss Beaumont might not find + herself blamed for breaking off <i>the matter</i>, after it had been so + publicly reported: that, for his part, he assured her, he would, as far as + he was concerned, do his utmost to silence unpleasant observations; and + that, as the most effectual means to do this, he conceived, would be to + show that he continued on an amicable footing with the family, he should + do himself the honour to avail himself of the permission—invitation, + indeed—he had just received from Mrs. Beaumont, to continue his + visits as usual at Beaumont Park. + </p> + <p> + To this Amelia could make no objection after the express declaration which + he had just made, that he renounced all pretensions to her favour. However + keenly she felt the implied reproach of having encouraged Sir John as her + admirer, while her affections were previously engaged, and of having shown + candour <i>late</i> in this affair, she could not vindicate herself + without accusing her mother; therefore she attempted neither excuse nor + apology, submitted to let the unfeeling baronet enjoy her confusion, + whilst she said, in general terms, she felt obliged by his assurance that + she should not be the cause of any quarrel between two families who had + hitherto lived in friendship. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. + </h2> + <pre> + “Him no soft thoughts, no gratitude could move; + To gold he fled, from beauty and from love!” + + DRYDEN. + </pre> + <p> + All that passed in the two hours’ conversation between the discarded + baronet and the mother of his late mistress did not transpire; but Mrs. + Beaumont said that she had taken infinite pains to reconcile Sir John to + his fate, and his subsequent behaviour showed that she had succeeded. His + attention towards her also plainly proved that he was not dissatisfied by + the part she had acted, or rather by the part that he thought she had + acted. Thus all things went on smoothly. Mrs. Beaumont, in confidence, + told her friend, Miss Hunter, that Sir John had behaved with the greatest + propriety and candour (candour! that hackneyed word); that he had + acknowledged that his principal inducement to propose for her daughter had + been a desire to be connected with a family for which he had such peculiar + regard. + </p> + <p> + “This, my love,” continued Mrs. Beaumont, “was all, you know, that your + brother could, with propriety, say on such an occasion; all indeed that I + would permit him to say. As to the rest, on Amelia’s account, you know, I + could not refuse his request to continue his visits in this family on the + same footing of friendship as usual.” + </p> + <p> + Whether this was the truth and the whole truth, the mystery that involves + all cabinet-councils, and more especially those of female politicians, + prevents the cautious historian from presuming to decide. But arguing from + general causes, and from the established characters and ruling passions of + the parties concerned, we may safely conjecture that the baronet did not + at this time make any decisive proposal to the lady, but that he kept + himself at liberty to advance or recede, as circumstances should render it + expedient. His ruling passion was avarice; and though he had been allured + by the hints which his sister had thrown out concerning Mrs. Beaumont’s + increased jointure, and vast expectancies from Mr. Palmer, yet he was not + so rash as to act decisively upon such vague information: he had wisely + determined to obtain accurate and positive evidence from Captain + Lightbody, who seemed, in this case, to be the common vouchee; but + Lightbody happened to be gone out to shoot <i>flappers</i>.<a + href="#linknote-4" name="linknoteref-4" id="linknoteref-4"><small>4</small></a> + </p> + <p> + Consequently Sir John wisely entrenched himself in general professions of + regard to Mrs. Beaumont, and reflections on the happiness of being + connected with such a respectable family. Mrs. Beaumont, who understood + the whole of the game, now saw that her play must be to take Captain + Lightbody again into her confidence. + </p> + <p> + Ever careful not to commit herself, she employed Miss Hunter to + communicate <i>her own scheme</i> to the captain, and to prepare him on + the requisite points with proper answers to those inquiries which she + foresaw the baronet would make. + </p> + <p> + “You know, my love,” said Mrs. Beaumont, “you can find a proper moment to + say all you wish to Lightbody.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” said Miss Hunter, “I will if I possibly can this day; but it is + so difficult to find a good time—” + </p> + <p> + “At dinner, suppose?” said Mrs. Beaumont. + </p> + <p> + “At dinner! surely, ma’am, that’s an awkward time, is not it, for talking + of secrets?” + </p> + <p> + “The best time in the world, my dear; you know we are to have the Duttons, + and the Lord knows whom besides, to-day. And when there’s a large company, + and every body talking at once, and eating, and drinking, and carving, it + is the best time in the world! You may say what you please; your + neighbours are all happily engaged, too busy to mind you. Get near fat Mr. + Dutton, and behind the screen of his prodigious elbow you will be + comfortably recessed from curious impertinents. My dear, the most perfect + solitude is not so convenient as one of these great dinners.” + </p> + <p> + Whilst Mrs. Beaumont was demonstrating to Miss Hunter that the most + convenient and secure time for a <i>tête-à-tête</i> is at a large dinner, + she happened to look out of the window, near which they were standing, and + she saw her son and daughter with Mr. Palmer walking in the park; they sat + down under a tree within view of the house. + </p> + <p> + “Come away from the window, my dear,” said Mrs. Beaumont; “they will + observe us, and perhaps think we are plotting something. I wonder what + they are talking of! Look how earnestly Amelia is stretching out her neck, + and Mr. Palmer striking his cane upon the ground. Come back a little, my + dear, come back; you can see as well here.” + </p> + <p> + “But I see a gentleman on horseback, galloping. Oh, ma’am, look! he has + stopped! he has jumped off his horse! Captain Walsingham it must be!” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Walsingham it really is!” said Mrs. Beaumont, pressing forward to + look out of the window, yet standing so, that she could not be seen from + without. + </p> + <p> + “Dear,” said Miss Hunter, “but how delighted Mr. Beaumont seems; and how + Mr. Palmer shakes Captain Walsingham’s hand, as if he had known him these + hundred years! What can make them so glad to see him? Do look at them, + ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “I see it all!” said Mrs. Beaumont, with an involuntary sigh. + </p> + <p> + “But, dear Mrs. Beaumont,” pursued Miss Hunter, “if he has actually come + at last to propose for Amelia, don’t you think he is doing it in a shabby + sort of way? When he has been in London too—and if he has taken such + a treasure too, could not he have come down here a little more in style, + with some sort of an equipage of his own at least? But now only look at + him; would you, if you met him on the road, know him from any common man?” + </p> + <p> + Another sigh, deep and sincere, was all the answer Mrs. Beaumont made. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure,” continued Miss Hunter, as Mrs. Beaumont drew her away from + the window, “I am sure, I think Amelia has not gained much by the change + of admirers; for what’s a captain of a ship?” + </p> + <p> + “He ranks with a colonel in the army, to be sure,” said Mrs. Beaumont; + “but Amelia might have looked much higher. If she does not know her own + interest and dignity, that is not my fault.” + </p> + <p> + “If she had such a fortune as I shall have,” said Miss Hunter, “she might + afford to marry for love, because you know she could make her husband + afterwards keep her proper equipages, and take her to town, and go into + parliament, and get a title for her too!” + </p> + <p> + “Very true, my darling,” said Mrs. Beaumont, who was at this instant so + absent, that she assented without having heard one syllable that her + darling said. + </p> + <p> + “But for Amelia, who has no such great fortune of her own, it is quite + another thing, you know, dearest Mrs. Beaumont. Oh, you’ll see how she’ll + repent when she sees you Lady Puckeridge, and herself plain Mrs. + Walsingham. And when she sees the figure you’ll make in town next winter, + and the style my brother will live in—Oh, then she’ll see what a + difference there is between Sir John Hunter and Captain Walsingham!” + </p> + <p> + “Very true, indeed, my dear,” said Mrs. Beaumont; and this time she did + not answer without having heard the assertion. The door opened. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Walsingham! dare I believe my eyes? And do I see our friend, + Captain Walsingham, again at last?” + </p> + <p> + “At last! Oh, Mrs. Beaumont, you don’t know how hard I have worked to get + here.” + </p> + <p> + “How kind! But won’t you sit down and tell me?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I can neither sit, nor rest, nor speak, nor think upon any subject + but one,” said Captain Walsingham. + </p> + <p> + “That’s right,” cried Mr. Palmer. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Beaumont—pardon my abruptness,” continued Captain Walsingham, + “but you see before you a man whose whole happiness is at stake. May I beg + a few minutes’ conversation with you?” + </p> + <p> + “This instant,” said Mrs. Beaumont, hesitating; but she saw that Mr. + Palmer’s eye was upon her, so with a smile she complied immediately; and + giving her hand graciously to Captain Walsingham, she accompanied him into + a little reading-room within the drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + “May I hope that we are friends?” said Captain Walsingham; “may I hope so, + Mrs. Beaumont—may I?” + </p> + <p> + “Good Heavens! Friends! assuredly; I hope so. I have always had and + expressed the highest opinion of you, Captain Walsingham.” + </p> + <p> + “I have had one, and, hitherto, but one opportunity of showing myself, in + any degree, deserving of your esteem, madam,” said Captain Walsingham. + “When I was in this country some years ago, you must have seen how + passionately I was in love with your daughter; but I knew that my + circumstances were then such that I could not hope to obtain Miss + Beaumont’s hand; and you will do me the justice to allow that I behaved + with prudence. Of the difficulty of the task I alone can judge.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont declared, that she admired Captain Walsingham’s conduct + inexpressibly, now that she understood what his feelings and motives had + been; but really he had kept his own secret so honourably, that she had + not, till within these few days, when it was <i>let out</i> by Mr. + Walsingham to Mr. Palmer, had the most distant idea of his being attached + to her daughter. + </p> + <p> + Captain Walsingham was too polite even to <i>look</i> a doubt of the truth + of a lady’s assertion: he therefore believed, because it was impossible. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont, determining to make her story consistent, repeated nearly + what she had said to Mr. Palmer, and went on to confess that she had + often, with a mother’s pride, perhaps, in her own secret thoughts wondered + at the indifference Captain Walsingham showed towards Amelia. + </p> + <p> + Captain Walsingham was surprised that Mrs. Beaumont’s penetration should + have been so strangely mistaken; especially as the symptoms of admiration + and love must be so well known to a lady who had so many and such + passionate admirers. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont smiled, and observed, that Captain Walsingham, though a + seaman, had all the address of a courtier, and she acknowledged that she + loved address. + </p> + <p> + “If by address Mrs. Beaumont means politeness, I admire it as much as she + does; but I disclaim and despise all that paltry system of artifice, which + is sometimes called address. No person of a great mind ever condescends to + use <i>address</i> in that sense of the word; not because they cannot, but + because they will not.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly—certainly,” said Mrs. Beaumont; “there is nothing I love + so much as frankness.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, frankly, Mrs. Beaumont, may I hope for your approbation in + addressing Miss Beaumont?” + </p> + <p> + “Frankly, then, you have my full approbation. This is the very thing I + have long secretly wished, as Mr. Palmer can tell you. You have ever been + the son-in-law of my choice, though not of my hopes.” + </p> + <p> + Delighted with this frank answer, this full approbation, this assurance + that he had always been the son-in-law of her choice, Captain Walsingham + poured out his warm heart in joy and gratitude. All suspicions of Mrs. + Beaumont were forgotten; for suspicion was unnatural to his mind: though + he knew, though he had experience almost from childhood, of her character, + yet, at this instant, he thought he had, till now, been always prejudiced, + always mistaken. Happy those who can be thus duped by the warmth of their + own hearts! It is a happiness which they who smile in scorn at their + credulity can never enjoy. + </p> + <p> + Wakening a little to the use of his understanding, Captain Walsingham + disconcerted Mrs. Beaumont, by suddenly saying, “Then there was not any + truth in the report, which I have heard with horror, that you were going + to marry Miss Beaumont to Sir John Hunter?” + </p> + <p> + “Then there was not any truth in the report I heard with horror, that you + were going to marry yourself to a Spanish nun?” said Mrs. Beaumont, who + had learned from a veteran in public warfare, that the best way to parry + an attack is not to defend, but to make an assault. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Captain Walsingham,” added she, with an arch smile, “I really + thought you were a man of too much sense, and above all, too much courage, + to be terror-struck by every idle report. You should leave such <i>horrors</i> + to us weak women—to the visionary mind. Now, I could not blame poor + Amelia, if she were to ask, ‘Then was there no truth in the report of the + Spanish incognita?’—No, no,” pursued Mrs. Beaumont, playfully, refusing + to hear Captain Walsingham; “not to me, not to <i>me</i>, must your + defence be made. Appear before your judge, appear before Amelia; I can + only recommend you to mercy.” + </p> + <p> + What a charming woman this Mrs. Beaumont would be, if one could feel quite + sure of her sincerity, thought Captain Walsingham, as he followed the + lady, who, with apparently playful, but really polite grace, thus eluded + all further inquiry into her secret manoeuvres. + </p> + <p> + “Here, my dearest Amelia,” cried she, “is a culprit, whom I am bringing to + your august tribunal for mercy.” + </p> + <p> + “For justice,” said Captain Walsingham. + </p> + <p> + “Justice! Oh, the pride of the man’s heart, and the folly! Who ever talks + of justice to a woman? My dear captain, talk of mercy, or cruelty, if you + will; we ladies delight in being called cruel, you know, and sometimes are + even pleased to be merciful—but to be just, is the last thing we + think of: so now for your trial; public or private, Captain Walsingham?” + </p> + <p> + “Public! as I am innocent.” + </p> + <p> + “Oyes, oyes! all manner of men,” cried Mr. Beaumont. + </p> + <p> + “The Spanish cause coming on!” cried Mr. Palmer: “let me hear it; and let + me have a good seat that I may hear—a seat near the judge.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you shall be judge, Mr. Palmer,” said Amelia; “and here is the best + seat for our good judge.” + </p> + <p> + “And you will remember,” said Mr. Beaumont, “that it is the duty of a good + judge to lean towards the prisoner.” + </p> + <p> + “To lean! No, to sit bolt upright, as I will if I can,” said old Mr. + Palmer, entering into the pleasantry of the young people as readily as if + he had been the youngest man in the company. As he looked round, his good + countenance beamed with benevolent pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “Now, sir captain, be pleased to inform the court what you have done, or + mean to do, with a certain Spanish nun, whom, as it is confidently + asserted in a letter from one of your own men, you carried off from her + nunnery, and did bring, or cause to be brought, with you to England.” + </p> + <p> + “My lord judge, will you do me the favour, or the justice, to order that + the letter alluded to may be read in court?” + </p> + <p> + This was ordered, and done accordingly. + </p> + <p> + “My lord judge,” said Captain Walsingham, “I have nothing to object to the + truth of the main points of this story; and considering that it was told + by a very young man, and a traveller, it contains but a reasonable share + of <i>‘travellers’ wonders.‘</i> Considering the opportunity and + temptation for embellishments afforded by such a romantic tale, less has + been added to it by the narrator than the usual progress of strange + reports might have prepared me to expect. It is most true, as it has been + stated, that I did, by her own desire, carry away from a nunnery, at + ——, this lady, who was neither a nun nor a Spanish lady, nor, + as I am compelled by my regard to truth to add, young, nor yet handsome. + My lord judge, far be it from me to impeach the veracity of the + letter-writer. It is admitted by the highest and the lowest authorities, + that beauty is a matter of taste, and that for taste there is no standard; + it is also notorious, that to a sailor every woman is fair and young, who + is not as old as Hecuba, or as ugly as Caifacaratadaddera. I can therefore + speak only to my own opinion and judgment. And really, my lord, it grieves + me much to spoil the romance, to destroy the effect of a tale, which might + in future serve for the foundation of some novel, over which belles and + beaux, yet unborn, might weep and wonder: it grieves me much, I say, to be + compelled by the severity of this cross-examination to declare the simple + truth, that there was no love in the case; that, to the very best of my + belief and judgment, the lady was not in love with any body, much less + with me.” + </p> + <p> + “As you have admitted, sir,” said the judge, “as you have voluntarily + stated, that to a sailor every woman is fair and young, who is not as old + as Hecuba, or as ugly as that other woman with the unspeakable name, you + will be pleased to inform the court how it happened, or how it was + possible, that in the course of a long voyage, you could avoid falling in + love with the damsel whom you had thus rescued and carried off. Experience + shows us, sir, that at land, and, I presume, at sea, proximity is one of + the most common causes of love. Now, I understand, she was the only woman + you saw for some months; and she had, I think you allow, possession of + your cabin, to and from which you had of course constant egress and + regress. Sir, human nature is human nature; here is temptation, and + opportunity, and circumstantial evidence enough, in our days, to hang a + man. What have you to offer in your defence, young man?” + </p> + <p> + “The plain fact, my lord, is, that instead of three months, I was but + three days in the dangerous state of proximity with the Spanish lady. But + had it been three months, or three years, there is my defence, my lord,” + said Captain Walsingham, bowing to Amelia. “At the first <i>blush</i>, you + allow it, I see, to be powerful; but how powerful, you cannot feel as I + do, without having looked, as I have done, into the mind.” + </p> + <p> + “I have looked into the mind as well as you, sir. You have a great deal of + assurance, to tell me I cannot feel and judge as well as you can. But, + nevertheless, I shall do you justice. I think your defence is sufficient. + I believe we must acquit him. But, pray—the plain matter of fact, + which I wanted to hear, I have not yet got at. What have you done with + this lady? and where is she?” + </p> + <p> + “She was carried safely to her friends—to her friend, for she has + but one friend, that I could find out, an old aunt, who lives in an + obscure lodging, in a narrow street, in London.” + </p> + <p> + “And, upon honour, this is all you know about her?” said Mrs. Beaumont. + </p> + <p> + “All—except that she is in hopes of recovering some property, of + which she says she has been unjustly defrauded by some of her relations. + After I had paid my respects at the Admiralty, I made it my business to + see the lady, and to offer my services; but into her lawsuits, I thank + God, it was not my business to inquire, I recommended to her a good honest + lawyer, and came here as fast as horses could carry me.” + </p> + <p> + “But was not there some giving of diamonds, and exchanging of rings, one + day, upon deck?” said Mrs. Beaumont. + </p> + <p> + “None,” said Captain Walsingham; “that was a mere fable of poor Birch’s + imagination. I recollect the lady showed me a Spanish motto upon her ring; + that is all I can remember about rings.—She had no diamonds, and + very few clothes. Now,” cried Captain Walsingham, growing a little + impatient of the length of his trial, for he had not yet been able to + speak for more than an instant to Amelia, “now, I hope, my trial is ended; + else its length will be, as in some other cases, the worst of + punishments.” + </p> + <p> + “Acquitted! acquitted! honourably acquitted!” said Mr. Palmer. + </p> + <p> + “Acquitted, acquitted, honourably acquitted by general acclamation,” cried + Mr. Beaumont. + </p> + <p> + “Acquitted by a smile from Amelia, worth all our acclamations,” said Mrs. + Beaumont. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Walsingham,” said Miss Hunter, “did the lady come to England and + go to London in a Spanish dress and long waist?” + </p> + <p> + She spoke, but Captain Walsingham did not hear her important question. She + turned to repeat it, but the captain was gone, and Amelia with him. + </p> + <p> + “Bless me! how quick! how odd!” said Miss Hunter, with a pouting look, + which seemed to add—nobody carries me off! + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beaumont looked duller than was becoming. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont applied herself to adjust the pretty curls of Miss Hunter’s + hair; and Mr. Palmer, in one of his absent fits, hummed aloud, as he + walked up and down the room, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “‘And it’s, Oh! what will become of me? + Oh! what shall I do? + Nobody coming to marry me, + Nobody coming to woo.’” + </pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. + </h2> + <pre> + “True love’s the gift which God has giv’n + To man alone, beneath the heav’n; + It is the secret sympathy, + The silver link, the silken tie, + Which heart to heart, and mind to mind, + In body and in soul can bind.” + </pre> + <p> + Happy love, though the most delightful in reality, is the most + uninteresting in description; and lovers are proverbially bad company, + except for one another: therefore we shall not intrude on Captain + Walsingham and Amelia, nor shall we give a journal of the days of + courtship; those days which, by Rousseau, and many people, have been + pronounced to be the happiest; by others, the only happy days of + existence; and which, by some privileged or prudent few, have been found + to be but the prelude to the increasing pleasures of domestic union. + </p> + <p> + Now that Mr. Beaumont saw his sister and his friend thus gratified in + their mutual esteem and affection,—now that he saw all obstacles to + their union removed, he became uncontroulably impatient to declare his own + attachment to Miss Walsingham. + </p> + <p> + “My dear mother, I can bear it no longer. Believe me, you are mistaken in + the whole romance you have imagined to yourself about Miss Hunter. She is + no more in love with me than I am with her. Since you fixed my attention + upon her, I have studied the young lady. She is not capable of love: I + don’t mean that she is not capable of wishing to be married, but that is + quite a different affair, which need not give me any peculiar disturbance. + My dear mother, find another husband for her, and my life for it, her + heart will not break; especially if you give her bales of wedding finery + enough to think and talk about for a calendar year. + </p> + <p> + “You abominably malicious monster of cruelty, I will not smile, nor will I + allow you to indulge your humour in this manner at the expense of your + poor victim.” + </p> + <p> + “Victim! never saw a girl look less like a victim, except, indeed, as to + her ornaments. I believe it is the etiquette for victims to appear dressed + out with garlands, and ribands, and flowers.” + </p> + <p> + “Positively, Edward, I won’t allow you to go on in this style;—do + you know you seriously hurt and offend me? do you consider that Miss + Hunter’s mother was my most intimate friend, and this match I have + anxiously wished, in consequence of an agreement made between us at your + birth and Albina’s?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, ma’am, those agreements never turned out well, from the time of the + Arabian tales to the present moment. And you must pardon me if, after + having tried all that reason and patience would do, in vain, I now come to + impatience, and a little innocent ridicule. Except by laughing, I have no + other way left of convincing you that I never can or will marry this young + lady.” + </p> + <p> + “But so pretty a creature! Surely you <i>have thought</i> her pretty.” + </p> + <p> + “Extremely pretty. And I acknowledge that there have been moments when the + influence of her—beauty, I can’t call it—prettiness, joined to + the power of my mother’s irresistible address, have almost lapped me in + elysium—a fool’s paradise. But, thank Heaven and Miss Walsingham! I + unlapped myself; and though the sweet airs took my fancy, they never + imprisoned my soul.” + </p> + <p> + “Vastly poetical! quite in the blue-stocking style.” + </p> + <p> + “Blue-stocking! Dear mother, that expression is not elegant enough for + you. That commonplace taunt is unworthy of my mother,” said Mr. Beaumont, + warmly, for he was thrown off his guard by the reflection implied on Miss + Walsingham. “Ignorant silly women may be allowed to sneer at information + and talents in their own sex, and, if they have read them, may talk of <i>‘Les + Précieuses Ridicules</i>,’ and <i>‘Les Femmes Savantes</i>,’ and may + borrow from Molière all the wit they want, to support the cause of folly. + But from women who are themselves distinguished for talents, such apostasy—but + I am speaking to my mother—I forbear.” + </p> + <p> + “Great forbearance to your mother you have shown, in truth,” cried Mrs. + Beaumont, reddening with genuine anger: “Marry as you please! I have done. + Fool that I have been, to devote my life to plans for the happiness and + aggrandizement of my children! It is now time I should think of myself. + You shall not see me the defeated, deserted, duped, despised mother—the + old dowager <i>permitted</i> in the house of which she was once the + mistress! No, no, Mr. Beaumont,” cried she, rising indignantly, “this + shall never, never be.” + </p> + <p> + Touched and astonished by a burst of passion, such as he scarcely had ever + before seen from his mother, Mr. Beaumont stopped her as she rose; and + taking her hand in the most affectionate manner, “Forgive me, my dear + mother, the hasty words I said just now. I was very much in the wrong. I + beg your pardon. Forgive your son.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont struggled to withdraw the hand which her son forcibly + detained. + </p> + <p> + “Be always,” continued he, “be always mistress of this house, of me, and + mine. The chosen wife of my heart will never torment you, or degrade + herself, with paltry struggles for power. Your days shall be happy and + honoured: believe me, I speak from my heart.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont looked as if her anger had subsided; yet, as if struggling + with unusual feelings, she sat silent. Mr. Beaumont continued, “Your son—who + is no sentimentalist, no speech-maker—your son, who has hitherto + perhaps been too rough, too harsh—now implores you, by these sincere + caresses, by all that is tender and true in nature, to believe in the + filial affection of your children. Give us, simply give us your + confidence; and our confidence, free and unconstrained, shall be given in + return. Then we shall be happy indeed.” + </p> + <p> + Touched, vanquished, Mrs. Beaumont leaned her head on her son, and said, + “Then we shall be happy indeed!” The exclamation was sincere: at this + moment she thought as she spoke. All her schemes were forgotten: the + reversionary title, the Wigram estate—all, all forgotten: miraculous + eloquence and power of truth! + </p> + <p> + “What happiness!” said Mrs. Beaumont: “I ask no other. You are right, my + dear son; marry Miss Walsingham, and we have enough, and more than enough, + for happiness. You are right; and henceforward we shall have but one mind + amongst us.” + </p> + <p> + With true gratitude and joy her son embraced her; and this was the most + delightful, perhaps the only really delightful, moment she had felt for + years. She was sincere, and at ease. But this touch of nature, strong as + it was, operated only for a moment: habit resumed her influence; art + regained her pupil and her slave! Captain Lightbody and Miss Hunter came + into the room; and with them came low thoughts of plots, and notes, and + baronets, and equipages, and a reversionary title, and the Wigram estate. + What different ideas of happiness! Her son, in the mean time, had started + up, mounted his horse, and had galloped off to realize some of his ideas + of felicity, by the immediate offer of his hand to the lady who possessed + his whole heart. Cool as policy, just recovered from the danger of + imprudent sensibility, could make her, Mrs. Beaumont was now all herself + again. + </p> + <p> + “Have you found much amusement shooting this morning, Lightbody?” said + she, carelessly. + </p> + <p> + “No, ma’am; done nothing—just nothing at all—for I met Sir + John in the grounds, and could not leave him. Poor Sir John, ma’am; I tell + him we must get him a crook; he is quite turned despairing shepherd. Never + saw a man so changed. Upon my soul, he is—seriously now, Mrs. + Beaumont, you need not laugh—I always told Sir John that his time of + falling in love would come; and come it has, at last, with a vengeance.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nonsense! nonsense, Lightbody! This to me! and of Sir John Hunter!” + </p> + <p> + Though Mrs. Beaumont called it, and thought it nonsense, yet it flattered + her; and though she appeared half offended by flattery so gross, as to + seem almost an insult upon her understanding, yet her vanity was secretly + gratified, even by feeling that she had dependents who were thus obliged + to flatter; and though she despised Captain Lightbody for the meanness, + yet he made his court to her successfully, by persisting in all the + audacity of adulation. She knew Sir John Hunter too well to believe that + he was liable to fall in love with any thing but a fair estate or a fine + fortune; yet she was gratified by feeling that she possessed so great a + share of those charms which age cannot wither; of that substantial power, + to which men do not merely feign in poetical sport to submit, or to which + they are slaves only for a honey-moon, but to which they do homage to the + latest hour of life, with unabating, with increasing devotion. Besides + this sense of pleasure arising from calculation, it may be presumed that, + like all other female politicians, our heroine had something of the woman + lurking at her heart; something of that feminine vanity, which inclines to + believe in the potency of personal charms, even when they are in the wane. + Captain Lightbody’s asseverations, and the notes Sir John Hunter wrote to + his sister, were at last listened to by Mrs. Beaumont with patience, and + even with smiles; and, after it had been sufficiently reiterated, that + really it was using Sir John Hunter ill not to give him some more decisive + answer, when he was so unhappy, so impatient, she at length exclaimed, + “Well, Lightbody, tell your friend Sir John, then, since it must be so, I + will consult my friends, and see what can be done for him.” + </p> + <p> + “When may I say? for I dare not see Sir John again—positively I dare + not meet him—without having some hope to give, something decisive. + He says the next time he comes here he must be allowed to make it known to + the family that he is Mrs. Beaumont’s admirer. So, when may I say?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dearest Mrs. Beaumont,” cried Miss Hunter, “say to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow! impossible!” + </p> + <p> + “But when?” said Miss Hunter: “only look at my brother’s note to me again; + you see he is afraid of being cast off at last as he was before about + Amelia, if Mr. Palmer should object; and he says this disappointment would + be such a very different affair.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed,” said Captain Lightbody, “I, who am in Sir John’s confidence, can + vouch for that; for I have reason to believe, that—that <i>the + connexion</i> was the charm, and that the daughter would not have been + thought of. Stop, I was charged not to say this. But <i>when</i> Mrs. + Beaumont, to return to my point—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! name an early day,” cried Miss Hunter, in a fondling tone; “name an + early day for my brother’s coming; and then, you know, it will be so <i>nice</i> + to have the wedding days fixed for both marriages. And, dearest Mrs. + Beaumont, remember I am to be your bride’s-maid; and we’ll have a + magnificent wedding, and I shall be bride’s-maid!” + </p> + <p> + “The dear innocent little creature, how mad she is with spirits! Well, you + shall be my bride’s-maid, if the thing takes place.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>If.—If</i> to the winds!—Captain Lightbody, tell my + brother—No, I’ll write myself, and tell him he may come.” + </p> + <p> + “How she distresses me! But she is so affectionate, one does not know how + to be angry with her. But, my dear, as to naming the day when he may + publicly declare himself, I cannot; for, you know, I have to break the + affair to Mr. Palmer, and to my son and daughter, and I must take my own + time, and find a happy moment for this; so name a day I cannot; but in + general—and it’s always safest to use general terms—you may + say, <i>soon</i>.” + </p> + <p> + This was Mrs. Beaumont’s ultimatum. The note was written accordingly, and + committed to the care of the confidential captain. + </p> + <p> + This business of mysterious note-writing, and secret negotiations<a + href="#linknote-5" name="linknoteref-5" id="linknoteref-5"><small>5</small></a>, + was peculiarly suited to our heroine’s genius and taste. Considering the + negotiation to be now in effect brought within view of a happy + termination, her ambassador, furnished with her ultimatum, having now + actually set out on his ostensible mission of duck-shooting, our fair + negotiatrix prepared to show the usual degree of gratitude towards those + who had been the principal instruments of her success. The proper time, + she thought, was now arrived, when, having no further occasion for Miss + Hunter’s services, she might finally undeceive her young friend as to any + hopes she might retain of a union with Mr. Beaumont; and she felt that it + was now indispensably necessary to disclose the truth, that her son had + declared his attachment to Miss Walsingham. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont opened the delicate case with a sigh, which claimed the + notice of her young confidante. + </p> + <p> + “What a deep sigh!” said Miss Hunter, who was perfect, to use a musical + term, in her lessons, <i>pour observer les soupirs</i>: “What a sigh! I + hope it was for my poor brother?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, no, my love! for one nearer my heart—for you.” + </p> + <p> + “For me!—dear me!” + </p> + <p> + “You see before you a mother, all of whose fondest wishes and plans are + doomed to be frustrated by her children. Amelia would have her way: I was + forced to yield. My son follows her example, insists upon marrying without + fortune, or extraordinary beauty, or any of the advantages which I had + fondly pointed out in the daughter-in-law of my heart. You turn away from + me, my darling! How shall I go on? how shall I tell you all the terrible + truth?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, ma’am, pray go on; pray tell me all.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Walsingham; that’s all, in one word. These Walsinghams have forced + themselves into my family,—fairly outwitted me. I cannot tell you + how much, how deeply I am mortified!” + </p> + <p> + “Thank Heaven! I am not mortified,” cried Miss Hunter, throwing back her + head with pettish disdain. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont, who had prepared herself for a fainting fit, or at least + for a flood of tears, rejoiced to see this turn in the young lady’s + temper. + </p> + <p> + “That’s right, my own love. Hew I admire your spirit! This pride becomes + you, and is what I expected from your understanding. Set a just value upon + yourself, and show it.” + </p> + <p> + “I should set but little value on myself, indeed, if I did not think + myself equal to Miss Walsingham; but Mr. Beaumont knows best.” + </p> + <p> + “Not best, I fear,” said Mrs. Beaumont; “but, from a child he was ever the + most self-willed, uncontrollable being; there was no moving, no persuading + him. There was no power, no appeal, my love, I did not try.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear ma’am, I am excessively sorry you did.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, my dear, I could not refrain from doing all I could, not only for my + son’s sake, but for yours, when I saw your affections, as I feared, so + deeply engaged. But your present magnanimity gives me hopes that the shock + will not be irrecoverable.” + </p> + <p> + “Irrecoverable! No, really, ma’am. If Mr. Beaumont expects to see me wear + the willow for him all my life, his vanity will be mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, my dear,” replied Mrs. Beaumont, “you would not be so weak as + to wear the willow for any man. A young lady of your fortune should never + wear the weeping but the golden willow. Turn your pretty little face again + towards me, and smile once more upon me.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Hunter had sat with her face turned from Mrs. Beaumont during the + whole of this dialogue—“as if by hiding her face, she could conceal + the emotions of her mind from me,” thought her penetrating observer. + </p> + <p> + “Spare me, spare me, dearest Mrs. Beaumont,” cried Miss Hunter, hiding her + face on the arm of the sofa, and seeming now disposed to pass from the + heights of anger to the depths of despair. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont, less hard-hearted than some politicians, who care not who + dies or lives, provided they attain their own objects, now listened at + least with seeming commiseration to her young friend, who, with + intermitting sighs, and in a voice which her position or her sobs rendered + scarcely audible, talked of dying, and of never marrying any other man + upon the earth. + </p> + <p> + Not much alarmed, however, by the dying words of young ladies, Mrs. + Beaumont confined her attention to the absurdity of the resolution against + marriage in general, and at this instant formed a plan of marrying Miss + Hunter to one of her nephews instead of her son. She had one unmarried + nephew, a young man of good figure and agreeable manners, but with only a + younger brother’s portion. To him she thought Miss Hunter’s large fortune + would be highly convenient; and she had reason to believe that his taste + in the choice of a wife would be easily governed by her advice, or by his + interest. Thus she could, at least, prevent her young friend’s affections + and fortune from going out of the family. In consequence of this glimpse + of a new scheme, our indefatigable politician applied herself to prepare + the way for it with her wonted skill. She soothed the lovelorn and pettish + damsel with every expression that could gratify pride and rouse high + thoughts of revenge. She suggested that instead of making rash vows of + celibacy, which would only show forlorn constancy, Miss Hunter should + abide by her first spirited declaration, never to wear the willow for any + man; and that the best way to assert her own dignity would be to marry as + soon as possible. After having given this consolatory advice, Mrs. + Beaumont left the young lady’s grief to wear itself out. “I know, my + love,” added she, “a friend of mine who would die for the happiness which + my obstinate son does not, it seems, know how to value.” + </p> + <p> + “Who, ma’am?” said Miss Hunter, raising her head: “I’m sure I can’t guess + whom you can possibly mean—who, ma’am?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! my dear, excuse me,” said Mrs. Beaumont, “that is a secret I cannot + tell you yet. When you are ‘fit to hear yourself convinced,’ may be, I may + obtain leave to tell you your admirer’s name. I can assure you, he’s a + very fashionable and a very agreeable man; a great favourite with our sex, + a particular friend of mine, and an officer.” + </p> + <p> + “Lord bless me!” exclaimed Miss Hunter, starting quite up, “an officer! I + can’t imagine whom you mean! Dear Mrs. Beaumont, whom can you mean?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont walked towards the door. + </p> + <p> + “Only tell me one thing, dearest Mrs. Beaumont—did I ever see him?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont, wisely declining to answer any more questions at present, + quitted the room, and left Miss Hunter dying—with curiosity. + </p> + <p> + The new delight of this fresh project, with the prospect of bringing to a + happy termination her negotiation with Sir John Hunter, sustained Mrs. + Beaumont’s spirits in the midst of the disappointments she experienced + respecting the marriages of her son and daughter; and enabled her, with + less effort of dissimulation, to take apparently a share in the general + joy which now pervaded her family. Her son expressed his felicity with + unbounded rapture, when he found his proposal to Miss Walsingham + graciously received by the object of his affections, and by all her + family: his gratitude to his mother for no longer opposing his wishes gave + a tenderness to his manner which would have touched any heart but that of + a politician. Amelia, also, even in the midst of her love for Captain + Walsingham, was anxiously intent upon showing dutiful attention to her + mother, and upon making her some amends for the pain she had caused her of + late. Whenever the brother and sister were together, in all their views of + future happiness their mother was one of their principal objects; and + these dispositions both Miss Walsingham and Captain Walsingham were + earnest to confirm. No young people could have higher ideas than they had + of the duty of children towards parents, and of the delight of family + confidence and union. In former times, when Mr. Beaumont had been somewhat + to blame in the roughness of his sincerity towards his mother, and when he + had been disposed to break from her artful restraints, Captain Walsingham, + by his conversation, and by his letters, had always used his power and + influence to keep him within bounds; and whenever he could do so with + truth, to raise Mrs. Beaumont in his opinion. She now appeared in a more + advantageous light to her family, and they were more disposed to believe + in her sincerity than they had ever been since the credulous days of + childhood. The days of love and childhood are perhaps, in good minds, + almost equally credulous, or, at least, confiding. Even Mr. Walsingham was + won over by the pleasure he felt in the prospect of his daughter’s + happiness; and good Mr. Palmer was ten times more attentive than ever to + Madam Beaumont. In his attention, however, there was something more + ceremonious than formerly; it was evident, for he was too honest to + conceal his feelings, that his opinion of her was changed, and that his + attention was paid to her rather as the widow of his old friend than on + her own account. Amelia, who particularly remarked this change, and who + feared that it must be severely painful to her mother, tried by every + honest art of kindness to reinstate her in his regard. Amelia, however, + succeeded only in raising herself in his esteem. + </p> + <p> + “Do not disturb yourself, my dear young lady,” said he to her, one day, + “about your mother and me. Things are on their right footing between us, + and can never be on any other. She, you see, is quite satisfied.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont, indeed, had not Amelia’s quick sensibility with regard to + the real affections of her friends, though she was awake to every external + mark of attention. She was content, as Mr. Palmer before others always + treated her with marked deference, and gave her no reason to apprehend any + alteration in his testamentary dispositions. When settlements were talked + of for the intended marriages, Mr. Palmer seemed to consider Mrs. Beaumont + first in all their consultations, appealed for her opinion, and had ever a + most cautious eye upon her interests. This she observed with satisfaction, + and she was gratified by the demonstrations of increased regard from her + son and daughter, because she thought it would facilitate her projects. + She wished that her marriage with Sir John Hunter should appear well to + the world; and for this reason she desired that it should <i>seem</i> to + be liked by all her family—seem, for as to their real opinions she + was indifferent. + </p> + <p> + Things were in this situation, when Mrs. Beaumont <i>caused herself to be + surprised</i><a href="#linknote-6" name="linknoteref-6" id="linknoteref-6"><small>6</small></a> + one morning by Mr. Palmer, with a letter in her hand, deep in reverie. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! my dear Mr. Palmer, is it you?” cried she, starting very naturally; + “I was really so lost in thought—” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Palmer hoped that he did not disturb her.—“Disturb me! no, my + good friend, you are the very person I wished to consult.” Her eye glanced + again and again upon the letter she held in her hand, but Mr. Palmer + seemed provokingly destitute of curiosity; he however took a chair, and + his snuff-box, and with a polite but cold manner said he was much honoured + by her consulting him, but that of course his judgment could be of little + service to a lady of Mrs. Beaumont’s understanding. + </p> + <p> + “Understanding! Ah!” said she, “there are cases where understanding is of + no use to women, but quite the contrary.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Palmer did not contradict the assertion, nor did he assent to it, but + waited, with a pinch of snuff arrested in its way, to have the cases + specified. + </p> + <p> + “In love affairs, for instance, we poor women,” said Mrs. Beaumont, + looking down prettily; but Mr. Palmer afforded no assistance to her + bashful hesitation; she was under the necessity of finishing her sentence, + or of beginning another, upon a different construction. The latter was + most convenient, and she took a new and franker tone:—“Here’s a + letter from poor Sir John Hunter.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Palmer still sat bending forward to listen with the most composed + deference, but pressed not in the slightest degree upon her confidence by + any question or look down towards the letter, or up towards the lady’s + face, but straightforward looked he, till, quite provoked by his dulness, + Mrs. Beaumont took the matter up again, and, in a new tone, said, “To be + candid with you, my dear friend, this is a subject on which I feel some + awkwardness and reluctance in speaking to you—for of all men + breathing, I should in any important action of my life wish for your + approbation; and yet, on the present occasion, I fear, and so does Sir + John, that you will utterly disapprove of the match.” + </p> + <p> + She paused again, to be asked—What match? But compelled by her + auditor’s invincible silence to make out her own case, she proceeded: “You + must know, my good sir, that Sir John Hunter is, it seems, unconquerably + bent upon a connexion with this family; for being refused by the daughter, + he has proposed for the mother!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Palmer, bowing. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you would have been more surprised,” said Mrs. Beaumont: “I am + glad the first sound of the thing does not, as I was afraid it would, + startle or revolt you.” + </p> + <p> + “Startle me, it could not, madam,” said Mr. Palmer, “for I have been + prepared for it some time past.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible? And who could have mentioned it to you—Captain + Lightbody?” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Lightbody!” cried Mr. Palmer, with a sudden flash of indignation: + “believe me, madam, I never thought of speaking to Captain Lightbody of + your affairs, I am not in the habit of listening to such people.” + </p> + <p> + “But still, he might have spoken.” + </p> + <p> + “No, madam, no; he would not have dared to bring me secret information.” + </p> + <p> + “Honourable! quite honourable! But then, my dear sir, how came you to know + the thing?” + </p> + <p> + “I saw it. You know, madam, those who stand by always see more than the + players.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you think my son and daughter, and Captain Walsingham, know it + too?” + </p> + <p> + “I fancy not; for they have not been standers by: they have been deeply + engaged themselves.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s well—for I wished to have your opinion and advice in the + first place, before I hinted it even to them, or any one else living. As I + feared the match would not meet your approbation, I told Sir John so, and + I gave him only a provisional consent.” + </p> + <p> + “Like the provisional consent of that young Irish lady,” said Mr. Palmer, + laughing, “who went through the marriage service with her lover, adding at + the end of each response, ‘provided my father gives his consent.‘<a + href="#linknote-7" name="linknoteref-7" id="linknoteref-7"><small>7</small></a> + But, madam, though I am old enough certainly to be your father, yet even + if I had the honour to be so in reality, as you are arrived at years of + discretion, you know you cannot need my consent.” + </p> + <p> + “But seriously, my excellent friend,” cried she, “I never could be happy + in marrying against your approbation. And let me, in my own vindication, + explain to you the whole of the affair.” + </p> + <p> + Here Mr. Palmer, dreading one of her long explanations, which he knew he + should never comprehend, besought her not to invest him with the + unbecoming character of her judge. He represented that no vindication was + necessary, and that none could be of any use. She however persisted in + going through a sentimental defence of her conduct. She assured Mr. + Palmer, that she had determined never to marry again; that her inviolable + respect for her dear Colonel Beaumont’s memory had induced her to persist + in this resolution for many years. That motives of delicacy and generosity + were what first prevailed with her to listen to Sir John’s suit; and that + now she consoled and supported herself by the proud reflection, that she + was acting as her dear Colonel Beaumont himself, could he know the + circumstances and read her heart, would wish and enjoin her to act. + </p> + <p> + Here a smile seemed to play upon Mr. Palmer’s countenance; but the smile + had vanished in an instant, and was followed by a sudden gush of tears, + which were as suddenly wiped away; not, however, before they reminded Mrs. + Beaumont to spread her handkerchief before her face. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” resumed she, after a decent pause, “perhaps I am doing wrong + with the best intentions. Some people think that widows should never, on + any account, marry again, and perhaps Mr. Palmer is of this opinion?” + </p> + <p> + “No, by no means,” said Mr. Palmer; “nor was Colonel Beaumont. Often and + often he said in his letters to me, that he wished his wife to marry again + after he was gone, and to be as happy after his death as she had been + during his life. I only hope that your choice may fulfil—may justify—” + Mr. Palmer stopped again, something in Shakspeare, about preying on + garbage, ran in his head; and, when Mrs. Beaumont went on to some fresh + topics of vindication, and earnestly pressed for his <i>advice</i>, he + broke up the conference by exclaiming, “‘Fore Jupiter, madam, we had + better say nothing more about the matter; for, after all, what can the wit + of man or woman make of it, but that you choose to marry Sir John Hunter, + and that nobody in the world has a right to object to it? There is + certainly no occasion to use any management with me; and your eloquence is + only wasting itself, for I am not so presumptuous, or so unreasonable, as + to set myself up for the judge of your actions. You do me honour by + consulting me; but as you already know my opinion of the gentleman, I must + decline saying any thing further on the subject.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont was left in a painful state of doubt as to the main point, + whether Mr. Palmer would or would not alter his will. However, as she was + determined that the match should be accomplished, she took advantage of + the declaration Mr. Palmer made, that he had no right to object to her + following her own inclinations; and she told Sir John Hunter that Mr. + Palmer was perfectly satisfied; and that he had indeed relieved her mind + from some foolish scruples, by having assured her that it was Colonel + Beaumont’s particular wish, often expressed in his confidential letters, + that his widow should marry again. So far, so good. Then the affair was to + be broken to her son and daughter. She begged Mr. Palmer would undertake, + for her sake, this delicate task; but he declined it with a frank + simplicity. + </p> + <p> + “Surely, madam,” said he, “you can speak without difficulty to your own + son and daughter; and I have through life observed, that employing one + person to speak to another is almost always hurtful. I should not presume, + however, to regulate your conduct, madam, by my observations; I should + only give this as a reason for declining the office with which you + proposed to honour me.” + </p> + <p> + The lady, compelled to speak for herself to her son and daughter, opened + the affair to them with as much delicacy and address as she had used with + Mr. Palmer. Their surprise was great; for they had not the most remote + idea of her intentions. The result of a tedious conversation of three + hours’ length was perfectly satisfactory to her, though it would have been + to the highest degree painful and mortifying to a woman of more feeling, + or one less intent upon <i>an establishment</i>, a reversionary title, and + the Wigram estate. How low she sunk in the opinion of her children and her + friends was comparatively matter of small consequence to Mrs. Beaumont, + provided she could keep fair appearances with the world. Whilst her son + and daughter were so much ashamed of her intended marriage, that they + would not communicate their sentiments even to each other,—they, + with becoming duty, agreed that Mrs. Beaumont was very good in speaking to + them on the subject; as she had an uncontroulable right to marry as she + thought proper. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beaumont now wrote letters innumerable to her extensive circle of + connexions and acquaintance, announcing her approaching nuptials, and + inviting them to her wedding. It was settled by Mrs. Beaumont, that the + three marriages should <i>take place</i> on the same day. This point she + laboured with her usual address, and at last brought the parties concerned + to give up their wishes for a private wedding, to gratify her love for + show and parade. Nothing now remained but to draw the settlements. Mrs. + Beaumont, who piqued herself upon her skill in business, and who thought + the sum of wisdom was to excel in cunning, looked over her lawyer’s + drafts, and suggested many nice emendations, which obtained for her from + an attorney the praise of being a vastly clever woman. Sir John was not, + on his side, deficient in attention to his own interests. Never was there + a pair better matched in this respect; never were two people going to be + married more afraid that each should <i>take the other in</i>. Sir John, + however, pressed forward the business with an eagerness that surprised + every body. Mrs. Beaumont again and again examined the settlements, to try + to account prudentially for her lover’s impatience; but she <i>saw</i> + that <i>all</i> was right there on her part, and her self-love at last + acquiesced in the belief that Sir John’s was now the ardour of a real + lover. To the lady’s entire satisfaction, the liveries, the equipages, the + diamonds, the wedding-clothes were all bought, and the wedding-day + approached. Mrs. Beaumont’s rich and fashionable connexions and + acquaintance all promised to grace her nuptials. Nothing was talked of but + the preparations for Mrs. Beaumont and Sir John Hunter’s marriage; and so + full of business and bustle, and mysteries, and <i>sentimentalities</i>, + and vanities was she, that she almost forgot that any body was to be + married but herself. The marriages of her son and daughter seemed so + completely to merge in the importance and splendour of her own, that she + merely recollected them as things that were to be done on the same day, as + subordinate parts that were to be acted by inferior performers, whilst she + should engross the public interest and applause. In the mean time Miss + Hunter was engaged, to Mrs. Beaumont’s satisfaction and her own, in + superintending the wedding-dresses, and in preparing the most elegant + dress imaginable for herself, as bride’s-maid. Now and then she + interrupted these occupations with sighs and fits of pretty sentimental + dejection; but Mrs. Beaumont was well convinced that a new lover would + soon make her forget her disappointment. The nephew was written to, and + invited to spend some time with his aunt, immediately after her marriage; + for she determined that Miss Hunter should be her niece, since she could + not be her daughter. This secondary intrigue went on delightfully in our + heroine’s imagination, without interfering with the main business of her + own marriage. The day, the long-expected day, that was to crown all her + hopes, at length arrived. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. + </h2> + <p> + “On peut étre plus fin qu’un autre, mais pas plus fin que tous les + autres.”—ROCHEFOUCAULT. + </p> + <p> + The following paragraph<a href="#linknote-8" name="linknoteref-8" + id="linknoteref-8"><small>8</small></a> extracted from the newspapers of + the day, will, doubtless, be acceptable to a large class of readers. + </p> + <p> + “FASHIONABLE HYMENEALS. + </p> + <p> + “Yesterday, Sir John Hunter, of Hunter Hall, Devonshire, Bart., led to the + hymeneal altar the accomplished Mrs. Beaumont, relict of the late Colonel + Beaumont, of Beaumont Park. On the same day her son and daughter were also + married—Mr. Beaumont to Miss Walsingham, daughter of E. Walsingham, + Esq., of Walsingham House;—and Miss Beaumont to Captain Walsingham + of the navy, a near relation of Edward Walsingham, Esq., of Walsingham + House. + </p> + <p> + “These nuptials in the Beaumont family were graced by an overflowing + concourse of beauty, nobility, and fashion, comprehending all the + relations, connexions, intimate friends, and particular acquaintances of + the interesting and popular Mrs. Beaumont. The cavalcade reached from the + principal front of the house to the south gate of the park, a distance of + three-quarters of a mile. Mrs. Beaumont and her daughter, two lovely + brides, in a superb landau, were attired in the most elegant, becoming, + fashionable, and costly manner, their dress consisting of the finest lace, + over white satin. Mrs. Beaumont’s was point lace, and she was also + distinguished by a long veil of the most exquisite texture, which added a + tempered grace to beauty in its meridian. In the same landau appeared the + charming brides’-maids, all in white, of course. Among these, Miss Hunter + attracted particular attention, by the felicity of her costume. Her + drapery, which was of delicate lace, being happily adapted to show to the + greatest advantage the captivating contour of her elegant figure, and + ornamented with white silk fringe and tassels, marked every airy motion of + her sylph-like form. + </p> + <p> + “The third bride on this auspicious day was Miss Walsingham, who, with her + father and bride’s-maids, followed in Mr. Walsingham’s carriage. Miss + Walsingham, we are informed, was dressed with simple elegance, in the + finest produce of the Indian loom; but, as she was in a covered carriage, + we could not obtain a full view of her attire. Next to the brides’ + equipages, followed the bridegrooms’. And chief of these Sir John Hunter + sported a splendid barouche. He was dressed in the height of the ton, and + his horses deserved particular admiration. After Sir John’s barouche came + the equipage belonging to Mr. Beaumont, highly finished but plain: in this + were the two bridegrooms, Mr. Beaumont and Captain Walsingham, accompanied + by Mr. Palmer (the great West-Indian Palmer), who, we understand, is the + intimate friend and relative of the Beaumont family. Then followed, as our + correspondent counted, above a hundred carriages of distinction, with a + prodigious cavalcade of gentry. The whole was closed by a long line of + attendants and domestics. The moment the park gates were opened, groups of + young girls of the Beaumont tenantry, habited in white, with knots of + ribands, and emblematical devices suited to the occasion, and with baskets + of flowers in their hands, began to strew vegetable incense before the + brides, especially before Mrs. Beaumont’s landau. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘And whilst the priests accuse the bride’s delay, + Roses and myrtles still obstruct her way.’ +</pre> + <p> + “The crowd, which assembled as they proceeded along the road to the + church, and in the churchyard, was such that, however gratefully it + evinced the popularity of the amiable parties, it became at last evidently + distressing to the principal object of their homage—Mrs. Beaumont, + who could not have stood the gaze of public admiration but for the + friendly and becoming, yet tantalizing refuge of her veil. Constables were + obliged to interfere to clear the path to the church door, and the amiable + almost fainting lady was from the arms of her anxious and alarmed + bride’s-maids lifted out of her landau, and supported into the church and + up the aisle with all the marked gallantry of true tenderness, by her + happy bridegroom, Sir John Hunter. + </p> + <p> + “After the ceremony was over, Sir John and Lady Hunter, and the two other + new-married couples, returned to Beaumont Park with the <i>cortège</i> of + their friends, where the company partook of an elegant collation. The + artless graces and fascinating affability of Lady Hunter won all hearts; + and the wit, festive spirits, and politeness of Sir John, attracted + universal admiration—not to say envy, of all present. Immediately + after the collation, the happy couple set off for their seat at Hunter + Hall. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Beaumont, and the new Mrs. Beaumont, remained at Beaumont Park. + Captain and Mrs. Walsingham repaired to Mr. Walsingham’s. + </p> + <p> + “It is a singular circumstance, communicated to us by the indisputable + authority of one of the bride’s-maids, that Miss Walsingham, as it was + discovered after the ceremony, was actually married with her gown the + wrong side outwards. Whether this be an omen announcing good fortune to <i>all</i> + the parties concerned, we cannot take upon us to determine; but this much + we may safely assert, that never distinguished female in the annals of + fashion was married under more favourable auspices than the amiable Lady + Hunter. And it is universally acknowledged, that no lady is better suited + to be, as in the natural course of things she will soon be, Countess of + Puckeridge, and at the head of the great Wigram estate.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + So ends our newspaper writer. + </p> + <p> + Probably this paragraph was sent to the press before the <i>fashionable + hymeneals</i> had actually taken place. This may in some measure account + for the extraordinary omissions in the narrative. After the three + marriages had been solemnized, just when the ceremony was over, and Lady + Hunter was preparing to receive the congratulations of the brilliant + congregation, she observed that the clergyman, instead of shutting his + book, kept it open before him, and looked round as if expecting another + bride. Mrs. Beaumont, we should say Lady Hunter, curtsied to him, smiled, + and made a sign that the ceremony was finished; but at this instant, to + her astonishment, she saw her bride’s-maid, Miss Hunter, quit her place, + and beheld Captain Lightbody seize her hand, and lead her up towards the + altar. Lady Hunter broke through the crowd that was congratulating her, + and reaching Miss Hunter, drew her hack forcibly, and whispered, “Are you + mad, Miss Hunter? Is this a place, a time for frolic? What are you about?” + </p> + <p> + “Going to be married, ma’am! following your ladyship’s good example,” + answered her bride’s-maid, flippantly,—at the same time springing + forward from the detaining grasp, regardless even of the rent she made in + her lace dress, she hurried, or was hurried on by Captain Lightbody. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Lightbody!” cried Lady Hunter; but, answering only with a + triumphant bow, he passed on with his bride. + </p> + <p> + “Heavens! will nobody stop him?” cried Lady Hunter, over-taking them again + as they reached the steps. She addressed herself to the clergyman. “Sir, + she is a ward in chancery, and under my protection: they have no licence; + their banns have not been published: you cannot, dare not, surely, marry + them?” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, Lady Hunter,” said Captain Lightbody; “I have shown Mr. Twigg + my licence.” + </p> + <p> + “I have seen it—I thought it was with your ladyship’s knowledge,” + replied Mr. Twigg. “I—I cannot object—it would be at my own + peril. If there is any lawful impediment, your ladyship will make it at + the proper response.” + </p> + <p> + A friend of Captain Lightbody’s appeared in readiness to give the young + lady away. + </p> + <p> + “The ceremony must go on, madam,” said the clergyman. + </p> + <p> + “At your peril, sir!” said Lady Hunter. “This young lady, is a ward of + chancery, and not of age!” + </p> + <p> + “I am of age—of age last month,” cried the bride. + </p> + <p> + “Not till next year.” + </p> + <p> + “Of age last month. I have the parish register,” said Captain Lightbody. + “Go on, sir, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + “Good Heavens! Miss Hunter, can you bear,” said Lady Hunter, “to be the + object of this indecent altercation? Retire with me, and only let me speak + to you, I conjure you!” + </p> + <p> + No—the young lady stood her ground, resolute to be a bride. + </p> + <p> + “If there is any lawful impediment, your ladyship will please to make it + at the proper response,” said the chaplain. “I am under a necessity of + proceeding.” + </p> + <p> + The ceremony went on. + </p> + <p> + Lady Hunter, in high indignation, retired immediately to the vestry-room + with her bridegroom. “At least,” cried she, throwing herself upon a seat, + “it shall never be said that I countenanced, by my presence, such a + scandalous marriage! Oh! Sir John Hunter, why did you not interfere to + save your own sister?” + </p> + <p> + “Save her! Egad, she did not choose to be saved. Who can save a woman that + does not choose it? What could I do? Is not she your ladyship’s pupil?—he! + he! he! But I’ll fight the rascal directly, if that will give you any + satisfaction.” + </p> + <p> + “And he shall have a lawsuit too for her fortune!” said Lady Hunter; “for + she is not of age. I have a memorandum in an old pocket book. Oh! who + would have thought such a girl could have duped me so!” + </p> + <p> + Lady Hunter’s exclamations were interrupted by the entrance of her son and + daughter, who came to offer what consolation they could. The brilliant + congregation poured in a few minutes afterwards, with their mingled + congratulations and condolence, eager, above all things, to satisfy their + curiosity. + </p> + <p> + Captain Lightbody, with invincible assurance, came up just as Lady Hunter + was getting into her carriage, and besought permission to present his + bride to her. But Lady Hunter, turning her back upon him without reply, + said to her son, “If Captain Lightbody is going to Beaumont Park, I am not + going there.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lightbody, who was now emancipated from all control, and from all + sense of propriety, called out from her <i>own</i> carriage, in which she + was seated, “That, thank Heaven! she had a house of her own to go to, and + that nothing was farther from her thoughts than to interrupt the + festivities of Lady Hunter’s more mature nuptials.” + </p> + <p> + Delighted with having made this tart answer, Mrs. Lightbody ordered her + husband to order her coachman to drive off as fast as possible. The + captain, by her particular desire, had taken a house for her at Brighton, + the gayest place she could think of. We leave this amiable bride rejoicing + in the glory of having duped a lady of Mrs. Beaumont’s penetration; and + her bridegroom rejoicing still more in the parish register, by the help of + which he hoped to obtain full enjoyment of what he knew to be his bride’s + most valuable possession—her portion, and to defy Lady Hunter’s + threatened lawsuit. + </p> + <p> + In the mean time, Lady Hunter, in her point lace and beautiful veil, + seated beside her baronet, in his new barouche, endeavoured to forget this + interruption of her triumph. She considered, that though Miss Hunter’s + fortune was lost to her family, yet the title of countess, and the Wigram + estate, were <i>secure</i>: this was solid consolation; and recovering her + features from their unprecedented discomposure, she forced smiles and + looks suitable to the occasion, as she bowed to congratulating passengers. + </p> + <p> + Arrived at Beaumont Park, she prepared, without appetite, to partake of + the elegant collation, and to do the honours with her accustomed grace: + she took care to seat Mr. Palmer beside her, that she might show the world + on what good terms they were together. She was pleased to see, that though + two younger brides sat near her, she engaged by far the largest share of + public admiration. They were so fully content and engrossed by their own + feelings, that they did not perceive that they were what is called <i>thrown + into the shade</i>. All the pride, pomp, and circumstance of these + glorious hymeneals appeared to them but as a dream, or as a scene that was + acting before them, in which they were not called to take a part. Towards + the end of the collation, one of the guests, my Lord Rider, a nobleman who + always gave himself the air of being in a prodigious hurry, declared that + he was under the necessity of going off, for he expected a person to meet + him at his house in town, on some particular business, at an appointed + day. His lordship’s travelling companion, who was unwilling to quit so + prematurely the present scene of festivity, observed that the man of + business had engaged to write to his lordship, and that he should at least + wait till the post should come in. Lady Hunter politely sent to inquire if + any letters had arrived for his lordship; and, in consequence of his + impatience, all the letters for the family were brought: Lady Hunter + distributed them. There was one for Captain Walsingham, with a Spanish + motto on the seal: Lady Hunter, as she gave it to him, whispered to + Amelia, “Don’t be jealous, my dear, but that, I can tell you, is a letter + from his Spanish incognita.” Amelia smiled with a look of the most perfect + confidence and love. Captain Walsingham immediately opened the letter, + and, looking at the signature, said, “It is not from my Spanish incognita,—it + is from her aunt; I will read it by and by.” + </p> + <p> + “A fine evasion, indeed!” exclaimed Lady Hunter: “look how coolly he puts + it into his pocket! Ah! my credulous Amelia, do you allow him to begin in + this manner?” pursued she, in a tone of raillery, yet as if she really + suspected something wrong in the letter; “and have you no <i>curiosity</i>, + Mrs. Walsingham?” + </p> + <p> + Amelia declared that she had none; that she was not one of those who think + that jealousy is the best proof of love. + </p> + <p> + “Right, right,” said Mr. Palmer; “confidence is the best proof of love; + and yours, I’ll venture to say, is, and ever will be, well placed.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Walsingham, with a grateful smile, took his letter again out of + his pocket, and immediately began to read it in a low voice to Amelia, + Lady Hunter, and Mr. Palmer. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + “DEAR SIR, + </p> + <p> + “Though almost a stranger to you, I should think myself wanting in + gratitude if I did not, after all the services you have done my family, + write to thank you in my niece’s name and in my own: and much I regret + that my words will so ill convey to you the sentiments of our hearts. I am + an old woman, not well accustomed to use my pen in the way of + letter-writing; but can say truly, that whilst I have life I shall be + grateful to you. You have restored me to happiness by restoring to me my + long-lost niece. It will, I am sure, give you satisfaction to hear, that + my niece—” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Captain Walsingham stopped short, with a look which confirmed Lady Hunter + in all her suspicions,—which made Mr. Palmer take out his snuff-box,—which + startled even Mr. Beaumont; but which did not raise in the mind of Amelia + the slightest feeling of doubt or suspicion. She smiled, and looked round + at her alarmed friends with a manner which seemed to say, “Can you suppose + it possible that there can be any thing wrong?” + </p> + <p> + “Pray go on, Captain Walsingham,” said Lady Hunter, “unless—unless + you have particular, very particular reasons.” + </p> + <p> + “I have particular, very particular reasons,” said Captain Walsingham; + “and since,” turning to Amelia, “this confiding lady does not insist upon + my going on—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Lady Hunter, gaily, snatching the letter, “I am not such a + credulous, or, as you call it, confiding lady.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg of your ladyship not to read it,” said Captain Walsingham, in an + earnest tone. + </p> + <p> + “You beg of me not to read it, and with that alarmed look—Oh! + positively, I must, and will read it.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at present, then, I entreat you!” + </p> + <p> + “This very instant,” cried Lady Hunter, affecting all the imperious + vivacity of a young bride, under favour of which she determined to satisfy + her malicious curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “Pray, Lady Hunter, do not read it,” repeated Captain Walsingham, laying + his hand over the letter. “It is for your own sake,” added he, in a low + and earnest voice, “it is for your own sake, not mine, that I beg of you + to forbear.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Hunter, imagining this to be only a subterfuge, drew the letter from + beneath Captain Walsingham’s hand, exclaiming, “For <i>my sake!</i> Oh, + Captain, that is a charming <i>ruse de guerre</i>, but do not hope that it + shall succeed!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! mother, believe him, believe him,” cried Amelia: “I am sure he tells + you the truth, and he speaks for your sake, not for his own.” + </p> + <p> + Amelia interceded in vain. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Palmer patted Amelia’s shoulder fondly, saying, “You are a dear good + creature.” + </p> + <p> + “A dear credulous creature!” exclaimed Lady Hunter. She had now + undisturbed possession of the letter. + </p> + <p> + Captain Walsingham stood by with a face of great concern; in which Amelia + and Mr. Beaumont, without knowing the cause, seemed to sympathize. + </p> + <p> + The contest had early attracted the attention of all within hearing or + view of her ladyship, and by this time had been pointed out and accounted + for in whispers, even to the most remote parts of the room; so that the + eyes of almost every individual in the assembly were now fixed upon Lady + Hunter. She had scarcely glanced her eye upon the letter, when she turned + pale as death, and exclaimed, “He knew it! he knew it!” Then, recollecting + herself, she made a struggle to conceal her dismay—the forced smile + quivered on her lip,—she fell back in a swoon, and was carried out + of the room by her son and daughter. Sir John Hunter was at another table, + eating eel-pie, and was the last person present who was made to understand + what had happened. + </p> + <p> + “It is the damned heat of the room, I suppose,” said he, “that made her + faint;” and swallowing the last morsel on his plate, and settling his + collar, he came up to Captain Walsingham. “What’s this I hear?—that + Lady Hunter has fainted? I hope they have carried her into the air. But + where’s the letter they say affected her so?” + </p> + <p> + “In my pocket,” said Captain Walsingham, coolly. + </p> + <p> + “Any thing new in it?” said Sir John, with a sulky, fashionable + indifference. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing new to you, probably, Sir John,” said Captain Walsingham, walking + away from him in disgust. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it was the heat overcame Lady Hunter,” continued Sir John, + speaking to those who stood near him. “Is any body gone to see how she is + now? I wonder if they’ll let me in to see her.” + </p> + <p> + With assumed carelessness, but with real embarrassment, the bridegroom + went to inquire for his bride. + </p> + <p> + Good Mr. Palmer went soon afterwards, and knocked softly at the lady’s + door. “Is poor Lady Hunter any better?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! yes; quite well again now,” cried Lady Hunter, raising herself from + the bed, on which she had been laid; but Mr. Palmer thought, as he saw her + through the half-opened door, she still looked a deplorable spectacle, in + all her wedding finery. “Quite well again, now: it was nothing in the + world but the heat. Amelia, my love, go back to the company, and say so, + lest my friends should be uneasy. Thank you, kind Mr. Palmer, for coming + to see me: excuse my not being able to let you in now, for I must change + my dress. Sir John sends me word his barouche will be at the door in ten + minutes, and I have to hurry on my travelling dress. Excuse me.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Palmer retired, seeing clearly that she wished to avoid any + explanation of the real cause of her fainting. In the gallery, leading + from her room, he met Captain Walsingham, who was coming to inquire for + Lady Hunter. + </p> + <p> + “Poor woman! do you know the cause of her fainting?” said Captain + Walsingham. + </p> + <p> + “No; and I believe she does not wish me to know it: therefore don’t tell + it me,” said Mr. Palmer. + </p> + <p> + “It is a secret that must be in the public papers in a few days,” said + Captain Walsingham. “This lady that I brought over from Lisbon—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what can she have to say to Mrs. Beaumont?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing to Mrs. Beaumont, but a great deal to Lady Hunter. You may + remember that I mentioned to you that some of her relations had contrived + to have her kept in that convent abroad, and had spread a report of her + death, that the heir-at-law might defraud her of her property, and get and + keep possession of a large estate, which fell to him in case of her death. + Of further particulars, or even of the name of this estate, I knew nothing + till this morning, when that letter from the aunt—here it is—tells + me, that the estate to which her niece was entitled is the great Wigram + estate, and that old Wigram was the rascally heir-at-law. The lawyer I + recommended to the lady was both an honest and a clever fellow; and he + represented so forcibly to old Wigram the consequences of his having his + fraud brought to light in a court of equity, that he made him soon agree + to a private reference. The affair has been compromised, and settled thus:—The + possession of the estate is given up, just as it stands, to the rightful + owner; and she forbears to call the old sinner to an account for past + arrears. She will let him make it out to the world and to his own + conscience, if he can, that he bona-fide believed her to be dead.” + </p> + <p> + “So,” said Mr. Palmer, “so end Madam Beaumont’s hopes of being at the head + of the Wigram estate, and so end her hopes of being a countess!—And + actually married to this ruined spendthrift!—Now we see the reason + he pressed on the match so, and urged her to marry him before the affair + should become public. She is duped, and for life!—poor Madam + Beaumont!” + </p> + <p> + At this moment Lady Hunter came out of her room, after having changed her + dress, and repaired her smiles. + </p> + <p> + “Ready for my journey now,” said she, passing by Mr. Palmer quickly. “I + must show myself to the world of friends below, and bid them adieu. One + word, Captain Walsingham: there’s no occasion, you know,” whispered she, + “to say any thing <i>below</i> of that letter; I really don’t believe it.” + </p> + <p> + Too proud to let her mortification be known, Lady Hunter constrained her + feelings with all her might. She appeared once more with a pleased + countenance in the festive assembly. She received their compliments and + congratulations, and invited them, with all the earnestness of friendship, + to favour Sir John and her, as soon as possible, with their company at + Hunter Hall. The company were now fast departing; carriages came to the + door in rapid succession. Lady Hunter went through with admirable grace + and variety the sentimental ceremony of taking leave; and when her + splendid barouche was at the door, and when she was to bid adieu to her + own family, still she acted her part inimitably. In all the becoming mixed + smiles and tears of a bride, she was seen embracing by turns her beloved + daughter and son, and daughter-in-law and son-in-law, over and over again, + in the hall, on the steps; to the last moment contriving to be torn + delightfully from the bosom of her family by her impatient bridegroom. + Seated beside him in his barouche, she kissed her hand to Mr. Palmer,—smiled: + all her family, who stood on the steps, bowed; and Sir John drove away + with his prize. + </p> + <p> + “He’s a swindler!” cried Mr. Palmer, “and she is—” + </p> + <p> + “Amelia’s mother,” interrupted Captain Walsingham. + </p> + <p> + “Right,” said Mr. Palmer; “but Amelia had a father too,—my excellent + friend, Colonel Beaumont,—whom she and her brother resemble in all + that is open-hearted and honourable. Well, well! I make no reflections; I + hate moral reflections. Every body can think and feel for themselves, I + presume. I only say,—Thank Heaven, we’ve done with <i>manoeuvring!</i>” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ALMERIA. + </h2> + <p> + John Hodgkinson was an eminent and wealthy Yorkshire grazier, who had no + children of his own, but who had brought up in his family Almeria + Turnbull, the daughter of his wife by a former husband, a Mr. Turnbull. + Mr. Turnbull had also been a grazier, but had not been successful in the + management of his affairs, therefore he could not leave his daughter any + fortune; and at the death of her mother, she became entirely dependent on + her father-in-law. Old Hodgkinson was a whimsical man, who, except in + eating and drinking, had no inclination to spend any part of the fortune + he had made; but, enjoying the consequence which money confers, + endeavoured to increase this importance by keeping all his acquaintance in + uncertainty, as to what he called his “<i>testamentary dispositions</i>.” + Sometimes he hinted that his step-daughter should be a match for the + proudest riband in England; sometimes he declared, that he did not know of + what use money could be to a woman, except to make her a prey to a + fortune-hunter, and that his girl should not be left in a way to be duped. + </p> + <p> + As to his daughter’s education, that was an affair in which he did not + interfere: all that he wished was, that the girl should be kept humble, + and have no fine notions put into her head, nor any communication with + fine people. He kept company only with men of his own sort; and as he had + no taste for any kind of literature, Almeria’s time would have hung rather + heavy upon her hands, had she been totally confined to his society: but, + fortunately for her, there lived in the neighbourhood an elderly gentleman + and his daughter, whom her father allowed her to visit. Mr. Elmour was a + country gentleman of a moderate fortune, a respectable family, and of a + most amiable character: between his daughter Ellen and Miss Turnbull there + had subsisted an intimacy from their earliest childhood. The professions + of this friendship had hitherto been much the warmest on the part of + Almeria; the proofs were, perhaps, the strongest on the side of Ellen. + Miss Elmour, as the daughter of a gentleman, whose family had been long + settled in the country, was rather <i>more considered</i> than Miss + Turnbull, who was the daughter of a grazier, whose money had but lately + raised him to the level of gentility. At Mr. Elmour’s house Almeria had an + opportunity of being in much better company than she could ever have seen + at her father’s; better company in every respect, but chiefly in the + popular, or more properly in the aristocratic sense of the term: her + visits had consequently been long and frequent; she appeared to have a + peculiar taste for refinement in manners and conversation, and often + deplored the want she felt of these at home. She expressed a strong desire + to acquire information, and to improve herself in every elegant + accomplishment; and Ellen, who was of a character far superior to the + little meanness of female competition and jealousy, shared with her friend + all the advantages of her situation. Old Hodgkinson never had any books in + his house, but such as Almeria borrowed from Mr. Elmour’s library. Ellen + constantly sent Miss Turnbull all the new publications which her father + got from town—she copied for her friend the new music with which she + was supplied, showed her every new drawing or print, gave her the + advantage of the lessons she received from an excellent drawing master, + and let her into those little mysteries of art which masters sometimes + sell so dear. + </p> + <p> + This was done with perfect readiness and simplicity: Ellen never seemed + conscious that she was bestowing a favour; but appeared to consider what + she did as matters of course, or as the necessary consequences of + friendship. She treated her friend at all times, and in all companies, + with that uniform attention and equality of manner, which most people + profess, and which so few have strength of mind to practise. Almeria + expressed, and probably at this time felt, unbounded gratitude and + affection for Ellen; indeed her expressions were sometimes so vehement, + that Miss Elmour rallied her for being romantic. Almeria one day declared, + that she should wish to pass all the days of her life at Elmour Grove, + without seeing any other human creatures but her friend and her friend’s + father. + </p> + <p> + “Your imagination deceives you, my dear Almeria,” said Ellen, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “It is my heart, not my imagination, that speaks,” said Almeria, laying + her hand upon her heart, or upon the place where she fancied her heart + ought to be. + </p> + <p> + “Your understanding will, perhaps, speak a different language by and by, + and your heart will not be the worse for it, my good young lady,” said old + Mr. Elmour. + </p> + <p> + Almeria persisted even to tears; and it was not till young Mr. Elmour came + home, and till she had spent a few weeks in his company, that she began to + admit that three was the number sacred to friendship. Frederick Elmour was + a man of honour, talents, spirit, and of a decided character: he was + extremely fond of his sister, and was prepossessed in favour of every + thing and person that she loved. Her intimate friend was consequently + interesting to him; and it must be supposed, that Miss Elmour’s praises of + Almeria were managed more judiciously than eulogiums usually are, by the + effect which they produced. Frederick became attached to Miss Turnbull, + though he perceived that, in firmness and dignity of character, she was + not equal to his sister. This inferiority did not injure her in his + opinion, because it was always acknowledged with so much candour and + humility by Almeria, who seemed to look up to her friend as to a being of + a superior order. This freedom from envy, and this generous enthusiasm, + first touched young Mr. Elmour’s heart. Next to possessing his sister’s + virtues and talents, loving them was, in his opinion, the greatest merit. + He thought that a person capable of appreciating and admiring Ellen’s + character, must be desirous of imitating her; and the similarity of their + tastes, opinions, and principles, seemed to him the most secure pledge for + his future happiness. Miss Turnbull’s fortune, whatever it might be, was + an object of no great importance to him: his father, though not opulent, + was in easy circumstances, and was “willing,” he said, “to deprive himself + of some luxuries for the sake of his son, whom he would not controul in + the choice of a wife—a choice on which he knew, from his own + experience, that the happiness of life so much depends.” + </p> + <p> + The benevolent old gentleman had peculiar merit in this conduct; because + if he had a weakness in the world, it was a prejudice in favour of what is + called <i>good family and birth</i>: it had long been the secret wish of + his heart that his only son might marry into a family as ancient as his + own. Frederick was fully sensible of the sacrifice that his father made of + his pride: but that which he was willing to make of what he called his + luxuries, his son’s affection and sense of justice forbade him to accept. + He could not rob his father of any of the comforts of his declining years, + whilst in the full vigour of youth it was in his power, by his own + exertions, to obtain an independent maintenance. He had been bred to the + bar; no expense had been spared by his father in his education, no efforts + had been omitted by himself. He was now ready to enter on the duties of + his profession with ardour, but without presumption. + </p> + <p> + Our heroine must be pardoned by the most prudent, and admired by the most + romantic, for being desperately in love with a youth of such a character + and such expectations. Whilst the young lady’s passion was growing every + hour more lively, her old father was growing every hour more lethargic. He + had a superstitious dread of making a will, as if it were a preparation + for death, which would hasten the fatal moment. Hodgkinson’s friends tried + to conquer this prejudice: but it was in vain to reason with a man who had + never reasoned during the whole of his life about any thing except + bullocks. Old Hodgkinson died—that was a matter of no great + consequence to any body—but he died without a will, and that was a + matter of some importance to his daughter. After searching in every + probable and improbable place, there was, at length, found in his own + handwriting a memorandum, the beginning of which was in the first leaf of + his cookery-book, and the end in the last leaf of his prayer-book. There + was some difficulty in deciphering the memorandum, for it was cross-barred + with miscellaneous observations in inks of various colours—red, + blue, and green. As it is dangerous to garble law papers, we shall lay the + document before the public just as it appeared. + </p> + <p> + <i>Copy from first leaf of the Cookery-look</i>. + </p> + <p> + I John Hodgkinson of Vetch-field, East Riding of Yorkshire, Grazier and so + forth, not choosing to style myself Gentleman, though entitled so to do, + do hereby certify, that when I can find an honest attorney, <i>it is my</i> + intention to make my will and to leave— + </p> + <p> + [<i>Here the testator’s memorandum was interrupted by a receipt in a + diminutive female hand, seemingly written some years before</i>.] + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Turnbull’s recipe, infallible for all aches, bruises, and strains. + </p> + <p> + Take a handful of these herbs following—Wormwood, Sage, + Broom-flowers, Clown’s-All-heal, Chickweed, Cumphry, Birch, Groundsell, + Agremony, Southernwood, Ribwort, Mary Gould leaves, Bramble, Rosemary, + Rue, Eldertops, Camomile, Aly Campaigne-root, half a handful of Red + Earthworms, two ounces of Cummins-seeds, Deasy-roots, Columbine, Sweet + Marjoram, Dandylion, Devil’s bit, six pound of May butter, two pound of + Sheep suet, half a pound of Deer suet, a quart of salet oil beat well in + y’ boiling till the oil be green—Then strain—It will be better + if you add a dozen of Swallows, and pound all their Feathers, Gizzards, + and Heads before boiling—It will cure all aches—<a + href="#linknote-9" name="linknoteref-9" id="linknoteref-9"><small>9</small></a> + </p> + <p> + [<i>Beneath this valuable recipe, Mr. Hodgkinson’s testamentary + dispositions continued as follows</i>.] + </p> + <p> + All I am worth in the world real or personal— + </p> + <p> + To Collar a Pig. + </p> + <p> + Take a young fat pig, and when he is well scalded, cut off his head, then + slit him down the back, take out his bones, lay him in a dish of milk and + water, and shift him twice a day—for the rest, turn to page 103. + </p> + <p> + To my step-daughter Almeria, who is now at Elmour Grove in her eighteenth + year— + </p> + <p> + [<i>Written across the above in red ink</i>.] + </p> + <p> + Mem’m—I prophecy this third day of August, that the man from Hull + will be here to-morrow with <i>fresh</i> mullets. + </p> + <p> + And as girls go, I believe a good girl, considering the times—but if + she disoblige me by marriage, or otherwise, I hereby revoke the same. + </p> + <p> + [<i>Written diagonally in red ink</i>.] + </p> + <p> + Mem’m—Weight of the Big Bullock, 90 score, besides offal. + </p> + <p> + [<i>The value was so pale it could not be deciphered</i>.] + </p> + <p> + And I further intend to except out of my above bequest to my daughter + Almeria, the sum of ... + </p> + <p> + A fine method to make Punch of Valentia dram. v. page 7. + </p> + <p> + Ten thousand pounds, now in Sir Thomas Stock’s my banker’s hands as a + token of remembrance to John Hodgkinson of Hull, on account of his being + my namesake, and, I believe, relation— + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + [<i>Continuation in the last leaf of the prayer-book</i>.] + </p> + <p> + It is my further intention (whenever I find said honest attorney fit for + my will) to leave sundry mourning rings with my hair value (<i>blank</i>)—one + in particular to Charles Elmour, sen. esquire, and also— + </p> + <p> + [<i>Upside down, in red ink</i>.] + </p> + <p> + Mem’m—Yorkshire Puddings—Knox says good in my case. + </p> + <p> + Hodgkinson late Hannah A Turnbull (my wife) her prayer book, born Dec’r + 5th, 1700, died Jan’y 4th, 1760; leaving only behind her, in this world, + Almeria Turnbull (my step daughter). + </p> + <p> + Also another mourning ring to Frederick, the son of Charles Elmour, Esq. + and ditto to Ellen his daughter, if I have hair enough under my wig. + </p> + <p> + [<i>Diagonal in red ink</i>.] + </p> + <p> + Mem’m—To know from Dr. Knox by return of post what is good against + sleep—in my case— + </p> + <p> + This is the short of my will—the attorney (when found) will make it + long enough.—And I hereby declare, that I will write no other will + with my own hand, for man, woman, or child—And that I will and do + hereby disinherit any person or persons—male or female—good—bad—or + indifferent—who shall take upon them to advise or speak to me about + making or writing my will—which is no business of theirs—This + my last resolution and memorandum, dated, this 5th of August—reap + to-morrow, (glass rising)—1766, and signed with my own hand, same + time. + </p> + <p> + John Hodgkinson, grazier & so forth. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Now it happened, that Mr. Hodgkinson’s namesake and relation disdained the + ten thousand pounds legacy, and claimed the whole property as heir-at-law. + Almeria, who was utterly unacquainted with business, applied to Mr. Elmour + in this difficulty, and he had the goodness to undertake the management of + her affairs. Frederick engaged to carry on her law-suit, and to plead her + cause against this rapacious Mr. Hodgkinson of Hull.—Whilst the suit + was pending, Miss Turnbull had an opportunity of seeing something of the + ways of the world; for the manners of her Yorkshire acquaintance, of all + but Ellen and the Elmours, varied towards her, according to the opinion + formed of the probable event of the trial on which her fortune depended. + She felt these variations most keenly. In particular, she was provoked by + the conduct of Lady Stock, who was at this time <i>the</i> fashionable + lady of York: Sir Thomas, her husband, was a great banker; and whenever + she condescended to visit her friends in the country, she shone upon them + in all the splendour and pride of wealth. Miss Turnbull, immediately after + her father’s death, went, accompanied by old Mr. Elmour, to Sir Thomas + Stock, to settle accounts with him: she was received by his lady as a + great heiress, with infinite civility; her visit punctually returned, and + an invitation to dinner sent to her and the Elmours with all due + expedition. As she seemed to wish to accept of it, her friends agreed to + accompany her, though in general they disliked fine dinners; and though + they seldom left their retirement to mix in the gaieties of York. Miss + Turnbull was received in rather a different manner from what she expected + upon this occasion; for between the sending and the accepting of the + invitation, Lady Stock had heard that her title to the fortune was + disputed, and that many were of an opinion that, instead of having two + hundred thousand pounds, she would not have a shilling. Almeria was + scarcely noticed, on her entrance, by the lady of the house; she found + herself in a formidable circle, where every body seemed to consider her as + being out of her place. At dinner she was suffered to go to a side-table. + From the moment she entered the house till she left it, Lady Stock never + deigned to speak to her, nor for one instant to recollect that such a + person existed. Not even Madame Roland, when she was sent to the second + table at the fermier general’s, expressed more indignation than Almeria + did, at the insolence of this banker’s lady. She could think and speak of + nothing else, all the time she was going home in the evening to Elmour + Grove. Ellen, who had more philosophy than our heroine, did not sympathize + in the violence of her indignation: on the contrary, she was surprised + that Almeria could feel so much hurt by the slights of a woman, for whom + she had neither esteem nor affection, and with whom she was indeed + scarcely acquainted. + </p> + <p> + “But does not her conduct excite your indignation?” said Miss Turnbull. + </p> + <p> + “No: it rather deserves my contempt. If a friend—if you, for + instance, had treated me in such a manner, it would have provoked my + anger, I dare say.” + </p> + <p> + “I! Oh, how impossible!” cried Almeria. “Such insufferable pride! Such + downright rudeness!—She was tolerably civil to you, but me she never + noticed: and this sudden change, it seems, Frederick, arises from her + doubts of my fortune.—Is not such meanness really astonishing?” + </p> + <p> + “It would be astonishing, perhaps,” replied Frederick, “if we did not see + similar instances every day.—Lady Stock, you know, is nothing but a + mere woman of the world.” + </p> + <p> + “I hate mere women of the world,” cried Almeria. + </p> + <p> + Ellen observed, that it was not worth while to hate, it was sufficient to + avoid them.—Almeria grew warmer in her abhorrence; and Ellen at last + expressed, half in jest, half in earnest, some fear, that if Miss Turnbull + felt with such exquisite sensibility the neglect of persons of fashion, + she might in a different situation be ambitious, or vain of their favour. + Almeria was offended, and was very near quarrelling with her friend for + harbouring such a mean opinion of her character. + </p> + <p> + “Do you imagine that <i>I could</i> ever make a friend of such a person as + Lady Stock?” + </p> + <p> + “A friend! far from it. I am very sure that you could not.” + </p> + <p> + “Then how could I be ambitious of her favour? I am desirous only of the + favour, esteem, and affection of my friends.” + </p> + <p> + “But people who live in what is called the world, you know, my dear + Almeria, desire to have acquaintance as well as friends,” said Ellen; “and + they value those by their fashion or rank, and by the honour which may be + received from their notice in public places.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my dear,” interrupted Almeria; “though I have never been in London, + as you have, I understand all that perfectly well, I assure you; but I + only say, that I am certain I should never judge, and that I should never + act, in such a manner.” + </p> + <p> + Ellen smiled, and said, “It is difficult to be certain of what we should + do in situations in which we have never been placed.”—Almeria burst + into tears, and her friend could scarcely pacify her by the kindest + expressions. + </p> + <p> + “Observe, my dear Almeria, that I said <i>we,</i> not <i>you</i>: I do not + pretend that, till I have been tried, I could be certain of my own + strength of mind in new situations: I believe it is from weakness, that + people are often so desirous of the notice of persons for whom they have + no esteem. If I were forced to live among a certain set of company, I + suppose I should, in time, do just as they do; for I confess, that I do + not think I could bear every day to be utterly neglected in society, even + such as we have been in to-day.” + </p> + <p> + Almeria wondered to hear her friend speak with so little confidence of her + own spirit and independence; and vehemently declared that she was certain + no change of external circumstances could make any alteration in her + sentiments and feelings. Ellen forbore to press the subject farther, + although the proofs which Almeria had this day given of her stoicism were + not absolutely conclusive. + </p> + <p> + About a month after this conversation had passed, the suit against Miss + Turnbull, to set aside Mr. Hodgkinson’s will, was tried at York. The court + was crowded at an early hour; for much entertainment was expected, from + the oddity of old Hodgkinson’s <i>testamentary dispositions</i>: besides, + the large amount of the property at stake could not fail to make the cause + interesting. Several ladies appeared in the galleries; among the rest, + Lady Stock—Miss Elmour was there also, to accompany Almeria—Frederick + was one of her counsel; and when it came to his turn to speak, he pleaded + her cause with so much eloquence and ability, as to obtain universal + approbation. After a trial, which lasted many hours, a verdict was given + in Miss Turnbull’s favour. An immediate change appeared in the manners of + all her acquaintance—they crowded round her with smiles and + congratulations; and persons with whom she was scarcely acquainted, or who + had, till now, hardly deigned to acknowledge her acquaintance, accosted + her with an air of intimacy. Lady Stock, in particular, recovered, upon + this occasion, both her sight and speech: she took Almeria’s hand most + graciously, and went on chattering with the greatest volubility, as they + stood at the door of the court-house. Her ladyship’s handsome equipage had + drawn up, and she offered to carry Miss Turnbull home: Almeria excused + herself, but felt ashamed, when she saw the look of contempt which her + ladyship bestowed on Mr. Elmour’s old coach, which was far behind a number + of others, and which could but ill bear a comparison with a new London + carriage. Angry with herself for this weakness, our heroine endeavoured to + conceal it even from her own mind; and feelings of gratitude to her + friends revived in her heart the moment she was out of the sight of her + fine acquaintance. She treated Ellen with even more than usual fondness; + and her acknowledgments of obligation to her counsel and his father were + expressed in the strongest terms. In a few days, there came a pressing + invitation from Lady Stock; Mr. Elmour had accounts of Miss Turnbull’s to + settle with Sir Thomas, and, notwithstanding the air of indifference with + which she read the cards, Almeria was not sorry to accept of the + invitation, as she knew that she should be received in a very different + manner from that in which she had been treated on her former visit. She + laughed, and said, “that she should be entertained by observing the change + which a few thousand pounds more or less could produce in Lady Stock’s + behaviour.” Yet, such is the inconsistency or the weakness of human + wishes, that the very attentions which our heroine knew were paid merely + to her fortune, and not to her merit, flattered her vanity; and she + observed, with a strange mixture of pain and pleasure, that there was a + marked difference in Lady Stock’s manner towards her and <i>the Elmours</i>. + When the evening was over, and when she “had leisure to be good,” Almeria + called herself severely to account for this secret satisfaction, of which + she had been conscious from the preference given her over her friends—she + accused herself of ingratitude, and endeavoured to recover her own + self-complacency by redoubled professions of esteem and affection for + those to whom she had so much reason to be attached. But fresh invitations + came from Lady Stock, and the course of her thoughts again changed. Ellen + declined accompanying her; and Miss Turnbull regretted this exceedingly, + because it would be so distressing and awkward for her to go <i>alone</i>. + </p> + <p> + “Then why do you go at all, my dear?” said Ellen; “you speak as if there + were some moral necessity for your visit.” + </p> + <p> + “Moral necessity! oh, no,” said Almeria, laughing; “but I really think + there is a <i>polite</i> necessity, if you will allow me the expression. + Would it not be rude for all of us to refuse, when Lady Stock has made + this music party, as she says, entirely on my account—on our + account, I mean? for you see she mentions your fondness for music; and if + she had not written so remarkably civilly to you, I assure you I would + neither go myself, nor think of pressing you to go.” + </p> + <p> + This oratory had no effect upon Ellen: our heroine went alone to the music + meeting. The old coach returned to Elmour Grove at night, empty—the + servant brought “Lady Stock’s compliments, and she would send her carriage + home with Miss Turnbull early the next morning.” After waiting above an + hour and a half beyond their usual time, the family were sitting down to + dinner the next day, when Miss Turnbull, in Lady Stock’s fine carriage, + drove up the avenue—Frederick handed her out of the carriage with + more ceremony and less affection than he had ever shown before. Old Mr. + Elmour’s manner was also more distant, and Ellen’s colder. Almeria + attempted to apologize, but could not get through her speech:—she + then tried to laugh at her own awkwardness; but her laugh not being + seconded, she sat down to dinner in silence, colouring prodigiously, and + totally abashed. Good old Mr. Elmour was the first to relent, and to + endeavour, by resuming his usual kind familiarity, to relieve her painful + confusion. Ellen’s coolness was also dissipated when Miss Turnbull took + her aside after dinner, and with tears in her eyes declared, “she was + sorry she had not had sufficient strength of mind to resist Lady Stock’s + importunities to stay all night;—that as to the carriage, it was + sent back without her knowledge; and that this morning, though she had + three or four times expressed her fears that she should keep her friends + at Elmour Grove waiting for dinner, yet Lady Stock would not understand + her hints;” and she declared, “she got away the very instant her + ladyship’s carriage came to the door.” By Ellen’s kind interposition, + Frederick, whose pride had been most ready to take the alarm at the least + appearance of slight to his father and sister, was pacified—he laid + aside his ceremony to <i>Miss Turnbull</i>; called her “Almeria,” as he + used to do—and all was well again. With difficulty and blushes, + Almeria came out with an after-confession, that she had been so silly as + to make half a promise to Lady Stock, of going to her ball, and of + spending a few days with her at York, before she left the country. + </p> + <p> + “But this promise was only conditional,” said she: “if you or your father + would take it the least ill or unkindly of me, I assure you I will not go—I + would rather offend all the Lady Stocks in the world than you, my dearest + Ellen, or your father, to whom I am so much obliged.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not talk of obligations,” interrupted Ellen; “amongst friends there + can be no obligations. I will answer for it that my father will not be + offended at your going to this ball; and I assure you I shall not take it + unkindly. If you would not think me very proud, I should tell you that I + wish for our sakes, as well as your own, that you should see as much of + this Lady Stock, and as many <i>Lady Stocks</i>, as possible; for I am + convinced that, upon <i>intimate</i> acquaintance, we must rise in your + opinion.” + </p> + <p> + Almeria protested that she had never for an instant thought of comparing + Ellen with Lady Stock. “A friend, a bosom friend, with an acquaintance—an + acquaintance of yesterday!—I never thought of making such a + comparison.” + </p> + <p> + “That is the very thing of which I complain,” said Ellen, smiling: “I beg + you will make the comparison, my dear Almeria; and the more opportunities + you have of forming your judgment, the better.” + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding that there was something rather humiliating to Miss + Turnbull in the dignified composure with which Ellen now, for the first + time in her life, implied her own superiority, Almeria secretly rejoiced + that it was at her friend’s own request that the visits to her fine + acquaintance were repeated. At Lady Stock’s ball Miss Turnbull was much <i>distinguished,</i> + as it is called—Sir Thomas’s eldest son was her partner; and though + he was not remarkably agreeable, yet his attentions were flattering to her + vanity, because the rival belles of York vied for his homage. The delight + of being taken notice of in public was new to Almeria, and it quite + intoxicated her brain. Six hours’ sleep afterwards were not sufficient to + sober her completely; as her friends at Elmour Grove perceived the next + morning—she neither talked, looked, nor moved like herself, though + she was perfectly unconscious that in this delirium of vanity and + affectation she was an object of pity and disgust to the man she loved. + </p> + <p> + Ellen had sufficient good-nature and candour to make allowance for foibles + in others from which her own character was totally free; she was + clear-sighted to the merits, but not blind to the faults, of her friends; + and she resolved to wait patiently till Almeria should return to herself. + Miss Turnbull, in compliance with her friend’s advice, took as many + opportunities as possible of being with Lady Stock. Her ladyship’s company + was by no means agreeable to Almeria’s natural taste; for her ladyship had + neither sense nor knowledge, and her conversation consisted merely of + common-place phrases, or the second-hand affectation of fashionable + nonsense: yet, though Miss Turnbull felt no actual pleasure in her + company, she was vain of being of her parties, and even condescended to + repeat some of her sayings, in which there was neither sense nor wit. From + having lived much in the London world, her ladyship was acquainted with a + prodigious number of names of persons of consequence and quality; and by + these our heroine’s ears were charmed. Her ladyship’s dress was also an + object of admiration and imitation, and the York ladies begged patterns of + every thing she wore. Almeria consequently thought that no other clothes + could be worn with propriety; and she was utterly ashamed of her past self + for having lived so long in ignorance, and for having had so bad a taste, + as ever to have thought Ellen Elmour a model for imitation. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Elmour,” her ladyship said, “was a very sensible young woman, no + doubt; but she could hardly be considered as a model of fashion.” + </p> + <p> + A new standard for estimating merit was raised in Almeria’s mind; and her + friend, for an instant, sunk before the vast advantage of having the most + fashionable mantua-maker and milliner in town. Ashamed of this dereliction + of principle, she a few minutes afterwards warmly pronounced a panegyric + on Ellen, to which Lady Stock only replied with a vacant, supercilious + countenance, “May be so—no doubt—of course—the Elmours + are a very respectable family, I’m told—and really more genteel than + the country families one sees: but is not it odd, they don’t <i>mix more?</i> + One seldom meets them in town any where, or at any of the watering-places + in summer.” + </p> + <p> + To this charge, Almeria, with blushes, was forced to plead guilty for her + friends: she, however, observed, in mitigation, “that when they were in + town, what company they did see was always the best, she believed—that + she knew, for one person, the Duchess of A—— was a friend of + the Elmours, and corresponded with Ellen.” + </p> + <p> + This judicious defence produced an immediate effect upon Lady Stock’s + countenance; her eyebrows descended from the high arch of contempt: and + after a pause, she remarked, “it was strange that they had not accepted of + any of the invitations she had lately sent them—she fancied they + were, as indeed they had the character of being, very proud people—and + very odd.” + </p> + <p> + Almeria denied the pride and the oddity; but observed, “that they were all + remarkably fond of <i>home</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear Miss Turnbull, that’s what I call odd; but I am sure I have + nothing to say against all that—it is the fashion now to let every + body do as they please: if the Elmours like to bury themselves alive, I’m + sure I can’t have the smallest objection; I only hope they don’t insist + upon burying you along with them—I’m going to Harrowgate for a few + days, and I must have you with me, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + Our heroine hesitated. Lady Stock smiled, and said, she saw Miss Turnbull + was terribly afraid of these Elmours; that for her part, she was the last + person in the world to break through old connexions; but that really some + people ought to consider that other people cannot always live as they do; + that one style of life was fit for one style of fortune, and one for + another; and that it would look very strange to the world, if an heiress + with two hundred thousand pounds fortune, who if she produced herself + might be in the first circles in town, were to be boxed up at Elmour + Grove, and precluded from all advantages and offers that she might of + course expect. + </p> + <p> + To do our heroine justice, she here interrupted Lady Stock with more + eagerness than strict politeness admitted, and positively declared that + her friends never for one moment wished to confine her at Elmour Grove. + “On the contrary,” said she, “they urged me to go into company, and to see + something of the world, before I—” marry, she was going to say—but + paused. + </p> + <p> + Lady Stock waited for the finishing word; but when it did not come, she + went on just as if it had been pronounced. “The Elmours do vastly right + and proper to talk to you in this style, for they would be very much + blamed in the world if they acted otherwise. You know, young Elmour has + his fortune to make—very clever certainly he is, and will rise—no + doubt—I’m told—in his profession—but all that is not the + same as a ready-made fortune, which an heiress like you has a right to + expect. But do not let me annoy you with my reflections. Perhaps there is + nothing in the report—I really only repeat what I hear every body + say. In what every body says, you know there must be something. I + positively think you ought to show, in justice to the Elmours themselves, + that you are at liberty, and that they do not want to monopolize you—in + this unaccountable sort of way.” + </p> + <p> + To this last argument our heroine yielded, or to this she chose to + attribute her yielding. She went to Harrowgate with Lady Stock; and every + day and every hour she became more desirous of appearing fashionable. To + this one object all her thoughts were directed. Living in public was to + her a new life, and she was continually sensible of her dependence upon + the opinion of her more experienced companion. She felt the <i>awkwardness</i> + of being surrounded by people with whom she was unacquainted. At first, + whenever she appeared she imagined that every body was looking at her, or + talking about her, and she was in perpetual apprehension that something in + her dress or manners should become the subject of criticism or ridicule: + but from this fear she was soon relieved, by the conviction that most + people were so occupied with themselves as totally to overlook her. + Sometimes indeed she heard the whispered question of “Who is that with + Lady Stock?” and the mortifying answer, “I do not know.” However, when + Lady Stock had introduced her to some of her acquaintance as a great + heiress, the scene changed, and she found herself treated with much <i>consideration</i>; + though still the fashionable belles took sufficient care to make her + sensible of her inferiority. She longed to be upon an equal footing with + them. Whilst her mind was in this state, Sir Thomas Stock, one morning, + when he was settling some money business with her, observed that she would + in another year be of age, and of course would take her affairs into her + own hands; but in the mean time it would be necessary to appoint a + guardian; and that the choice depended upon herself. She instantly named + her friend Mr. Elmour. Sir Thomas insinuated that old Mr. Elmour, though + undoubtedly a most unexceptionable character, was not exactly the most + eligible person for a guardian to a young lady, whose large fortune + entitled her to live in a fashionable style. That if it was Miss + Turnbull’s intention to fix in the country, Mr. Elmour certainly was upon + the spot, and a very fit guardian; but that if she meant to appear, as + doubtless she would, in town, she would of course want another conductor. + </p> + <p> + “To cut the matter short at once, my dear,” said Lady Stock, “you must + come to town with me next winter, and choose Sir Thomas for your guardian. + I’m sure it will give him the greatest pleasure in the world to do any + thing in his power—and you will have no difficulties with him; for + you see he is not a man to bore you with all manner of advice; in short, + he would only be your guardian for form’s sake; and that, you know, would + be the pleasantest footing imaginable. Come, here is a pen and ink and + gilt paper; write to old Elmour this minute, and let me have you all to + myself.” + </p> + <p> + Almeria was taken by surprise: she hesitated—all her former + professions, all her obligations to the Elmour family, recurred to her + mind—her friendship for Ellen—her love, or what she had + thought love, for Frederick:—she could not decide upon a measure + that might offend them, or appear ungrateful; yet her desire of going to + town with Lady Stock was ardent, and she knew not how to refuse Sir + Thomas’s offer without displeasing him. She saw that all future connexion + with <i>the Stocks</i> depended on her present determination—she + took a middle course, and suggested that she might have two guardians, and + then she should be able to avail herself of Sir Thomas’s obliging offer + without offending her old friends. In consequence of this convenient + arrangement, she wrote to Mr. Elmour, enclosing her letter in one to + Ellen, in which the embarrassment and weakness of her mind were evident, + notwithstanding all her endeavours to conceal them. After a whole page of + incomprehensible apologies, for having so long delayed to write to her + dearest Ellen; and after professions of the warmest affection, esteem, and + gratitude, for her friends at Elmour Grove; she in the fourth page of her + epistle opened her real business, by declaring that she should ever, from + the conviction she felt of the superiority of Ellen’s understanding, + follow her judgment, however repugnant it might sometimes be to her + inclinations; that she therefore had resolved, in pursuance of Ellen’s + advice, to take an opportunity of seeing the gay world, and had accepted + of an invitation from Lady Stock to spend the winter with her in town—that + she had also accepted of Sir Thomas Stock’s offer to become one of her + guardians, as she thought it best to trouble her good friend Mr. Elmour as + little as possible at his advanced age. + </p> + <p> + In answer to this letter, she received a few lines from Mr. Elmour, + requesting to see her before she should go to town: accordingly upon her + return to York, she went to Elmour Grove to take leave of her friends. She + was under some anxiety, but resolved to carry it off with that ease, or + affectation of ease, which she had learnt during her six weeks’ + apprenticeship to a fine lady at Harrowgate. She was surprised that no + Frederick appeared to greet her arrival; the servant showed her into Mr. + Elmour’s study. The good old gentleman received her with that proud sort + of politeness, which was always the sign, and the only sign, of his being + displeased. + </p> + <p> + “You will excuse me, Miss Turnbull,” said he, “for giving you the trouble + of coming here; it was my business to have waited on you, but I have been + so far unwell lately, that it was not in my power to leave home; and these + are papers,” continued he, “which I thought it my duty to deliver into + your own hands.” + </p> + <p> + Whilst Mr. Elmour was tying up these papers, and writing upon them, + Almeria began two sentences with “I hope,” and “I am afraid,” without in + the least knowing what she hoped or feared. She was not yet sufficiently + perfect in the part of a fine lady to play it well. Mr. Elmour looked up + from his writing with an air of grave attention when she began to speak, + but after waiting in vain for an intelligible sentence, he proceeded. + </p> + <p> + “You have judged very wisely for me, Miss Turnbull, in relieving my + declining years from the fatigue of business: no man understands the + management or the value of money better than Sir Thomas Stock, and you + could not, madam, in this point of view, have chosen a more proper + guardian.” + </p> + <p> + Almeria said, “that she hoped Mr. Elmour would always permit her to + consider him as her best friend, to whose advice she should have recourse + in preference to that of any person upon earth;” recovering her assurance + as she went on speaking, and recollecting some of the hints Lady Stock had + given her, about the envy and jealousy of the Elmours, and of their scheme + of monopolizing her fortune; she added a few commonplace phrases about + respectability—gratitude—and great obligations—then gave + a glance at Lady Stock’s handsome carriage, which was waiting at the door—then + asked for Miss Elmour—and hoped she should not be so unfortunate as + to miss seeing her before she left the country, as she came on purpose to + take leave of her—then looked at her watch:—but all this was + said and done with the awkwardness of a novice in the art of giving + herself airs. Mr. Elmour, without being in the least irritated by her + manner, was all the time considering how he could communicate, with the + least possible pain, what he had further to say—“You speak of me, + Miss Turnbull, as of one of your guardians, in the letter I had the favour + of receiving from you a few days ago,” said he; “but you must excuse me + for declining that honour. Circumstances have altered materially since I + first undertook the management of your affairs, and my future + interference, or perhaps even my advice, might not appear as disinterested + as formerly.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Turnbull here interrupted him with an exclamation of astonishment, + and made many protestations of entire dependence upon his disinterested + friendship. He waited with proud patience till she had finished her + eulogium. + </p> + <p> + “How far the generous extent of your confidence, madam, reaches, or may + hereafter reach,” said he, “must be tried by others, not by me—nor + yet by my son.” + </p> + <p> + Almeria changed colour. + </p> + <p> + “He has left it to me, madam, to do that for him, which perhaps he feared + he might not have sufficient resolution to do for himself—to return + to you these letters and this picture; and to assure you that he considers + you as entirely at liberty to form any connexion that may be suited to + your present views and circumstances.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Elmour put into her hand a packet of her own letters to Frederick, and + a miniature picture of herself, which she had formerly given to her lover. + This was an unexpected stroke. His generosity—his firmness of + character—the idea of losing him for ever—all rushed upon her + mind at once. + </p> + <p> + Artificial manners vanish the moment the natural passions are touched. + Almeria clasped her hands in an agony of grief, and exclaimed, “Is he + gone? gone for ever?—I have deserved it!”—The letters and + picture fell from her hand, and she sunk back quite overpowered. When she + recovered, she found herself in the open air on a seat under Mr. Elmour’s + study windows, and Ellen beside her. + </p> + <p> + “Pity, forgive, and advise me, my dear, my best, my only real friend,” + said Almeria: “never did I want your advice so much as at this moment.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall have it, then, without reserve,” said Ellen, “and without fear + that it should be attributed to any unworthy motive. I could almost as + soon wish for my brother’s death as desire to see him united to any woman, + let her beauty and accomplishments be what they might, who had a mean or + frivolous character, such as could consider money as the greatest good, or + dissipation as the prime object of life. I am firmly persuaded, my dear + Almeria, that however you may be dazzled by the first view of what is + called fashionable life, you will soon see things as they really are, and + that you will return to your former tastes and feelings.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I am, I am returned to them!” cried Almeria; “I will write directly + to Lady Stock and to Sir Thomas, to tell them that I have changed my mind—only + prevail upon your father to be my guardian.” + </p> + <p> + “That is out of my power,” said Ellen; “and I think that it is much better + you should be as you are, left completely at liberty, and entirely + independent of us. I advise you, Almeria, to persist in your scheme of + spending the ensuing winter in town with Lady Stock—then you will + have an opportunity of comparing your own different feelings, and of + determining what things are essential to your happiness. If you should + find that the triumphs of fashion delight you more than the pleasures of + domestic life; pursue them—your fortune will put it in your power; + you will break no engagements; and you will have no reproaches to fear + from us. On the contrary, if you find that your happiness depends upon + friendship and love, and that the life we formerly led together is that + which you prefer, you will return to Elmour Grove, to your friend and your + lover, and your choice will not be that of romance, but of reason.” + </p> + <p> + It was with difficulty that Almeria, in her present fit of enthusiasm, + could be brought to listen to sober sense and true friendship. Her parting + from Ellen and Mr. Elmour cost her many tears, and she returned to her + fashionable friend with swollen eyes and a heavy heart. Her sorrow, + however, was soon forgotten in the bustle and novelty of a new situation. + Upon her arrival in London, fresh trains of ideas were quickly forced upon + her mind, which were as dissimilar as possible from those associated with + love, friendship, and Elmour Grove. At Sir Thomas Stock’s, every thing she + saw and heard served to remind, or rather to convince her, of the opulence + of the owner of the house. Here every object was estimated, not for its + beauty or elegance, but by its costliness. Money was the grand criterion, + by which the worth of animate and inanimate objects was alike decided. In + this society, the worship of the golden idol was avowed without shame or + mystery; and all who did not bow the knee to it were considered as + hypocrites or fools. Our heroine, possessed of two hundred thousand + pounds, could not fail to have a large share of incense—every thing + she said, or looked, was applauded in Sir Thomas Stock’s family; and she + would have found admiration delightful, if she had not suspected that her + fortune alone entitled her to all this applause. This was rather a + mortifying reflection. By degrees, however, her delicacy on this subject + abated; she learned philosophically to consider her fortune a thing so + immediately associated with herself as to form a part of her personal + merit. Upon this principle, she soon became vain of her wealth, and she + was led to overrate the consequence that riches bestow on their possessor. + </p> + <p> + In a capital city, such numerous claimants for distinction appear, with + beauty, birth, wit, fashion, or wealth to support their pretensions, that + the vanity of an individual, however clamorous, is immediately silenced, + if not humbled. When Miss Turnbull went into public, she was surprised by + the discovery of her own, nay even of Lady Stock’s insignificance. At York + her ladyship was considered as a personage high as human veneration could + look; but in London she was lost in a crowd of fellow-mortals. + </p> + <p> + It is, perhaps, from this sense of humiliation, that individuals combine + together, to obtain by their union that importance and self-complacency, + which separately they could never enjoy. Miss Turnbull observed, that a + numerous acquaintance was essential to those who lived much in public—that + the number of bows and curtsies, and the consequence of the persons by + whom they are given or received, is the measure of merit and happiness. + Nothing can be more melancholy than most places of public amusement, to + those who are strangers to the crowds which fill them. + </p> + <p> + Few people have such strength of mind as to be indifferent to the opinions + of numbers, even considered merely as numbers; hence those who live in + crowds, in fact surrender the power of thinking for themselves, either in + trifles or matters of consequence. Our heroine had imagined before she + came to town, that Lady Stock moved in the highest circle of fashion; but + she soon perceived that many of the people of rank who visited her + ladyship, and who partook of her sumptuous entertainments, thought they + condescended extremely whilst they paid this homage to wealth. + </p> + <p> + One night at the Opera, Almeria happened to be seated in the next box to + Lady Bradstone, a proud woman of high family, who considered all whose + genealogy could not vie in antiquity with her own as upstarts that ought + to be kept down. Her ladyship, either not knowing or not caring who was in + the next box to her, began to ridicule an entertainment which had been + given a few days before by Lady Stock. From her entertainment, the + transition was easy to her character, and to that of her whole family. + Young Stock was pronounced to have all the purse-proud self-sufficiency of + a banker, and all the pertness of a clerk; even his bow seemed as if it + came from behind the counter. + </p> + <p> + Till this moment Almeria had at least permitted, if not encouraged, this + gentleman’s assiduities; for she had hitherto seen him only in company + where he had been admired: his attentions, therefore, had been flattering + to her vanity. But things now began to appear in quite a different light: + she saw Mr. Stock in the point of view in which Lady Bradstone placed him; + and felt that she might be degraded, but could not be elevated, in the + ranks of fashion by such an admirer. She began to wish that she was not so + intimately connected with a family which was ridiculed for want of taste, + and whose wealth, as she now suspected, was their only ticket of + admittance into the society of the truly elegant. In the land of fashion, + “Alps on Alps arise;” and no sooner has the votary reached the summit of + one weary ascent than another appears higher still and more difficult of + attainment. Our heroine now became discontented in that situation, which + but a few months before had been the grand object of her ambition. + </p> + <p> + In the mean time, as Mr. Stock had not overheard Lady Bradstone’s + conversation at the Opera, and as he had a comfortably good opinion of + himself, he was sure that he was making a rapid progress in the lady’s + favour. He had of late seldom heard her mention any of her friends at + Elmour Grove; and he was convinced that her romantic attachment to + Frederick must have been conquered by his own superior address. Her + fortune was fully as agreeable to him as to his money-making father: the + only difference between them was, that he loved to squander, and his + father to hoard gold. Extravagance frequently produces premature avarice—young + Mr. Stock calculated Miss Turnbull’s fortune, weighed it against that of + every other young lady within the sphere of his attractions, found the + balance in her favour by some thousands, made his proposal in form, and + could not recover his astonishment, when he found himself in form + rejected. Sir Thomas and Lady Stock used all their influence in his + favour, but in vain: they concluded that Almeria’s passion for Frederick + Elmour was the cause of this refusal; and they directed their arguments + against the folly of marrying for love. Our heroine was at this time more + in danger of the folly of marrying for fashion: not that she had fixed her + fancy upon any man of fashion in particular, but she had formed an exalted + idea of the whole species—and she regretted that Frederick was not + in that magic circle in which all her hopes of happiness now centred. She + wrote kind letters to Miss Elmour, but each letter was written with + greater difficulty than the preceding; for she had lost all interest in + the occupations which formerly were so delightful. She and Ellen had now + few ideas in common; and her epistles dwindled into apologies for long + silence—promises of being a better correspondent in future—reasons + for breaking these promises—hopes of pardon, &c. Ellen, however, + continued steady in her belief that her friend would at last prove worthy + of her esteem, and of her brother’s love. The rejection of Mr. Stock, + which Almeria did not fail to mention, confirmed this favourable opinion. + </p> + <p> + When that gentleman was at length with some difficulty convinced that our + heiress had decided against him, his manners and those of his family + changed towards her from the extreme of civility to that of rudeness—they + spoke of her as a coquette and a jilt, and a person who gave herself very + extraordinary airs. She was vexed, and alarmed—and in her first + confusion and distress thought of retreating to her friends at Elmour + Grove. She wrote a folio sheet to Ellen, unlike her late apologetic + epistles, full of the feelings of her heart, and of a warm invective + against fashionable and interested <i>friends</i>. After a narrative of + her quarrel with the Stocks, she declared that she would immediately quit + her London acquaintance and return to her best friend. But the very day + after she had despatched this letter she changed her mind, and formed a + new idea of a <i>best friend</i>. + </p> + <p> + One morning she went with Lady Stock to a bookseller’s, whose shop served + as a fashionable <i>lounge</i>. Her ladyship valued books, like all other + things, in proportion to the money which they cost: she had no taste for + literature, but a great fancy for accumulating the most expensive + publications, which she displayed ostentatiously as part of the costly + furniture of her house. Whilst she was looking over some literary + luxuries, rich in all the elegance of hot-press and vellum binding, Lady + Bradstone and a party of her friends came into the room. She immediately + attracted and engrossed the attention of all present. Lady Stock turned + over the leaves of the fine books, and asked their prices; but she had the + mortification to perceive that she was an object rather of derision than + of admiration to the new comers. None are so easily put out of countenance + by airs, as those who are most apt to play them off on their inferiors. + Lady Stock bit her lips in evident embarrassment, and the awkwardness of + her distress increased the confidence and triumph of her adversary. She + had some time before provoked Lady Bradstone by giving a concert in + opposition to one of hers, and by engaging, at an enormous expense, a + celebrated performer for <i>her night</i>: hostilities had thenceforward + been renewed at every convenient opportunity, by the contending fair ones. + Lady Bradstone now took occasion loudly to lament her extreme poverty; and + she put this question to all her party, whether if they had it in their + power they should prefer having more money than taste, or more taste than + money? They were going to decide <i>par acclamation</i>, but her ladyship + insisted upon taking each vote separately, because this prolonged the + torments of her rival, who heard the preference of taste to money + reiterated half a dozen times over, with the most provoking variety of + insulting emphasis. Almeria’s sufferings during this scene were far more + poignant than those of the person against whom the ridicule was aimed: not + that she pitied Lady Stock—no; she would have rejoiced to have seen + her humbled to the dust, if she could have escaped all share in her + mortification: but as she appeared as her ladyship’s acquaintance, she + apprehended that she might be mistaken for her friend. An opportunity + offered of marking the difference. The bookseller asked Lady Stock if she + chose to put her name down in a list of subscribers to a new work. The + book, she saw, was to be dedicated to Lady Bradstone—and that was + sufficient to decide her against it. + </p> + <p> + She declared that she never supported such things either by her name or + her money; that for her part she was no politician; that she thought + female patriots were absurd and odious; and that she was glad none of that + description were of her acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + All this was plainly directed against Lady Bradstone, who was a zealous + patriot: her ladyship retorted, by some reflections equally keen, but + rather more politely expressed, each party addressing their inuendoes to + the bookseller, who afraid to disoblige either the rich or the + fashionable, preserved, as much as it was in the power of his muscles, a + perfectly neutral countenance. At last, in order to relieve himself from + his constraint, he betook himself to count the subscribers, and Miss + Turnbull seized this moment to desire that her name might be added to the + list. Lady Bradstone’s eyes were immediately fixed upon her with + complacency—Lady Stock’s flashed fire. Regardless of their fire, + Almeria coolly added, “Twelve copies, sir, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + “Twelve copies, Miss Turnbull, at a guinea a-piece! Lord bless me, do you + know what you are about, my dear?” said Lady Stock. + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly well,” replied our heroine; “I think twelve guineas, or twenty + times that sum, would be well bestowed in asserting independence of + sentiment, which I understand is the object of this work.” + </p> + <p> + A whisper from Lady Bradstone to one of the shopmen, of “Who is that + charming woman?” gave our heroine courage to pronounce these words. Lady + Stock in great displeasure walked to her carriage, saying, “You are to + consider what you will do with your twelve copies, Miss Turnbull; for I am + convinced your guardian will never let such a parcel of inflammatory trash + into his house: he admires female patriotism, and <i>all that sort of + thing</i>, as little as I do.” + </p> + <p> + The rudeness of this speech did not disconcert Almeria; for she was + fortified by the consciousness that she had gained her point with Lady + Bradstone. This lady piqued herself upon showing her preferences and + aversions with equal enthusiasm and <i>éclat</i>. She declared before a + large company at dinner, that notwithstanding Miss Turnbull was <i>nobody</i> + by birth, she had made herself <i>somebody</i> by spirit; and that for her + part, she should, contrary to her general principle, which she confessed + was to keep a strong line of demarcation between nobility and mobility, + take a pride in bringing forward merit even in the shape of a Yorkshire + grazier’s daughter. + </p> + <p> + Pursuant to this gracious declaration, she empowered a common friend to + introduce Miss Turnbull to her, on the first opportunity. When people + really wish to become acquainted with each other, opportunities are easily + and quickly found. The parties met, to their mutual satisfaction, that + very night in the waiting-room of the Opera-house, and conversed more in + five minutes than people in town usually converse in five months or years, + when it is their wish to keep on a merely civil footing. But this was not + the footing on which Miss Turnbull desired to be with Lady Bradstone; she + took the utmost pains to please, and succeeded. She owed her success + chiefly to the dexterous manner in which she manifested her contempt for + her late dear friend Lady Stock. Her having refused an alliance with the + family was much in her favour; her ladyship admired her spirit, but little + suspected that the contemptuous manner in which she had once been + overheard to speak of this <i>banker’s son</i> was the real and immediate + cause of his rejection. The phrase—“<i>only</i> Stock the banker’s + son”—decided his fate: so much may be done by the mere emphasis on a + single word from fashionable lips! Our heroine managed with considerable + address in bringing her quarrel with one friend to a crisis at the moment + when another was ready to receive her. An ostensible pretext is never + wanting to those who are resolved on war. The book to which Miss Turnbull + had subscribed was the pretext upon this occasion: nothing could be more + indifferent to her than politics; but Lady Bradstone’s party and + principles were to be defended at all events. Sir Thomas Stock protested + that he might be hurt essentially in the opinion of those for whom he had + the highest consideration if a young lady living under his roof, known to + be his ward, and probably presumed to be guided by him, should put her + name as subscriber to twelve copies of a work patronized by Lady + Bradstone. “The mere circumstance of its being dedicated to her ladyship + showed what it <i>must</i> be,” Sir Thomas observed; and he made it a + point with Miss Turnbull that she should withdraw her name from the + subscription. This Miss Turnbull absolutely refused. Lady Bradstone was + her confidante upon the occasion, and half-a-dozen notes a day passed + between them: at length the affair was brought to the long wished-for + crisis. Lady Bradstone invited Miss Turnbull to her house, feeling + herself, as she said, bound in honour to <i>bear her out</i> in a dispute + of which she had been the original occasion. In this lady’s society + Almeria found the style of dress, manners, and conversation, different + from what she had seen at Lady Stock’s: she had without difficulty + imitated the affectation of Lady Stock, but there was an ease in the + decided tone of Lady Bradstone which could not be so easily acquired. + Having lived from her infancy in the best company, there was no + heterogeneous mixture in her manners; and the consciousness of this gave + an habitual air of security to her words, looks, and motions. Lady Stock + seemed forced to beg or buy—Lady Bradstone accustomed to command or + levy admiration as her rightful tribute. The pride of Lady Bradstone was + uniformly resolute, and successful; the insolence of Lady Stock, if it + were opposed, became cowardly and ridiculous. Lady Bradstone seemed to + have, on all occasions, an instinctive sense of what a person of fashion + ought to do; Lady Stock, notwithstanding her bravadoing air, was + frequently perplexed, and anxious, and therefore awkward: she had always + recourse to precedents. “Lady P—— said so, or Lady Q—— + did so; Lady G—— wore this, or Lady H—— was there, + and therefore I am sure it is proper.” + </p> + <p> + On the contrary, Lady Bradstone never quoted authorities, but presumed + that she was a precedent for others. The one was eager to follow, the + other determined to lead, the fashion. + </p> + <p> + Our heroine, who was by no means deficient in penetration, and whose whole + attention was now given to the study of externals, quickly perceived these + shades of difference between her late and her present friend. She + remarked, in particular, that she found herself much more at ease in Lady + Bradstone’s society. Her ladyship’s pride was not so offensive as Lady + Stock’s vanity: secure of her own superiority, Lady Bradstone did not want + to measure herself every instant with inferiors. She treated Almeria as + her equal in every respect; and in setting her right in points of fashion + never seemed to triumph, but to consider her own knowledge as a necessary + consequence of the life she had led from her infancy. With a sort of proud + generosity, she always considered those whom she honoured with her + friendship as thenceforward entitled to all the advantages of her own + situation, and to all the respect due to a part of herself. She now always + used the word <i>we</i>, with peculiar emphasis, in speaking of Miss + Turnbull and herself. This was a signal perfectly well understood by her + acquaintance. Almeria was received every where with the most distinguished + attention; and she was delighted, and absolutely intoxicated, with her + sudden rise in the world of fashion. She found that her former + acquaintance at Lady Stock’s were extremely ambitious of claiming an + intimacy; but this could not be done. Miss Turnbull had now acquired, by + practice, the power of looking at people without seeming to see them, and + of forgetting those with whom she was perfectly well acquainted. Her + opinion of her own consequence was much raised by the court that was paid + to her by several young men of fashion, who thought it expedient to marry + two hundred thousand pounds. + </p> + <p> + How quickly ambition extends her views! Our heroine’s highest object had + lately been to form an alliance with a man of fashion; she had now three + fashionable admirers in her train, but though she was flattered by their + attention, she had not the least inclination to decide in favour of any of + these candidates. The only young man of her present acquaintance who + seemed to be out of the reach of her power was Lord Bradstone; and upon + the conquest of his heart, or rather his pride, her fancy was fixed. He + had all his mother’s family pride, and he had been taught by her to expect + an alliance with a daughter of one of the first noble families in England. + The possibility of his marrying a grazier’s daughter had never entered + into his or Lady Bradstone’s thoughts: they saw, indeed, every day, + examples, among the first nobility, of such matches; but they saw them + with contempt. Almeria knew this, and yet she did not despair of success: + nor was she wrong in her calculations. Lord Bradstone was fond of high + play—his taste for gaming soon reduced him to distress—his + guardian was enraged, and absolutely refused to pay his lordship’s debts. + What was to be done?—He must extricate himself from his difficulties + by marrying some rich heiress. Miss Turnbull was the heiress nearest at + hand. Lord Bradstone’s pride was compelled to yield to his interest, and + he resolved to pay his addresses to the Yorkshire grazier’s daughter: but + he knew that his mother would be indignant at this idea; and he therefore + determined to proceed cautiously, and to assure himself of the young + lady’s approbation before he should brave his mother’s anger. + </p> + <p> + The winter was now passed, and her ladyship invited Miss Turnbull to + accompany her to Cheltenham;—her son was of the party. Our heroine + plainly understood his intentions, and her friendship for Lady Bradstone + did not prevent her from favouring his views: neither was she deterred by + her knowledge of his lordship’s taste for play, so ardent was her desire + for a coronet. The recollection of Frederick Elmour sometimes crossed her + imagination, and struck her heart; but the pang was soon over, and she + settled her conscience by the reflection, that she was not, in the least + degree, bound in honour to him—he had set her entirely at liberty, + and could not complain of her conduct. As to Ellen—every day she + determined to write to her, and every day she put it off till to-morrow. + At last she was saved the trouble of making and breaking any more + resolutions: for one evening, as she was walking with Lady Bradstone and + her noble admirer, in the public walk, she met Miss Elmour and her + brother. + </p> + <p> + She accosted Ellen with great eagerness; but it was plain to her friend’s + discerning eyes that her joy was affected. After repeating several times + that she was quite delighted at this unexpected meeting, she ran on with a + number of commonplace questions, commencing and concluding with, “When did + you come?—How long do you stay?—Where do you lodge?” + </p> + <p> + “We have been here about a fortnight, and I believe we shall stay about a + month longer.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!—A month!—So long!—How fortunate!—But + where are you?” + </p> + <p> + “We lodge a little out of the town, on the road to Cirencester.” + </p> + <p> + “How unfortunate!—We are at such a shocking distance!—I’m with + Lady Bradstone—a most charming woman!—Whom are you with?” + </p> + <p> + “With my poor father,” said Ellen; “he has been very ill lately, and we + came here on his account.” + </p> + <p> + “Ill!—Old Mr. Elmour!—I’m extremely concerned—but whom + have you to attend him?—you should send to town for Dr. Grant—do + you know he is the only man now?—the only man Lady Bradstone and I + have any dependence on—if I were dying, he is the man I should send + for. Do have him for Mr. Elmour, my dear—and don’t be alarmed, above + all things—you know it’s so natural, at your father’s age, that he + should not be as well as he has been—but I distress you—and + detain you.” + </p> + <p> + Our heroine, after running off these unmeaning sentences, passed on, being + ashamed to walk with Ellen in public, because Lady Bradstone had + whispered, “<i>Who is she?</i>”—Not to be known in the world of + fashion is an unpardonable crime, for which no merit can atone. Three days + elapsed before Miss Turnbull went to see her friends, notwithstanding her + extreme concern for poor Mr. Elmour. Her excuse to her conscience was, + that Lady Bradstone’s carriage could not sooner be spared. People in a + certain rank of life are, or make themselves, slaves to horses and + carriages; with every apparent convenience and luxury, they are frequently + more dependent than their tradesmen or their servants. There was a time + when Almeria would not have been restrained by these imaginary <i>impossibilities</i> + from showing kindness to her friends; but that time was now completely + past. She was, at present, anxious to avoid having any private + conversation with Ellen, because she was ashamed to avow her change of + views and sentiments. In the short morning visit which she paid her, + Almeria talked of public places, of public characters, of dress and + equipages, &c. She inquired, indeed, with a modish air of infinite + sensibility, for poor Mr. Elmour; and when she heard that he was confined + to his bed, she regretted most excessively that she could not see him; but + a few seconds afterwards, with a suitable change of voice and countenance, + she made an easy transition to the praise of a new dress of Lady + Bradstone’s invention. Frederick Elmour came into the room in the midst of + the eulogium on her ladyship’s taste—she was embarrassed for a + moment; but quickly recovering the tone of a fine lady, she spoke to him + as if he had never been any thing to her but a common acquaintance. The + dignity and firmness of his manner provoked her pride; she wished to + coquet with him—she tried to excite his jealousy by talking of Lord + Bradstone: but vain were all her airs and inuendoes; they could not extort + from him even a sigh. She was somewhat consoled, however, by observing in + his sister’s countenance the expression, as she thought, of extreme + mortification. + </p> + <p> + A few days after this visit, Miss Turnbull received the following note + from Miss Elmour: + </p> + <p> + “MY DEAR ALMERIA, + </p> + <p> + “If you still wish that I should treat you as a friend, show me that you + do, and you will find my affection unaltered. If, on the contrary, you + have decided to pursue a mode of life, or to form connexions which make + you ashamed to own any one for a friend who is not a fine lady, let our + intimacy be dissolved for ever—it could only be a source of mutual + pain. My father is better to-day, and wishes to see you. Will you spend + this evening with him and with Your affectionate ELLEN ELMOUR?” + </p> + <p> + It happened that the very day Miss Turnbull received this note, Lady + Bradstone was to have a concert, and Almeria knew that her ladyship would + be offended if she were to spend the evening with the Elmours: it was, as + she said to herself, <i>impossible</i>, therefore, to accept of Ellen’s + invitation. She called upon her in the course of the morning, to make an + apology. She found Ellen beside her father, who was seated in his + arm-chair: he looked extremely pale and weak: she was at first shocked at + the change she saw in her old friend, and she could not utter the + premeditated apology. Ellen took it for granted that she was come, in + consequence of her note, to spend the day with her, and she embraced her + with affectionate joy. Her whole countenance changed when our heroine + began at last to talk of Lady Bradstone and the concert—Ellen burst + into tears. + </p> + <p> + “My dear child,” said Mr. Elmour, putting his hand upon his daughter’s, + which rested upon the arm of his chair, “I did not expect this weakness + from you.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Turnbull, impatient to shorten a scene which she had neither strength + of mind to endure nor to prevent, rose to take leave. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Ellen,” said she, in an irresolute tone, “my dearest creature, + you must not distress yourself in this way—I must have you keep up + your spirits. You confine yourself too much, indeed you do; and you see + you are not equal to it. Your father will be better, and he will persuade + you to leave him for an hour or two, I am sure, and we must have you + amongst us; and I must introduce you to Lady Bradstone—she’s a + charming woman, I assure you—you would like her of all things, if + you knew her. Come—don’t let me see you in this way. Really, my dear + Ellen, this is so unlike you—I can assure you that, whatever you may + think, I love you as well as ever I did, and never shall forget my + obligations to <i>all</i> your family; but, you know, a person who lives + in the world, as I do, must make such terrible sacrifices of their time—one + can’t do as one pleases—one’s an absolute slave. So you must forgive + me, dear Ellen, for bidding you farewell for the present.” + </p> + <p> + Ellen hastily wiped away her tears, and turning to Almeria with an air of + dignity, held out her hand to her, and said, “Farewell for ever, Almeria!—May + you never feel the want of a sincere and affectionate friend!—May + the triumphs of fashion make you amends for all you sacrifice to obtain + them!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Turnbull was abashed and agitated—she hurried out of the room + to conceal her confusion, stepped into a carriage with a coronet, drove + away, and endeavoured to forget all that had passed. The concert in the + evening recalled her usual train of ideas, and she persuaded herself that + she had done all, and more than was necessary, in offering to introduce + Ellen to Lady Bradstone. “How could she neglect such an offer?” + </p> + <p> + A few days after the concert, Almeria had the pleasure of being introduced + to Lady Bradstone’s four daughters—Lady Gabriella, Lady Agnes, Lady + Bab, and Lady Kitty. Of the existence of these young ladies Almeria had + scarcely heard—they had been educated at a fashionable + boarding-school; and their mother was now under the disagreeable necessity + of bringing them home to live with her, because the eldest was past + seventeen. + </p> + <p> + Lady Gabriella was a beauty, and determined to be a Grace—but which + of the three Graces, she had not yet decided. + </p> + <p> + Lady Agnes was plain, and resolved to be a wit. + </p> + <p> + Lady Bab and Lady Kitty were charming hoydens, with all the <i>modern</i> + simplicity of fourteen or fifteen in their manners. Lady Bab had a fine + long neck, which was always in motion—Lady Kitty had white teeth, + and was always laughing;—but it is impossible to characterize them, + for they differed in nothing from a thousand other young ladies. + </p> + <p> + These four sisters agreed in but one point—in considering their + mother as their common enemy. Taking it for granted that Miss Turnbull was + her friend, she was looked upon by them as being naturally entitled to a + share of their distrust and enmity. They found a variety of causes of + complaint against our heroine; and if they had been at any loss, their + respective waiting-maids would have furnished them with inexhaustible + causes of quarrel. + </p> + <p> + Lady Bradstone could not bear to go with more than four in a coach.—“Why + was Miss Turnbull always to have a front seat in the coach, and two of the + young ladies to be always left at home on her account?”—“How could + Lady Bradstone make such a favourite of a grazier’s daughter, and prefer + her to her own children as a companion?” &c. + </p> + <p> + The young ladies never discouraged their attendants from saying all the + ill-natured things that they could devise of Miss Turnbull, and they + invented a variety of methods of tormenting her. Lady Gabriella found out + that Almeria was horridly ugly and awkward; Lady Agnes <i>quizzed</i> her + perpetually; and the Ladies Bab and Kitty played upon her innumerable + practical jokes. She was astonished to find in high life a degree of + vulgarity of which her country companions would have been ashamed: but all + such things in high life go under the general term <i>dashing</i>. These + young ladies were <i>dashers</i>. Alas! perhaps foreigners and future + generations may not know the meaning of the term! + </p> + <p> + Our heroine’s temper was not proof against the trials to which it was + hourly exposed: perhaps the consciousness that she was not born to the + situation in which she now moved, joined to her extreme anxiety to be + thought genteel and fashionable, rendered her peculiarly irritable when + her person and manners were attacked by ladies of quality. She endeavoured + to conciliate her young enemies by every means in her power, and at length + she found a method of pleasing them. They were immoderately fond of + baubles, and they had not money enough to gratify this taste. Miss + Turnbull at first, with great timidity, begged Lady Gabriella’s acceptance + of a ring, which seemed particularly to catch her fancy: the facility with + which the ring was accepted, and the favourable change it produced, as if + by magic, in her ladyship’s manners towards our heroine, encouraged her to + try similar experiments upon the other sisters. She spared not ear-rings, + crosses, brooches, pins, and necklaces; and the young ladies in return + began to show her all the friendship which can be purchased by such + presents—or by any presents. Even whilst she rejoiced at the change + in their behaviour, she could not avoid despising them for the cause to + which she knew it must be attributed; nor did she long enjoy even the + temporary calm procured by these peace-offerings; for the very same things + which propitiated the daughters offended the mother. Lady Bradstone one + morning insisted upon Lady Gabriella’s returning a necklace, which she had + received from Almeria; and her ladyship informed Miss Turnbull, at the + same time, with an air of supreme haughtiness, that “she could not + possibly permit <i>her</i> daughters to accept such valuable presents from + any but their own relations; that if the Lady Bradstones did not know what + became them, it was her duty to teach them propriety.” + </p> + <p> + It was rather late in life to begin to teach, even if they had been + inclined to learn. They resented her last lesson, or rather her last act + of authority, with acrimony proportioned to the value of the object; and + Miss Turnbull was compelled to hear their complaints. Lady Gabriella said, + she was convinced that her mother’s only reason for making her return the + necklace was because she had not one quite so handsome. Lady Agnes, + between whom and her mamma there was pending a dispute about a pair of + diamond ear-rings, left by her grandmother, observed, that her mother + might, if she pleased, call <i>jealousy, propriety</i>; but that she must + not be surprised if other people used the old vocabulary; that her mamma’s + pride and vanity were always at war; for that though she was proud enough + to see her daughters <i>show well</i> in public, yet she required to have + it said that she looked younger than any of them, and that she was + infinitely better dressed. + </p> + <p> + Lady Bab and Lady Kitty did not fail in this favourable moment of general + discontent to bring forward their list of grievances; and in the + discussion of their rights and wrongs they continually appealed to our + heroine, crowding round her whilst she stood silent and embarrassed. + Ashamed of them and of herself, she compared the Lady Bradstones with + Ellen—she compared the sisters-in-law she was soon to have with the + friend she had forsaken. The young ladies mistook the expression of + melancholy in Almeria’s countenance at this instant, for sympathy in their + sorrows; and her silence, for acquiescence in the justice of their + complaints. They were reiterating their opinions with something like + plebeian loudness of voice, when their mother entered the room. The ease + with which her daughters changed their countenances and the subject of + conversation, when she entered, might have prevented all suspicion but for + the blushes of Almeria, who, though of all the party she was the least + guilty, looked by far the most abashed. The necklace which hung from her + hand, and on which in the midst of her embarrassment her eyes + involuntarily fell, seemed to Lady Bradstone proof positive against her. + Her ladyship recollected certain words she had heard as she opened the + door, and now applied them without hesitation to herself. Politeness + restrained the expression of her anger towards Miss Turnbull, but it burst + furiously forth upon her daughters; and our heroine was now as much + alarmed by the violence of her future mother-in-law as she had been + disgusted by the meanness of her <i>intended</i> sisters. From this day + forward, Lady Bradstone’s manner changed towards Almeria, who could + plainly perceive, by her altered eye, that she had lost her confidence, + and that her ladyship considered her as one who was playing a double part, + and fomenting dissensions in her family. She thought herself bound, in + honour to the daughters, not to make any explanation that could throw the + blame upon them; and she bore in painful silence the many oblique + reproaches, reflections upon ingratitude, dissimulation, and treachery, + which she knew were aimed at her. The consciousness that she was treating + Lady Bradstone with insincerity, in encouraging the addresses of her son, + increased Miss Turnbull’s embarrassment; she repented having for a moment + encouraged his clandestine attachment; and she now urged him in the + strongest manner to impart his intentions to his mother. He assured her + that she should be obeyed; but his obedience was put off from day to day; + and, in the mean time, the more Almeria saw of his family, the more her + desire to be connected with them diminished. The affair of the necklace + was continually renewed, in some shape or other, and a perpetual + succession of petty disputes occurred, in which both parties were in the + wrong, and each openly or secretly blamed her for not taking their part. + Her mind was so much harassed, that all her natural cheerfulness forsook + her; and the being obliged to assume spirits in company, and among people + who were not worth the toil of pleasing, became every hour more irksome. + The transition from these domestic miseries to public dissipation and + gaieties made her still more melancholy. + </p> + <p> + When she calmly examined her own heart, she perceived that she felt little + or no affection for Lord Bradstone, though she had been flattered by his + attentions, when the assiduity of a man of rank and fashion was new to + her; but now the joys of being a countess began to fade in her + imagination. She hesitated—she had not strength of mind sufficient + to decide—she was afraid to proceed; yet she had not courage to + retract. + </p> + <p> + Ellen’s parting words recurred to her mind—“May you never feel the + want of a sincere and affectionate friend! May the triumphs of fashion + make you amends for all you sacrifice to obtain them!”—“Alas!” + thought she, “Ellen foresaw that I should soon be disgusted with this + joyless, heartless intercourse; but how can I recede? how can I disengage + myself from this Lord Bradstone, now that I have encouraged his addresses?—Fool + that I have been!—Oh! if I could now be advised by that best of + friends, who used to assist me in all my difficulties!—But she + despises, she has renounced me—she has bid me farewell for ever!” + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding this “farewell for ever,” there was still at the bottom of + Almeria’s heart, even whilst she bewailed herself in this manner, a secret + hope that Ellen’s esteem and friendship might be recovered, and she + resolved to make the trial. She was eager to put this idea into execution + the moment it occurred to her; and after apologizing to the Lady + Bradstones for not, as usual, accompanying them in their morning ride, she + set out to walk to Miss Elmour’s lodgings. It was a hot day—she + walked fast from the hurry and impatience of her mind. The servant who + attended her knocked twice at Mr. Elmour’s door before any one answered; + at last the door was opened by a maid-servant, with a broom in her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Is Miss Elmour at home?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, she left Cheltenham this morning betimes, and we be getting the + house ready for other lodgers.” + </p> + <p> + Almeria was very much disappointed—she looked flushed and fatigued; + and the maid said, “Ma’am, if you’ll be pleased to rest a while, you’re + welcome, I’m sure—and the parlour’s cleaned out—be pleased to + sit down, ma’am.”—Almeria followed, for she was really tired, and + glad to accept the good-natured offer. She was shown into the same parlour + where she had but a few weeks before taken leave of Ellen. The maid rolled + forward the great arm-chair, in which old Mr. Elmour had been seated; and + as she moved it, a gold-headed cane fell to the ground. + </p> + <p> + Almeria’s eyes turned upon it directly as it fell; for it was an old + friend of hers: many a time she had played with it when she was a child, + and for many years she had been accustomed to see it in the hand of a man + whom she loved and respected. It brought many pleasing and some painful + associations to her mind—for she reflected how ill she had behaved + to the owner of it the last time she saw him. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ma’am,” said the maid, “it is the poor old gentleman’s cane, sure + enough—it has never been stirred from here, nor his hat and gloves, + see, since the day he died.” + </p> + <p> + “Died!—Good Heavens!—Is Mr. Elmour dead?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sure—he died last Tuesday, and was buried yesterday. You’d + better drink some of this water, ma’am,” said the girl, filling a glass + that stood on the table. “Why! dear heart! I would not have mentioned it + so sudden in this way, but I thought it could no way hurt you. Why, it + never came into my head you could be a friend of the family’s, nor more, + may be, at the utmost, than an acquaintance, as you never used to call + much during his illness.” + </p> + <p> + This was the most cutting reproach, and the innocence with which it was + uttered made it still more severe. Almeria burst into tears; and the poor + girl, not knowing what to say next, and sorry for all she had said, took + up the cane, which had fallen from Almeria’s hands, and applied herself to + brightening the gold head with great diligence. At this instant there was + a double knock at the house-door. + </p> + <p> + “It’s only the young gentleman, ma’am,” said the maid, as she went towards + the door. + </p> + <p> + “What young gentleman?” said Almeria, rising from her seat. + </p> + <p> + “Young Mr. Elmour, ma’am: he did not go away with his sister, but stayed + to settle some matters. Oh, they have let him in!” + </p> + <p> + The maid stood with the parlour-door half open in her hand, not being able + to decide in her own fancy whether the lady wished that he should come + into the room or stay out; and before either she, or perhaps Almeria, had + decided this point, it was settled for them by his walking in. Almeria was + standing so as to be hid by the door; and he was so intent upon his own + thoughts, that, without perceiving there was any body in the room, he + walked straight forward to the table, took up his father’s hat and gloves, + and gave a deep sigh. He heard his sigh echoed—looked up, and + started at the sight of Almeria, but immediately assumed an air of distant + and cold respect. He was in deep mourning, and looked pale, as if he had + suffered much. Almeria endeavoured to speak; but could get out only a few + words, expressive of <i>the shock and astonishment</i> she had just felt. + </p> + <p> + “Undoubtedly, madam, you must have been shocked,” replied Frederick, in a + calm voice; “but you could not have reason to be much astonished. My + father’s life had been despaired of some time—you must have seen how + much he was changed when you were here a few weeks ago.” Almeria could + make no reply; the tears, in spite of all her efforts to restrain them, + rolled down her cheeks: the cold, and almost severe, manner, in which + Frederick spoke, and the consciousness that she deserved it, struck her to + the heart. He followed her, as she abruptly quitted the room, and in a + tone of more kindness, but with the same distant manner, begged to have + the honour of attending her home. She bowed her head, to give that assent + which her voice could not at this instant utter; and she was involuntarily + going to put her arm within his; but, as he did not seem to perceive this + motion, she desisted, coloured violently, adjusted the drapery of her gown + to give employment to the neglected hand, then walked on with + precipitation. Her foot slipped as she was crossing the street; Frederick + offered his arm—she could not guess, from the way in which it was + presented, whether her former attempt had been perceived or not. This + trifle appeared to her a point of the utmost importance; for by this she + thought she could decide whether his feelings were really as cold towards + her as they appeared, whether he felt love and anger, or contempt and + indifference. Whilst she was endeavouring in vain to form her opinion, all + the time she leant upon his arm, and walked on in silence, a carriage + passed them; Frederick bowed, and his countenance was suddenly + illuminated. Almeria turned eagerly to see the cause of the change, and as + the carriage drove on she caught a glimpse of a beautiful young lady. A + spasm of jealousy seized her heart—she withdrew her arm from + Frederick’s. The abruptness of the action did not create any emotion in + him—his thoughts were absent. In a few minutes he slackened his + pace, and turned from the road towards a path across the fields, asking if + Miss Turnbull had any objection to going that way to Lady Bradstone’s + instead of along the dusty road. She made no objection—she thought + she perceived that Frederick was preparing to say something of importance + to her, and her heart beat violently. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Turnbull will not, I hope, think what I am going to say impertinent; + she may be assured that it proceeds from no motive but the desire to + prevent the future unhappiness of one who once honoured my family with her + friendship.” + </p> + <p> + “You are too good—I do not deserve that you should be interested in + my happiness or unhappiness—I cannot think you impertinent—pray + speak freely.” + </p> + <p> + “And quickly,” she would have added, if she dared. Without abating any of + his reserve from this encouragement, he proceeded precisely in the same + tone as before, and with the same steady composure. + </p> + <p> + “An accidental acquaintance with a friend of my Lord Bradstone’s, has put + me in possession of what, perhaps, you wish to be a secret, madam, and + what I shall inviolably keep as such.” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot pretend to be ignorant of what you allude to,” said Almeria; + “but it is more than probable that you may not have heard the exact state + of the business; indeed it is impossible that you should, because no one + but myself could fully explain my sentiments. In fact they were undecided; + I was this very morning going to consult your sister upon that subject.” + </p> + <p> + “You will not suppose that I am going to intrude my counsels upon you, + Miss Turnbull; nothing can be farther from my intention: I am merely going + to mention a fact to you, of which I apprehend you are ignorant, and of + which, as you are circumstanced, no one in your present society, perhaps + no one in the world but myself, would choose to apprize you. Forgive me, + madam, if I try your patience by this preface: I am very desirous not to + wound your feelings more than is necessary.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” said Almeria, with a doubtful smile, “perhaps you are under a + mistake, and imagine my feelings to be much more interested than they + really are. If you have any thing to communicate to Lord Bradstone’s + disadvantage, you may mention it to me without hesitation, and without + fear of injuring my happiness or his; for, to put you at ease at once, I + am come to a determination positively to decline his lordship’s + addresses.” + </p> + <p> + “This assurance certainly puts me at ease at once,” said Frederick. But + Almeria observed that he neither expressed by his voice nor countenance + any of that joy which she had hoped to inspire by the assurance: on the + contrary, he heard it as a determination in which he was personally + unconcerned, and in which pure benevolence alone could give him an + interest. “This relieves me,” continued he, “from all necessity of + explaining myself further.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” said Almeria, “but I must beg you will explain yourself. You do not + know but it may be necessary for me to have your antidote ready in case of + a relapse.” + </p> + <p> + No change, at least none that betrayed the anxiety of a lover, was visible + in Frederick’s countenance at this hint of a relapse; but he gravely + answered, that, when so urged, he could not forbear to tell her the exact + truth, that Lord Bradstone was a ruined man—ruined by gaming—and + that he had been so indelicate as to declare to his <i>friend</i>, that + his sole object in marrying was money. Our heroine’s pride was severely + hurt by the last part of this information; but even that did not wound her + so keenly as the manner in which Frederick behaved. She saw that he had no + remains of affection for her lurking in his heart—she saw that he + now acted merely as he declared, from a desire to save from misery one who + had formerly honoured his family with her friendship. Stiff, cold words—she + endeavoured to talk upon indifferent subjects, but could not—she was + somewhat relieved when they reached Lady Bradstone’s door, and when + Frederick left her. The moment he was gone, however, she ran up stairs to + her own apartment, and looked eagerly out of her window to catch the last + glimpse of him. Such is the strange caprice of the human heart, that a + lover appears the most valuable at the moment he is lost. Our heroine had + felt all her affection for Frederick revive with more than its former + force within this last hour; and she thought she now loved with a degree + of passion of which she had never before found herself capable. Hope is + perhaps inseparable from the existence of the passion of love. She passed + alternately from despair to the most flattering delusions: she fancied + that Frederick’s coldness was affected—that he was acting only from + honour—that he wished to leave her at liberty—and that as soon + as he knew she was actually disengaged from Lord Bradstone, he would fly + to her with all his former eagerness. This notion having once taken + possession of her mind, she was impatient in the extreme to settle her + affairs with Lord Bradstone. He was not at home—he did not come in + till late in the evening. It happened, that the next day Almeria was to be + of age; and Lord Bradstone, when he met her in the evening, reminded her + of her promise not “to prolong the torments of suspense beyond that + period.” She asked whether he had, in compliance with her request, + communicated the affair to Lady Bradstone? No; but he would as soon as he + had reasonable grounds of hope. Miss Turnbull rejoiced that he had + disobeyed her injunctions—she said that Lady Bradstone might now be + for ever spared hearing what would have inevitably excited her + indignation. His lordship stared, and could not comprehend our heroine’s + present meaning. She soon made it intelligible. We forbear to relate all + that was said upon the occasion: as it was a disappointment of the purse + and not of the heart, his lordship was of course obliged to make a + proportional quantity of professions of eternal sorrow and + disinterestedness. Almeria, partly to save her own pride the mortification + of the repetition, forbore to allude to the confidential speech in which + he had explained to <i>a friend</i> his motives for marrying; she hoped + that he would soon console himself with some richer heiress, and she + rejoiced to be disencumbered of him, and even of his coronet; for in this + moment coronets seemed to her but paltry things—so much does the + appearance of objects vary according to the medium through which they are + viewed! + </p> + <p> + Better satisfied with herself after this refusal of the earl, and in + better spirits than she had been for some months, she flattered herself + with the hopes that Frederick would call upon her again before he left + Cheltenham; he would then know that Lord Bradstone was no longer her + lover. + </p> + <p> + She fell asleep full of these imaginations—dreamed of Frederick and + Elmour Grove—but this was only a dream. The next day—and the + next—and the next—passed without her seeing or hearing any + thing of Frederick; and the fourth day, as she rode by the house where the + Elmours had lodged, she saw put up in the parlour window an advertisement + of “<i>Lodgings to be let</i>.” She was now convinced that Frederick had + left Cheltenham—left it without thinking of her or of Lord + Bradstone. The young Lady Bradstones observed that she scarcely spoke a + word during the remainder of her morning’s ride. At night she was attacked + with a feverish complaint: the image of the beautiful person whom she had + seen in the coach that passed while she was walking with Frederick, was + now continually before her eyes. She had made all the inquiries she could, + to find out who that young lady might be; but this point could not be + ascertained, because, though she described the lady accurately, she was + not equally exact about the description of the carriage. The arms and + livery had totally escaped her observation. The different conjectures that + had been made by the various people to whom she had applied, and the + voices in which their answers were given, ran in her head all this + feverish night. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it was Lady Susanna Quin—very likely it was Lady Mary + Lowther—very possibly Miss Grant; you know she goes about with old + Mrs. Grant in a yellow coach—but there are so many yellow coaches—the + arms or the livery would settle the point at once.” These words, <i>the + arms and the livery would settle the point at once,</i> she repeated to + herself perpetually, though without annexing any ideas to the words. In + short, she was very feverish all night; and in the morning, though she + endeavoured to rise, she was obliged to lie down again. She was confined + to her bed for about a week: Lady Bradstone sent for the best physicians; + and the young ladies, in the intervals of dressing and going out, whenever + they could remember it, came into Miss Turnbull’s room to “hope she found + herself better.” It was obvious to her that no one person in the house + cared a straw about her, and she was oppressed with the sense of being an + encumbrance to the whole family. Whilst she was alone she formed many + projects for her future life, which she resolved to execute as soon as she + should recover. She determined immediately to go down to her own house in + the country, and to write to Ellen a recantation of all her fine lady + errors. She composed, whilst she lay on her feverish pillow, twenty + letters to her former friend, each of them more eloquent and magnanimous + than the other: but in proportion as her fever left her, the activity of + her imagination abated, and with it her eloquence and magnanimity. Her + mind, naturally weak, and now enfeebled by disease, became quite passive, + and received and yielded to the impressions made by external + circumstances. New trains of ideas, perfectly different from those which + had occupied her mind during her fever, and in the days preceding her + illness, were excited during her convalescence. She lay listening to, or + rather hearing, the conversation of the young Lady Bradstones. They used + to come into her room at night, and stay for some time whilst they had + their hair curled, and talked over the events of the day—whom they + had met—what dresses they had worn—what matches were on the + tapis, &c. They happened one night to amuse themselves with reading an + old newspaper, in which they came to an account of a splendid masquerade, + which had been given the preceding winter in London by a rich heiress. + </p> + <p> + “Lord! what charming entertainments Miss Turnbull might give if she + pleased. Why, do you know, she is richer than this woman,” whispered Lady + Bab; “and she is of age now, you know. If I were she, I’m sure I’d have a + house of my own, and the finest I could get in London. Now such a house as + my aunt Pierrepoint’s—and servants—and carriages—and I + would make myself of some consequence.” + </p> + <p> + This speech was not lost upon our heroine; and the whisper in which it was + spoken increased its effect. The next day, as Lady Bab was sitting at the + foot of Almeria’s bed, she asked for a description of “my aunt + Pierrepoint’s house.” It was given to her <i>con amore</i>, and a + character of “my aunt Pierrepoint” was added gratis. “She is the most + charming amiable woman in the world—quite a different sort of person + from mamma. She has lived all her life about court, and she is connected + with all the great people, and a prodigious favourite at court—and + she is of such consequence!—You cannot imagine of what consequence + she is!” + </p> + <p> + Lady Gabriella then continued the conversation, by telling Miss Turnbull a + great secret, that her aunt Pierrepoint and her mother were not on the + best terms in the world: “for mamma’s so violent, you know, about + politics, and quite on a contrary side to my aunt. Mamma never goes to + court; and, between you and me, they say she would not be received. Now + that is a shocking thing for us; but the most provoking part of the + business is, that mamma won’t let my aunt Pierrepoint present us. Why, + when she cannot or will not go to the drawing-room herself, what could be + more proper, you know, than to let us be presented by Lady Pierrepoint?—Lady + Pierrepoint, you know, who is such a prodigious favourite, and knows every + thing in the world that’s proper at court, and every where: it really is + monstrous of mamma! Now if you were in our places, should not you be quite + provoked? By-the-bye, you never were presented at court yourself, were + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Never,” said Almeria, with a sudden feeling of mortification. + </p> + <p> + “No, you could not—of course you could not, living with mamma as you + do; for I am sure she would quarrel with an angel for just only talking of + going to court. Lord! if I was as rich as you, what beautiful birthday + dresses I would have!” + </p> + <p> + These and similar conversations wrought powerfully upon the weak mind of + our poor heroine. She rose from her bed after her illness wondering what + had become of her passion for Frederick Elmour: certainly she was now able + to console herself for his loss, by the hopes of being presented at court, + and of being dressed with uncommon splendour. She was surprised at this + change in her own mind; but she justified it to herself by the reflection, + that it would show an unbecoming want of spirit to retain any remains of + regard for one who had treated her with so much coldness and indifference, + and who in all probability was attached to another woman. Pride and + resentment succeeded to tenderness; and she resolved to show Frederick and + Ellen that she could be happy her own way. It is remarkable that her + friendship for the sister always increased or decreased with her love for + her brother. Ambition, as it has often been observed, is a passion that + frequently succeeds to love, though love seldom follows ambition. Almeria, + who had now recovered her strength, was one morning sitting in her own + room, meditating arrangements for the next winter’s campaign, when she was + roused by the voices of Lady Bab and Lady Kitty at her room door. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Turnbull! Miss Turnbull! come! come!—Here’s the king and queen + and all the royal family, and my aunt Pierrepoint—come quick to our + dressing-room windows, or they will be out of sight.” + </p> + <p> + The fair hoydens seized her between them, and dragged her away. + </p> + <p> + “Mamma says it’s horribly vulgar to run to the windows, but never mind + that. There’s my aunt Pierrepoint’s coach—is not it handsome?—Oh! + everything about her is so handsome!—you know she has lived all her + life at court.” + </p> + <p> + The eulogiums of these young ladies, and the sight of Lady Pierrepoint’s + entry in to Cheltenham in the wake of royalty, and the huzzas of the mob, + and the curiosity of all ranks who crowded the public walks in the + evening, to see the illustrious guest, contributed to raise our heroine’s + enthusiasm. She was rather surprised afterwards to observe that Lady + Pierrepoint passed her sister and nieces, on the public walk, without + taking the slightest notice of them; her head was turned indeed quite + another way when she passed, and she was in smiling conversation with one + of her own party. + </p> + <p> + Lady Gabriella whispered, “My aunt Pierrepoint cannot <i>know</i> us now, + because we are with mamma.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Turnbull now, for the first time, saw Lady Bradstone in a situation + in which she was neglected; this served to accelerate the decline and fall + of her ladyship’s power over her mind. She began to consider her not as a + person by whom she had been brought into notice in the circles of fashion, + but as one by whom she was prevented from rising to a higher orbit. Lady + Bradstone went to see her sister the day after her arrival, but she was <i>not + at home</i>. Some days afterwards Lady Pierrepoint returned her visit: she + came in a sedan chair, because she did not wish that her carriage should + be seen standing at Lady Bradstone’s door. It was incumbent upon her to + take every possible precaution to prevent the suspicion of her being + biassed by sisterly affection; her sister and she were unfortunately of + such different opinions in politics, and her sister’s politics were so + much disapproved of, where Lady Pierrepoint most wished for approbation, + that she could not, consistently with her principles or interest, + countenance them, by appearing in public with one so obnoxious. + </p> + <p> + Miss Turnbull observed, with the most minute attention, every word and + gesture of Lady Pierrepoint. At first view, her ladyship appeared all + smiling ease and affability; but in all her motions, even in those of her + face, there was something that resembled a puppet—her very smiles, + and the turns of her eyes, seemed to be governed by unseen wires. Upon + still closer observation, however, there was reason to suspect that this + puppet might be regulated by a mind within, of some sort or other; for it + could not only answer questions by a voice of its own, and apparently + without being prompted, but moreover it seemed to hesitate, and to take + time for thought, before it hazarded any reply. Lady Pierrepoint spoke + always as if she thought her words would be repeated, and must <i>lead to + consequences</i>; and there was an air of vast circumspection and mystery + about her, which appeared sublime or ridiculous according to the light in + which it was considered. To our heroine it appeared sublime. Her + ladyship’s conversation, if a set of unmeaning phrases be deserving of + that name, at length turned upon the concern she felt that it had not been + in her power to procure an increase of pension for a certain Mrs. Vickars. + “Such a respectable character!—the widow of a distant relation of + the Pierrepoints.” There was no probability, after all the interest and + influence she had used, she said, that Mrs. Vickars could ever be + gratified in the line she had attempted; that therefore it was her + ladyship’s advice to her to look out for some situation of an eligible + description, which might relieve her from the distressing apprehension of + appearing burdensome or importunate. + </p> + <p> + As well as her ladyship’s meaning could be made out, cleared from the + superfluity of words with which it was covered, she wished to get rid of + this poor widow, and to fasten her as an humble companion upon any body + who would be troubled with <i>such a respectable character!</i> Miss + Turnbull foresaw the possibility of obliging her ladyship by means of Mrs. + Vickars: for as she proposed to purchase a house in town, it would be + convenient to her to have some companion; and this lady, who was of a + certain age, and who had always lived in the best company, would be well + suited to serve as her chaperon. To do our heroine justice, considering + that she was unpractised in manoeuvring with court ladies, she conducted + her scheme with a degree of address worthy of her object. Through the + medium of Lady Bab and Lady Gabriella, she opened a correspondence with + Lady Pierrepoint. Mrs. Vickars was introduced to Miss Turnbull—liked + her prodigiously; and Lady Pierrepoint was most happy in the prospect of + her relation’s being so eligibly situated. In proportion as Miss Turnbull + advanced in the good graces of Lady Pierrepoint, she receded from Lady + Bradstone. This lady’s indignation, which had been excited against Almeria + by her not siding with her against her daughters, now rose to the highest + pitch, when she perceived what was going on. No crime could in her eyes be + greater than that of seceding from her party. Her violence in party + matters was heightened by the desire to contrast herself with her sister + Pierrepoint’s courtly policy. Lady Bradstone, all the time, knew and cared + very little about politics, except so far as they afforded her + opportunities for the display of spirit and eloquence. She had a fine flow + of words, and loved to engage in argument, especially as she had often + been told by gentlemen that her enthusiasm became her extremely, and that, + even if a man could resist the force of her arguments, he must yield to + the fire of her eyes. It happened that Miss Turnbull was present one day + when Lady Bradstone had been unusually warm in a political argument, and + Lady Pierrepoint as cool and guarded as her sister was eager. Almeria was + appealed to, and gave judgment in favour of Lady Pierrepoint, who happened + to be in the right. Regardless of right or wrong, Lady Bradstone became + more and more vehement, whilst Lady Pierrepoint sat in all the composed + superiority of silence, maintaining the most edifying meekness of + countenance imaginable, as if it were incumbent on her to be, or at least + to seem, penitent for a sister’s perversity. She sighed deeply when the <i>tirade</i> + was finished, and fixed her eyes upon her beautiful niece Gabriella. Lady + Gabriella immediately filled up the pause by declaring that she knew + nothing of politics and hoped she never should, for that she did not know + of what use they were to women, except to prevent them from going to + court. + </p> + <p> + Lady Bradstone expressed high indignation at perceiving that her daughters + thought more of dancing at a birthnight ball than of the good of the + nation. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Vickars, who was present, now interposed a word as mediatrix, + observing, that it was natural for the young ladies at their age: and Miss + Turnbull, catching or imitating something of the tone of Lady Pierrepoint, + ventured to add, that “it was a pity that Lady Bradstone’s daughters did + not enjoy all the advantages of their high rank, and that she really + wished Lady Bradstone could be prevailed upon to enter into conciliatory + measures.” + </p> + <p> + On hearing this speech, Lady Bradstone, no longer able to restrain her + anger within the bounds of politeness, exclaimed, “I am not surprised at + receiving such advice from you, Miss Turnbull; but I own I am astonished + at hearing such sentiments from my daughters. High sentiments are to be + expected from high birth.” + </p> + <p> + How Lady Bradstone contrived to make her aristocratic pride of birth agree + with her democratic principles, it may be difficult to explain; but + fortunately the idea of preserving consistency never disturbed her + self-complacency. Besides, to keep her ladyship in countenance, there are + so many examples of persons who live as royalists and talk as republicans. + </p> + <p> + Almeria could not brook the affront implied by Lady Bradstone’s last + speech; and matters were now brought to a crisis: she resolved not to + remain longer in a house where she was exposed to such insults. She was of + “age, and, thank Heaven! independent.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Bradstone made no opposition to her determination; but congratulated + her upon the prospect of becoming independent. + </p> + <p> + “I agree with you, Miss Turnbull, in thanking Heaven for making me + independent. Independence of mind, of course,” added she, “I value above + independence of purse.” + </p> + <p> + Whatever vexation our heroine might feel from this speech, and from the + perfect indifference with which Lady Bradstone parted from her, was + compensated by the belief that she had by her conduct this evening + ingratiated herself with Lady Pierrepoint. She was confirmed in this + opinion by Mrs. Vickars, who said that her ladyship afterwards spoke of + Miss Turnbull as a very judicious and safe young person, whom she should + not scruple to protect. She was even so condescending as to interest + herself about the house in town, which Miss Turnbull talked of purchasing: + she knew that a noble friend of hers, who was going on a foreign embassy, + had thoughts of parting with his house; and it would certainly suit Miss + Turnbull, if she could compass the purchase. Almeria felt herself highly + honoured by her ladyship’s taking a concern in any of her affairs; and she + begged of Mrs. Vickars to say, that “expense was no object to her.” She + consequently paid a few hundred guineas more than the value of the house, + for the honour of Lady Pierrepoint’s interference. Her ladyship saw into + the weakness of our heroine’s character, and determined to make advantage + of it. It was a maxim of hers, that there is no person so insignificant, + but some advantage may be made of them; and she had acted upon this + principle through life, sometimes so as to excite in the minds of the + ignorant a high admiration of her affability. It is said, that when Lady + Pierrepoint was asked why she married, she replied, “To increase my + consequence, and strengthen my connexions.” + </p> + <p> + Perhaps this speech was made for her by some malicious wit; but it is + certain that she never upon any occasion of her life neglected an + opportunity of acting upon this principle. She was anxious with this view + to have as many dependents as possible: and she well knew that those who + were ambitious of a curtsy from her at the playhouse, or a whisper at the + opera, were as effectually her dependents as the mendicants at her door, + who are in want of a shilling. The poor may be held in the iron fetters of + necessity, but the rich are dragged behind the car of fashion by the + golden chains of vanity. + </p> + <p> + The summer in the life of a fine lady is a season comparatively of so + little consequence, that the judicious historian may pass over some months + of it without their being missed in the records of time. He hastens to the + busy and important season of winter. + </p> + <p> + Our heroine took possession of her magnificent house in town: and Mrs. + Vickars was established as <i>arbitratrix elegantiarum</i>. + </p> + <p> + This lady deemed herself a judge in the last appeal of every thing that + became a person of fashion; and her claim to infallibility upon those + points was established by her being fourth cousin to Lady Pierrepoint. + Almeria soon discovered in her companion an inordinate love of power, and + an irritability of temper, which misfortunes and ill health had increased + to such a degree that it required more than the patience of a female Job + to live with her upon good terms. Martyrs in the cause of vanity certainly + exhibit wonderful, if not admirable, fortitude, in the midst of the absurd + and extravagant torments which they inflict upon themselves. Our heroine + endured for a whole season, without any outward complaint, but with many + an inward groan, the penance which she had imposed upon herself: the + extent of it can be comprehended only by those who have been doomed to + live with a thoroughly ill-tempered woman. The reward was surely + proportioned to the sufferings. Miss Turnbull received a smile, or a nod, + or something like a curtsy from Lady Pierrepoint, whenever she met her in + public; her ladyship’s cards were occasionally left at the Yorkshire + heiress’s door; and she sometimes honoured Miss Turnbull’s crowded rooms, + by crowding them still more with her august presence. There was further + reason to hope, that her ladyship might be induced to present Almeria at + court before the next birthday. All these advantages were to be attributed + to Mrs. Vickars, for she was the connecting link between two beings of + inferior and superior order. We forbear to describe, or even to enumerate, + the variety of balls, suppers, dinners, déjeunés, galas, and masquerades, + which Miss Turnbull gave to the fashionable world during this winter. The + generous public forget these things the week after they are over; and the + consequence they bestow endures no longer than the track of a triumphal + chariot. + </p> + <p> + Our heroine was never fully convinced of this truth till it was confirmed + by her own experience. She found it necessary continually to renew her + expensive efforts, to keep herself alive in the memory of her great + acquaintance. Towards the time when she expected to be presented at court + by Lady Pierrepoint, a sudden coolness was apparent in her ladyship’s + manner; and one morning Almeria was surprised by a note from her, + regretting, in the most polite but positive terms, that it would be + absolutely out of her power to have the honour of presenting Miss Turnbull + at St. James’s. In the utmost consternation, Almeria flew for an + explanation to Mrs. Vickars. Mrs. Vickars was in a desperate fit of <i>the + sullens</i>, which had lasted now upwards of eight-and-forty hours, ever + since her advice had not been taken about the placing of certain bronze + figures, with antique lamps in their hands, upon the great staircase. It + was necessary to bring the lady into a good humour in the first place, by + yielding to her uncontrolled dominion over the <i>candelabras</i>. This + point being settled, and an unqualified submission in all matters of + taste, past, present, or to come, declared or implied on the part of our + heroine, Mrs. Vickars on her part promised to set out immediately on an + embassy to Lady Pierrepoint, to discover the cause of the present + discontent. After making sundry ineffectual attempts to see her noble + relation, she was at last admitted; and after one hour’s private audience, + she returned to the anxious Almeria with a countenance lengthened to the + utmost stretch of melancholy significance. + </p> + <p> + “What <i>is</i> the matter, Mrs. Vickars?” + </p> + <p> + It was long before this question was answered; but after many friendly + lamentations, Mrs. Vickars could not help observing, that Miss Turnbull + had nobody to blame in this business but herself. This, or any thing else, + she was willing to admit, to get at the point, “But what have I done? I + dare say it is, as you say, all my own fault—but tell me how?” + </p> + <p> + “How!—Can you, my dearest Miss Turnbull, forget that you did the + most imprudent and really unaccountable thing, that ever woman did?—Lady + Pierrepoint <i>had it</i> from Stock the banker. Now you must be certainly + conscious to what I allude.” + </p> + <p> + Almeria still looked innocent till Mrs. Vickars produced the book + dedicated to Lady Bradstone, for twelve copies of which Miss Turnbull had + subscribed. Her name was printed among the list of subscribers, and there + was no palliating the fact. When her companion saw that she was quite + overwhelmed with the sense of this misfortune, she began to hint, that + though the evil was great, it was not without remedy; that in her own + private opinion, Lady Pierrepoint might have passed over the thing, if she + had not heard it at a most unlucky moment. The provoking banker mentioned + it to her ladyship just after he had disappointed her of certain moneys, + for which she was negotiating. From her situation and means of obtaining + secret and early intelligence, she had it frequently in her power to make + money by selling in or out of the stocks. Such an opportunity at present + occurred; and “it was a great pity,” Mrs. Vickars observed, “that the want + of a little ready money should preclude her from the possibility of + profiting by her situation.” Miss Turnbull, who was not deficient in + quickness of comprehension, upon this hint immediately said, “that her + ladyship might command some thousands which she had in Sir Thomas Stock’s + bank.” Lady Pierrepoint the next day found that it would be best to hush + up the affair of the subscription to the fatal pamphlet. She said, “that + she had with infinite satisfaction ascertained, that the thing had not + been noticed in the quarter where she feared it would have created an + insuperable prejudice—that there were other Turnbulls, as she was + happy to understand, in the world, besides Mrs. Vickars’s friend; and that + as, in the list of subscribers, she was mentioned only as <i>Miss</i> + Turnbull, not as Almeria Turnbull, all was safe, and nobody would suspect + that a lady presented at court by my Lady Pierrepoint could be the same + person that subscribed to a book of such a description.” + </p> + <p> + This affair being adjusted, the league was tacitly formed between interest + and vanity. Miss Turnbull was presented at court by Lady Pierrepoint, and + her ladyship bought into the stocks with the Yorkshire heiress’s money. + The gratification of Almeria’s ambition, however, did not complete her + happiness. When she was at the summit of the Alps of fashion, she saw how + little was to be seen. + </p> + <p> + Though she liked to have it to say that she was a great deal with Lady + Pierrepoint, yet the time always passed most heavily in her company; nor + was the inferiority of this lady’s understanding compensated by an + affectionate heart. Her smoothly polished exterior prevented all + possibility of obtaining any hold over her. She had the art at once to + seem to be intimate with people, and to keep them at the greatest + distance; as, in certain optical deceptions, an object which appears close + to us, eludes our hand if we attempt to grasp it. Almeria felt the want of + that species of unreserved confidence and friendship which she had + formerly enjoyed with Ellen. In judging of what will make us happy, we are + apt to leave time out of the account; and this leads to most important + errors. For a short period we may be amused or gratified by what will + fatigue and disgust us if long continued. The first winter that she spent + in dissipation she was amused; but winter after winter passed; and the + recurrence of the same public diversions, and the same faces, and the same + common-place conversation, wearied instead of interesting her. But as the + pleasure of novelty declined, the power of habit increased; and she + continued the same course of life for six years—six long years! + against both her judgment and her feelings, the absolute slave of an + imaginary necessity. Thus the silly chicken remains prisoner in a circle + of chalk: even when the hand by which it was held down is removed, it + feels an imaginary pressure, from which it dares not even attempt to + escape. + </p> + <p> + Almeria, however, was now arrived at an age when she could no longer, with + any propriety, be called a chicken: she was seven-and-twenty; and the + effect of keeping late hours, and the continual petty irritations to which + she had been subject, were sufficiently visible in her countenance. She + looked in a morning so faded and haggard, that any one not used to the <i>wear + and tear</i> of fashionable faces would have guessed Almeria’s age to be + seven-and-thirty instead of seven-and-twenty. During her six campaigns in + London, she or her fortune had made many conquests; but none of her London + captives had ever obtained any power over her affections, and her ambition + could not decide upon the pretensions of her several suitors. Lady + Pierrepoint, who was her prime adviser, had an interest in keeping her + unmarried; because during this time her ladyship employed most + advantageously certain moneys, which she had borrowed from our heiress. + This female politician made some objection to every proposal; continually + repeating, that Miss Turnbull might do better—that she might look + higher—that with her pretensions, there could be no doubt that she + would have a variety of advantageous offers—and that her <i>play</i> + should be to raise her value by rejecting, without hesitation, all + pretenders but those of the first distinction. Lady Pierrepoint, who + usually spoke with all the ambiguity of an oracle, seemed on this subject + more than usually mysterious. She dropped half sentences, then checked + herself, hinted that she was not at liberty to speak out; but that she had + her own private reasons for advising her friend Miss Turnbull not to be + precipitate in her choice. Her ladyship’s looks said more than her words, + and Almeria interpreted them precisely as she wished. There was a certain + marquis, whom she sometimes met at Lady Pierrepoint’s, and whom she would + have been pleased to meet more frequently. He was neither young, nor + handsome, nor witty, nor wise. What was he then?—He was a marquis—and + is not that enough?—Almeria saw that he was looked up to as a person + of great influence and importance, and she now had the habit of trusting + to the eyes and ears of others. She now considered what people were <i>thought + of</i>, not what they really were; and according to this mode of + estimation she could not fail to form a high opinion of this exalted + personage. He paid her distinguished, but not decisive attention; and + perhaps the uncertainty in which she was kept as to his views increased + her interest upon the subject. There was always some obstacle, which + seemed to prevent him from declaring himself:—at one time he was + suddenly obliged to go ambassador to some foreign court; he went, and + stayed a year; at his return he was immersed in politics, and deplored his + hard fate in terms which Almeria thought it was impossible not to construe + favourably to her wishes. She thought she was upon the point of becoming a + marchioness, when his lordship was again sent into what he called + banishment. Lady Pierrepoint had constantly letters from him, however; + passages from which she from time to time read to Almeria, in whose weak + mind this kept alive an indistinct hope, for which she had no rational + foundation. She was confirmed in her belief that the marquis had serious + thoughts of her, by the opinion of Mrs. Vickars, who she thought was in + the secret, and who certainly would not speak decidedly without sufficient + reason. Indeed, nothing but the pleasure she received from Mrs. Vickars’s + favourable prognostics upon this subject could have in any degree balanced + the pain she daily endured from this lady’s fretful temper. Almeria + submitted to her domineering humour, and continued to propitiate her with + petty sacrifices, more from fear than love—from fear that her + adverse influence might be fatal to her present scheme of aggrandizement. + Weak minds are subject to this apprehension of control from secret causes + utterly inadequate to their supposed effects; and thus they put their + destiny into the hands of persons who could not otherwise obtain influence + over their fate. + </p> + <p> + The time at length arrived when our heroine was to be confirmed in her + expectations, or wakened from her state of self-delusion. The marquis + returned from abroad, and Lady Pierrepoint wrote a note more mysteriously + worded than usual, signifying that she “wished to have a conference with + Miss Turnbull on a subject of some importance; and begged to know at what + hour in the morning she might be secure of the pleasure of finding her at + home.” Almeria named her hour, and waited for its arrival with no small + impatience. Lady Pierrepoint’s thundering knock at the door was heard; her + ladyship was shown up stairs; and she entered the room with a countenance + that seemed to promise well. She preluded with many flattering phrases—declared + that ever since she had been first acquainted with Miss Turnbull at + Cheltenham, she had always considered her with sentiments of esteem, of + which she had since given indeed the most convincing proofs, by accepting + of obligations from her. + </p> + <p> + “Obligations!” exclaimed Almeria, with an air of polite astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my dear Miss Turnbull,” continued her ladyship, with still more + polite humility, “I am under obligations to you assuredly. Things of a + pecuniary nature ought not to be named, I confess, in the same sentence + with friendship; yet for the sake of one’s family it is, whilst we remain + in this world, the duty of every one to pay a certain degree of attention + to such points; and a person who has, like me, advantages of situation and + connexions, would not be justifiable in neglecting, under due limitations, + to make use of them.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Turnbull readily assented to these guarded truisms, but wondered to + what all this was to lead. + </p> + <p> + “The money which you have had the goodness to trust in my hands,” + continued her ladyship, “has, without in the least impoverishing, or, I + hope, <i>inconveniencing</i> you, been of the most material advantage to + me.” + </p> + <p> + Almeria comprehended that her ladyship referred to her speculations in the + stocks, and she congratulated her upon her success; and added assurances, + that for her own part she had not been in the slightest degree <i>inconvenienced</i>. + Whilst Miss Turnbull uttered these assurances, however, she was not sorry + to see Lady Pierrepoint take out of her pocket-book bank notes to the + amount of her debt; for in plain truth, the interest of this loan had + never been punctually paid; and Almeria had often regretted that she had + placed so much of her fortune out of her own power. “Let me now return + these to you with a thousand thanks,” said her ladyship. “Indeed, my niece + Gabriella has more reason even than I have to thank you; for you must + know, my dear Miss Turnbull, that all my speculations have been for her. + From the time that she came to live with me, I was determined that she + should be properly established; and you must be sensible that, for a young + lady’s establishment in our days, money is as essential as beauty. La + belle Gabrielle is now provided for as she ought to be, and of course the + consequence will be a suitable alliance.” Miss Turnbull expressed her + satisfaction at finding that her money had been instrumental in attaining + so happy a purpose, and presumed to ask if her ladyship had any immediate + alliance in view. + </p> + <p> + “It is a secret as yet; but I have no secrets for you, my dear Miss + Turnbull: indeed, I came here this morning by our dear Gabriella’s + particular desire to communicate it to you. I flatter myself you will + approve of her choice—our favourite marquis.” + </p> + <p> + Almeria was so much astonished and shocked by these words, that she turned + as pale as if she were going to faint. “Our favourite marquis!” she + repeated in a faltering voice; “I thought——” + </p> + <p> + The fear of becoming ridiculous restrained her anger, and she paused.—“You + thought, perhaps,” resumed the perfectly-composed Lady Pierrepoint, “you + thought, perhaps, my dear, that there was too great a disparity of age + between Gabriella and the marquis.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! no.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, that is an objection, I confess; at least it would be to some young + ladies: but as Gabriella is satisfied, we may waive that.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! yes, certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “One cannot help being interested for him; he is such a respectable + character—and so much in love! It would really surprise you, my + dear; for you know he was a man, one would have imagined, so much immersed + in politics—I protest I never had a suspicion of his having a + thought of Gabriella, till the proposal was absolutely made.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure <i>I</i> never suspected the marquis’s attachment to Lady + Gabriella,” said Miss Turnbull: “on the contrary—” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary,” pursued Lady Pierrepoint, “he paid her always, as I + remember, less attention than to twenty others, who were indifferent to + him.” + </p> + <p> + The struggle was still violent in our heroine’s mind between rage and the + dread of exposing herself to ridicule. Lady Pierrepoint saw this, and + coolly held her in this dilemma. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” continued her ladyship, “men are such unaccountable creatures, one + never can understand them. Do you know, my dear Miss Turnbull, I had, till + his lordship explained himself unequivocally to me, a notion that he was + in love with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Really!” said our heroine, forcing a laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Did your friend Mrs. Vickars never tell you so?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she did—frequently.” + </p> + <p> + “Both of us mistaken, you see, my dear. Mortifying! to find one’s judgment + so fallible. I tell the marquis, he might absolutely have been privately + married to Gabriella without my finding him out—it is so easy now, + the easiest thing in the world, to impose upon me. Well, I must bid you + adieu for the present, my dear Miss Turnbull—you may imagine I have + a world of business on my hands.” + </p> + <p> + With the utmost appearance of cordiality Lady Pierrepoint shook our + heroine’s receding hand; and, without seeming to notice the painful + emotions visible in Almeria’s countenance, departed smiling, and perfectly + composed. + </p> + <p> + The moment that her ladyship had left the room, our heroine retired to her + own apartment, and hastily bolted the door to prevent the intrusion of + Mrs. Vickars, whose curiosity and condolence, whether real or affected, + she was not in a humour to endure. She walked up and down the room in + great agitation, by turns angry with Lady Pierrepoint, with the marquis, + with Lady Gabriella, with Mrs. Vickars, and with herself. After her anger + had spent itself, the sorrowful certainty that it was unavailing remained; + the disappointment was irremediable, and her mortification was the more + poignant, because she had no human being to sympathize in her feelings, no + one to whom she could complain. + </p> + <p> + “So this is fashionable friendship!” said she to herself. “This is the end + of all Lady Pierrepoint’s and Lady Gabriella’s professions of regard for + me!—Fool that I have been, to become their dupe!—With my eyes + open I saw nothing that was going forward, though now I can recollect a + thousand and a thousand circumstances, by which I might have been + undeceived. But I trusted implicitly—idiot that I was!—to the + friendship of this treacherous, unfeeling courtier. Once I had a friend, + to whom I might trust implicitly—I never, never, shall find her + equal.” + </p> + <p> + A transient recollection of former times crossed her mind—but those + times could not be recalled; and the present pressed upon her most + forcibly. Frustrated in all her ambitious schemes, she was sensible that + all that now remained for her was to conceal her disappointment, and to + avoid the contempt to which she would be exposed in the world, if it were + whispered that Miss Turnbull had fancied that the Marquis of —— + was in love with her, whilst he was all the while paying his addresses to + Lady Gabriella Bradstone. This powerful fear of ridicule conquered, or + suppressed, all other feelings. With all the resolution she could assume, + Almeria went to Mrs. Vickars, and congratulated her upon the happy event + which was soon likely to take place in her family: she even constrained + herself so far, as, without expressing either suspicion or resentment, to + hear her companion disclaim all knowledge of the affair, and declare that + she had, that morning, for the first time, heard of it from Lady + Pierrepoint, with a degree of astonishment from which she had not yet + recovered. + </p> + <p> + In a few weeks afterwards Lady Gabriella’s marriage took place. Our + heroine’s mortification was much increased by the splendour in which the + bride appeared, and by the great share of the public attention which the + fair marchioness seemed for some days to engross. Miss Turnbull was weary + of hearing the praises of her equipages and dress; and the dissimulation + she was continually obliged to practise towards Mrs. Vickars became + intolerable. Nothing but a pretext for quarrelling with this lady was + wanting to Almeria, and nothing but an excuse for leaving Almeria was now + desired by Mrs. Vickars, who had received an invitation from the + marchioness, which she was impatient to accept. The ladies one morning + after breakfast fell into a dispute upon the comparative merits of blue + and green. It was not to all appearance a very dangerous subject, but in + certain situations every subject becomes dangerous. + </p> + <p> + “This riband is a beautiful blue,” said Miss Turnbull. + </p> + <p> + “I confess I do not think so,” said Mrs. Vickars; “it is a very unbecoming + shade of blue.” + </p> + <p> + “Unbecoming!—I have been told by twenty people, that it is + remarkably becoming to me. Mrs. Ingoldsby told me yesterday, that she + never saw so beautiful a blue.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Ingoldsby’s taste is not infallible, I imagine,” said Mrs. Vickars, + with a contemptuous smile. + </p> + <p> + “It may not be infallible,” replied our heroine, “but it is at least as + much to be relied upon as other people’s.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure I do not pretend to compare my taste to Mrs. Ingoldsby’s; but I + may be permitted to have an opinion of my own, I hope: and in my opinion + it is a frightful blue, and shockingly unbecoming. And at all events I + like green infinitely better than blue; and I beseech you, Miss Turnbull, + not to wear this hideous riband.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure I don’t pretend to set my taste in competition with Mrs. + Vickars’s, but I must confess I cannot think this a frightful blue, or + shockingly unbecoming; nor can I agree with any body in preferring green + to blue; and for once I shall take the liberty of following my own fancy.” + </p> + <p> + “For once!—I am sorry I ever presumed to offer an opinion upon this + or any other subject to Miss Turnbull—I shall be more cautious in + future; but I candidly own I did think I might prefer green to blue + without giving offence.” + </p> + <p> + “It gives me no offence, I assure you, Mrs. Vickars, that you should + prefer green to blue; I am not so ridiculous. But people who cannot bear + to be contradicted themselves are always apt to fancy that others have the + same strange sort of domineering temper.” + </p> + <p> + “People who can bear nothing but flattery, Miss Turnbull, should have such + a friend as Mrs. Ingoldsby, who would swear that blue is green, and black + white, I make no doubt,” said Mrs. Vickars; “for my part, I am sorry I + cannot get rid of my troublesome sincerity.” + </p> + <p> + “Sincerity! Sincerity!—To do you justice, Mrs. Vickars, whatever I + may have felt about trifles, in affairs of importance I have never found + your <i>sincerity</i> troublesome.” + </p> + <p> + The ironical accent upon the word <i>sincerity</i> sufficiently marked + Miss Turnbull’s meaning. + </p> + <p> + The irritable temper of Mrs. Vickars put it out of her power to act a part + with that “exquisite dissimulation,” for which some of her sex have been + celebrated by the judicious Davila. Thrown off her guard by the last + sarcastic insinuation, Mrs. Vickars burst into an angry defence of her own + sincerity with respect to the affair of the marquis and Lady Gabriella. + Almeria observed, that this “defence was quite unnecessary, as she had not + made any accusation; and these apologies could be prompted only by Mrs. + Vickars’s own <i>tenderness</i> of conscience.” Mrs. Vickars replied with + increasing acrimony. She said, that her “conduct needed no apologies, and + that she should not stoop to make any, to soothe the disappointed ambition + of any person whatever.” Reproach succeeded reproach—sarcasm + produced sarcasm—till at last Mrs. Vickars declared, that after what + had passed it was impossible she should remain another day in Miss + Turnbull’s house. This declaration was heard by Almeria with undisguised + satisfaction. The next day Mrs. Vickars accepted of an invitation from the + marchioness; and our heroine afterwards protested that she was as much + rejoiced to be freed from the encumbrance of such a companion as Sinbad + the sailor was to get rid of the old man of the sea, who fastened himself + upon his shoulders with such remorseless tenacity. + </p> + <p> + She resolved to be more cautious in choice of her next companion. There + were many candidates for the honour of supplying the place of Mrs. + Vickars; amongst these was Mrs. Ingoldsby, a lady who was perfect mistress + of the whole art of flattery, by means of which she had so far ingratiated + herself with Miss Turnbull, that she felt secure of a preference over all + competitors. Almeria had indeed almost decided in her favour, when she + received a note from a Mrs. Wynne, an old lady with whom she had formerly + been acquainted in Yorkshire, and who, being just come to town, was eager + to renew her intimacy with Miss Turnbull. She was a woman of an excellent + heart, and absolutely incapable of suspecting that others could be less + frank or friendly than herself. She was sometimes led into mistakes by + this undistinguishing benevolence; for she imagined that all which + appeared wrong would prove right, if properly understood; that there must + be some good reason for every thing that seemed to be bad; that every + instance of unkindness or insolence was undesigned; and that every quarrel + was only a misunderstanding. Possessed by this good-natured kind of + wrong-headedness, she frequently did the most provoking, by way of doing + the most obliging things imaginable. + </p> + <p> + Upon this principle she would place contending parties by surprise in the + very situation which of all others they most wished to avoid, and then + give the signal for a pitched battle, by begging the enemies would shake + hands with one another. Now she had heard it reported in Yorkshire that + there was some coolness between the Elmours and Miss Turnbull; but she was + morally certain there could be no truth in this report, for a variety of + the very best reasons in the world. + </p> + <p> + “In the first place,” argued Mrs. Wynne, “to my certain knowledge, Miss + Turnbull was, from her infancy, always the greatest favourite at Elmour + Grove, the pupil of the good old gentleman, and the intimate friend of the + daughter. During that odd Hodgkinson’s lifetime, Almeria was always with + Miss Ellen Elmour, who treated her quite like a sister. I am sure I + remember, as if it was yesterday, her introducing Miss Turnbull to me, and + the affectionate way in which she spoke of her—and I particularly + recollect hearing Almeria Turnbull, amongst other grateful things, say, + that she should wish to live and die with her friends at Elmour Grove. + Then she had stronger reasons afterwards for being attached to them—you + know it was Mr. Frederick Elmour who gained her large fortune for her. I + was in the court-house in York the very day the cause was decided, and I + never heard a man speak with more energy and eloquence than Frederick + Elmour did in her defence. It was plain, indeed, that the eloquence came + from his heart—as to the law part of the business, I know my nephew, + who understands those things, said it was a very nice question, and that + if her cause had not been managed as ably as it was, she would not have + gained her fortune. Now of course this was a thing that never could be + forgotten. I own, I expected that there would have been a match between + Miss Turnbull and Mr. Elmour; but Sir Thomas Stock, her guardian, took her + away from us, and Mr. Elmour fell in love with another lady. But all this + time Miss Turnbull has never married, though she has been so much in the + great world, and from her large fortune must have had so many offers. I + heard it said yesterday, that she had refused Sir Thomas Stock’s eldest + son, and my Lord Bradstone, and some others; now it is plain she would not + marry merely for money or title. My nephew, who is so amiable and + sensible, is just the man for her, and he had used to admire her very much + in former times, when he met her at Elmour Grove.” Mrs. Wynne hinted her + wishes to her nephew, but he seemed not much inclined towards Miss + Turnbull, “because,” said he, “though Frederick and his sister never + uttered a syllable to her disadvantage, I cannot, from circumstances, help + imagining, that she has not behaved well to them; and besides, after five + or six years spent in the great world, and in all the dissipation in which + she has lived, her disposition cannot probably be the same as it was when + I knew her in the country.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wynne could not, with her good-natured eyes, see the force of any of + these objections, and she was determined to convince her nephew of their + futility. With this view she formed a scheme which was to be kept a + profound secret from the parties concerned, till the moment when it should + be ripe for execution. She heard that Miss Turnbull was in want of a + companion; and she knew that Mrs. Henry Elmour, a very amiable young + widow, distantly related to the Elmour family, and who had formerly been a + friend of Almeria’s, was at this moment in great distress. She had no + doubt that Miss Turnbull would be delighted with an opportunity of serving + any one connected with a family to whom she owed such obligations. Mrs. + Wynne fancied that this would be the finest occasion imaginable to prove + to her nephew, that, notwithstanding Almeria had lately lived so much in + the fashionable world, she had the same grateful heart as formerly. + </p> + <p> + Eager to come to this demonstration, Mrs. Wynne wrote immediately to the + distressed widow, begging her to come to town with all possible + expedition; “for I have found, or at least I am morally sure of finding, + the most charming situation your heart can desire. I say no more, that I + may not deprive you of the pleasure of the surprise.” + </p> + <p> + The same day that she sent this letter to the post, she despatched the + following note to Almeria: + </p> + <p> + ‘MY DEAR MISS TURNBULL, + </p> + <p> + “I am too well persuaded of the goodness of your heart to fear that you + should think my present interference impertinent. We used to be very good + friends in Yorkshire, and I am sure shall be just the same in London; + therefore I write without ceremony, as friends should. I called upon you + twice, but found you were, unluckily, not at home. Now I have a matter + very near my heart to speak to you about, that perhaps will turn out as + much to your satisfaction as to mine. I cannot express myself so well as I + could wish in writing, but am sure you will not repent your kindness, if + you will do us the honour of dining with us in a family way on Friday + next; and in the mean time, let me beg you will not decide your choice of + a companion. I cannot be more explicit, lest (as I have said once before + to-day) I should deprive you of the pleasure of the surprise. Dear madam, + forgive this freedom in one who most sincerely wishes you well (as Friday + will prove). My nephew, Henry Wynne (whom you may remember a great admirer + of yours), desires his best respects; and with every good wish I remain, + Dear Miss Turnbull’s + </p> + <p> + “Affectionate humble servant, + </p> + <p> + “M. WYNNE.” + </p> + <p> + This letter at first surprised our heroine, and afterwards afforded + subject for much ridicule to Mrs. Ingoldsby, to whom Almeria showed it. + She laughed at the odd freedom of the Yorkshire dame, at the old-fashioned + plainness of the style—parenthesis within parenthesis—at last + concluding with respects and best wishes, and <i>remaining</i> dear Miss + Turnbull’s humble servant. She opined, however, upon the third perusal of + the letter, that Mrs. Wynne was anxious to present her nephew to Miss + Turnbull, and that this was the real meaning of her curious note—that + probably she wished to surprise her with the sight of some Yorkshire + damsel, who had formed the reasonable expectation, that because Miss + Turnbull had done her the honour to notice her ages ago in the country, + she was to be her companion in town. Mrs. Ingoldsby further observed, that + Mrs. Wynne, though she had not practised at court, was no bad politician + in thus attempting to recommend a companion to Miss Turnbull, who would, + of course, be entirely in her nephew’s interests. Almeria’s vanity was + indirectly flattered by these insinuations, which tended to prove her vast + consequence, in being thus the object of plots and counterplots; and she + the more readily believed this, from the experience she had had of Lady + Pierrepoint’s manoeuvres. “It is really a dreadful thing,” said she, “to + be a great heiress. One must be so circumspect—so much upon one’s + guard with all the world. But poor Mrs. Wynne shows her cards so plainly, + one must be an idiot not to guess her whole play.” + </p> + <p> + To “mistake reverse of wrong for right” is one of the most common errors + in the conduct of life. Our heroine being sensible that she had been + ridiculously credulous in her dealings with Lady Pierrepoint, was now + inclined to be preposterously suspicious. She determined with her next + admirer to pursue a system diametrically opposite to that which she had + followed with the marquis; she had shown him attractive complaisance; she + was now prepared to display the repulsive haughtiness becoming the + representative of two hundred thousand pounds: she had completely adopted + Lady Pierrepoint’s maxim. <i>That a lady should marry to increase her + consequence and strengthen her connexions</i>. Her former ideas, that love + and esteem were necessary to happiness in a union for life, seemed + obsolete and romantic; and the good qualities of her admirers, though they + were always to be mentioned as the ostensible reasons for her choice, were + never in reality to influence her decision. + </p> + <p> + To stoop at once from a marquis to a private gentleman would be terrible; + yet that private gentleman was worthy of some little consideration, not + because he was, as Almeria remembered, a man of excellent sense, temper, + and character, but because he had a clear estate of eight thousand pounds + a-year, and was next heir to an earldom. + </p> + <p> + Miss Turnbull cannot properly be called a female fortune-hunter; but, to + coin a new name for our heroine, which may be useful to designate a + numerous class of her contemporaries, she was decidedly a female <i>title-hunter</i>. + </p> + <p> + She accepted of the invitation to dinner, and, accompanied by a proper + supporter in Mrs. Ingoldsby, went to Mrs. Wynne’s, dressed in the utmost + extravagance of the mode, blazing in all the glory of diamonds, in hopes + of striking admiration even unto awe upon the hearts of all beholders. + Though she had been expressly invited to a <i>family party</i>, she + considered that only as an humble country phrase to excuse, beforehand, + any deficiency of magnificence. She had no doubt that the finest + entertainment, and the finest company, Mrs. Wynne could procure or + collect, would be prepared for her reception. She was somewhat surprised, + especially as she came fashionably late, to find in the drawing-room only + old Mrs. Wynne, her nephew, and a lady, who, from her dress and modest + appearance, was evidently <i>nobody</i>. Miss Turnbull swept by her, + though she had a disagreeable recollection of having somewhere seen this + figure in a former state of existence. Mrs. Wynne, good soul! did not + believe in wilful blindness, and she therefore said, with provoking + simplicity, “Miss Turnbull, this is your good friend, Mrs. Henry Elmour—poor + thing! she is sadly altered in her looks since you saw her, a gay rosy + lass at Elmour Grove! But though her looks are changed, her heart, I can + answer for it, is just the same as ever; and she remembers you with all + the affection you could desire. She would not be like any other of her + name, indeed, if she did otherwise. The Elmours were all so fond of you!” + </p> + <p> + The name of Elmour, instead of having that irresistible charm, which Mrs. + Wynne expected, over Almeria’s heart, produced a directly contrary effect. + It recalled many associations that were painful to her pride; she was + vexed to perceive that obligations and intimacies which she had forgotten, + or which she wished to forget, were remembered so obstinately by others. + All this passed in her mind whilst Mrs. Wynne was speaking. With a look of + ill-humoured surprise, Almeria half rose from her seat, and, as Mrs. Henry + Elmour was presented to her, uttered some phrases in an unintelligible + voice, and then sunk back again on the sofa. Mrs. Wynne made room for the + widow between her and Miss Turnbull—Mr. Wynne kept aloof—a + dead silence ensued—and Miss Turnbull, seeing that in her present + position there was nothing else to be done, condescended to hope that all + Mrs. Henry Elmour’s friends in Yorkshire were well when she left them. + Mrs. Wynne’s countenance brightened up, and she now addressed her + conversation to Mrs. Ingoldsby, in order to leave the pair, whom she had + destined to be friends, at perfect liberty to talk over “old times.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Henry Elmour naturally spoke of the happy days which they had spent + together at Elmour Grove; but Miss Turnbull was so much occupied in + clasping one of her diamond bracelets, that half of what was said to her + seemed not to be heard, and the other half to create no interest. She + looked up, when she had at length adjusted her bracelet, and with an + insipid smile (learnt from Lady Pierrepoint) seemed to beg pardon for her + fit of absence. The unfortunate Mrs. Elmour recommenced all she had said; + but though Miss Turnbull’s eyes were at this time directed towards the + widow’s face, they wandered over her features with such insolent + examination, that she was totally abashed. Having gained her point, our + heroine now looked round as the door opened, in expectation of the + entrance of some persons who might be worthy of her attention; but, lo! it + was only a servant, who announced that dinner was served. Miss Turnbull’s + surprise could be equalled only by her indignation, when she found that it + was literally to a <i>family party</i> she was invited. “Miss Turnbull,” + said Mrs. Wynne, as they were sitting down to dinner, “I have been much + disappointed in not having the company of some friends of yours, who I + expected would dine with us to-day; but they will be with us, I hope, + to-night—they were unluckily engaged to dine with the Duchess of A——.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Turnbull vouchsafed to appear interested, when the name of a duchess + was mentioned; but her countenance again changed to an expression of + almost angry vexation, when Mrs. Wynne explained, that these friends were + Mr. and Mrs. Elmour, and Mr. Charles Wynne and his lady. “Miss Ellen + Elmour, you know: she was——“—“Very true, I saw her + marriage in the papers, I remember, some time ago,” replied Miss Turnbull; + “a year, if I’m not mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + “Two years ago, madam,” said Mrs. Wynne. + </p> + <p> + “Was it two?—I dare say it might—you know it is so impossible + to keep a register of deaths and marriages in one’s head. Pray, are you at + all acquainted, Mrs. Wynne, with the Duchess of A——? She was + always a prodigious friend of the Elmours, as I remember. How is that?—Are + they any way related, I wonder?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; they are now related by marriage,” said Mr. Wynne; “Mrs. Elmour is a + niece of the duchess.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “She is a charming woman,” said Mr. Wynne; “so beautiful and yet so + unaffected—so sensible, yet so unassuming.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray,” interrupted Mrs. Ingoldsby, “has not her grace conversaziones, or + reading parties, or something in that style every week?—She is quite + a learned lady, I understand. There was always something odd about her, + and I cannot help being afraid of her.” + </p> + <p> + “I assure you,” said Mrs. Wynne, “that there is nothing odd or strange + about the Duchess of A——. She has always the most agreeable + society that London can afford.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Turnbull and Mrs. Ingoldsby interchanged looks of affected contempt: + but Mr. Wynne added, “Her grace has, you know, a taste for literature and + for the arts; and the most celebrated literary characters, as well as + those who have distinguished themselves in active life, assemble at her + house, where they can enjoy the most agreeable conversation—that in + which a knowledge of books and of the world is happily blended.” + </p> + <p> + “And as to being afraid of her grace,” resumed Mrs. Wynne, “that is quite + impossible; she has such affable, engaging manners. I am sure, even I am + not in the least afraid of her.” + </p> + <p> + “But you know,” said Miss Turnbull, with a malicious look of mock + humility, “there is a difference between you and me.—I would not + meet her grace for the world, for I am persuaded I should not be able to + articulate a syllable in her classical presence—I have not been used + to that style of company, by any means. I assure you I should be, as Mrs. + Ingoldsby says, horribly afraid of your witty duchess.” + </p> + <p> + “She has none of the airs of a wit, believe me,” said Mrs. Wynne, growing + more and more earnest; “and if you will not believe me, ask your friend + Ellen.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, excuse me, I beseech; I shall ask no questions—I only beg leave + to keep myself well when I am well. The Elmours who are so clever, and + have such merit and so on, are all vastly better suited to her grace than + I am.” + </p> + <p> + No contradiction ensued—our heroine was mortified beyond the power + of concealment. + </p> + <p> + After dinner, when the ladies retired, Mrs. Wynne, though somewhat alarmed + and puzzled by Miss Turnbull’s behaviour, summoned all the resolution + which benevolence could inspire, and resolved at once to come to the point + with our heroine. She flattered herself that all in Miss Turnbull that + appeared inauspicious to her hopes was only <i>her manner,</i> that sort + of manner which people, who live much in high life, catch and practise, + without meaning to give themselves airs, or to humble their neighbours. + </p> + <p> + Many persons will perhaps think good Mrs. Wynne almost an idiot: but she + was a woman of abilities; and if she did not exert them in discovering + with promptitude the follies of others, she enjoyed much happiness in her + benevolent scepticism. This evening, however, she was doomed to be + absolutely convinced, against her will, that she had formed too favourable + an opinion of one of her fellow-creatures. + </p> + <p> + She was eager to explain herself to Almeria before Ellen and Mr. Frederick + Elmour should arrive; she therefore took her aside, and began without any + preface:—“My dear Miss Turnbull, here is a charming opportunity for + you to do a kind, and generous, and grateful action. This poor Mrs. Henry + Elmour!—She has told you how she has been reduced to distress + without any imprudence of hers. Now you could not, I am sure, prove the + goodness of your own heart better to your friends (who will be here in + half an hour) than by showing kindness to this unfortunate widow. I cannot + presume to say more than that I think she would make a most agreeable + companion to an amiable, sensible young lady—and you have not + decided your choice, have you?” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, I have decided, beyond a possibility of retracting,” replied + Miss Turnbull, haughtily. + </p> + <p> + “I am very sorry,” said Mrs. Wynne, with an expression of real concern in + her countenance. “I have been very imprudent.” + </p> + <p> + “Really I am infinitely distressed that it is out of my power to oblige + her; but the lady who is with me now, Mrs. Ingoldsby, has a prior claim.” + </p> + <p> + Prior claim!—prior to that of the Elmour family! thought Mrs. Wynne. + </p> + <p> + The decisive manner in which Miss Turnbull spoke precluded all further + hope. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I did think it would have been such a pleasure to Miss Turnbull to + meet Mrs. Henry Elmour, and all her old friends the Elmours here to-day; + and I fancied, that if there had been any little coolness or + misunderstanding, it would quite have passed off, and that I should have + had the joy of seeing you all shake hands—I thought it would have + been such an agreeable surprise to you to see all the Elmour family, and + Ellen’s charming little girl, and Mr. Frederick Elmour’s boy!” + </p> + <p> + A more disagreeable surprise could scarcely have been imagined for our + heroine. She informed Mrs. Wynne, coldly, that there was not the slightest + quarrel between her and any of the Elmours; and that therefore there was + no necessity, or possible occasion, for any shaking of hands or + reconciliation scenes: that undoubtedly the style of life she had been + thrown into had entirely separated her from her Yorkshire acquaintance; + and time had dissolved the sort of intimacy that neighbourhood had + created: that she should always, notwithstanding, be most particularly + happy to meet any of the Elmour family; though, from her situation, it was + a good fortune she had not often enjoyed, nor indeed could in future + expect: but that she wished it to be understood, and repeated, that she + always in all companies properly acknowledged the obligations she had to + Mr. Frederick Elmour as a lawyer. Her cause, she believed, was the first + in which he had distinguished himself; and she was rejoiced to find that + he had since risen so rapidly in his profession.—As to Miss Ellen + Elmour, she was a very charming, sensible young woman, no doubt; and Miss + Turnbull assured Mrs. Wynne she was delighted to hear she was so suitably + married in point of understanding and temper, and all that sort of thing—and + besides, to a gentleman of a reasonable fortune, which she was happy to + hear Mr. Charles Wynne possessed. + </p> + <p> + Here she was interrupted in her speech—the door opened, and the + Duchess of A——, Mr. and Mrs. Elmour, and Mr. and Mrs. Charles + Wynne, were announced. Our heroine was not prepared for the sight of the + duchess; and her grace’s appearance made her receive her old friends in a + manner very different from that in which she had determined to meet them. + Practised as she was, she stood irresolute and awkward, whilst Ellen, with + easy, graceful kindness, accosted her, and immediately introduced her to + the Duchess of A——. As Mr. Frederick Elmour approached, and as + his beautiful wife was presented to Miss Turnbull, not all her efforts + could conceal the mortification she endured, whilst she pronounced that + she was vastly happy—quite delighted—that all this was really + such an agreeable and <i>unexpected surprise</i> to her—for she did + not even know any of her Yorkshire friends were in town. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ingoldsby came up to her assistance. Miss Turnbull rallied her + spirits, and determined to make her stand upon the exclusive ground of + fashion. Those who comprehend the rights of the privileged orders of + fashion are aware that even a commoner, who is in a certain <i>set</i>, is + far superior to a duchess who is not supposed to move in that magic + circle, Almeria, upon this principle, began to talk to the duchess of some + of her acquaintance, who were of the highest <i>ton</i>; and then + affectedly checked herself, and begged pardon, and looked surprised at + Mrs. Ingoldsby, when she found that her grace was not acquainted with + them. Much as Miss Turnbull had reason to complain of Lady Pierrepoint and + the young bride the marchioness, she now thought that their names would do + her honour; and she scrupled not to speak of them as her best friends, and + as the most amiable creatures existing.—Such is the meanness and + insufficiency of vanity! + </p> + <p> + “Poor Lady Pierrepoint,” said the Duchess of A——: “with her + independent fortune, what could tempt her to enslave herself, as she has + done, to a court life?” + </p> + <p> + “Her ladyship finds herself suited to her situation, I believe,” said Miss + Turnbull. “Lady Pierrepoint is certainly formed, more than most people I + know, to succeed and shine in a court; and she is in favour, and in power, + and in fashion.” + </p> + <p> + “Does it follow of course that she is happy?” said Ellen. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! happy—of course; I suppose so.” + </p> + <p> + “No doubt,” said Mrs. Ingoldsby; “she has every reason to be happy: has + not she just made her niece marchioness?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Turnbull repeated “<i>Happy!</i> to be sure Lady Pierrepoint is + happy, if any body in the world is happy.”—A short sigh escaped from + our heroine. + </p> + <p> + Ellen heard the sigh, and attended to it more than to her words; she + looked upon her with compassion, and endeavoured to change the + conversation. + </p> + <p> + “We spend this winter in town; and as I think I know your <i>real</i> + tastes, Almeria,” said she, taking Almeria’s hand, “we must have the + pleasure of introducing you to some of her grace’s literary friends, who + will, I am sure, please and suit you particularly.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Frederick Elmour, who now really pitied Almeria, though in his pity + there was a strong mixture of contempt, joined his sister in her kindness, + and named and described some of the people whom he thought she would be + most desirous of knowing. The names struck Miss Turnbull’s ears, for they + were the names of persons distinguished in the fashionable as well as in + the literary world; and she was dismayed and mortified by the discovery + that her <i>country friends</i> had by some means, incomprehensible to + her, gained distinction and intimacy in society where she had merely + admission; she was vexed beyond expression when she found that <i>the + Elmours</i> were superior to her even on her own ground. At this instant + Mrs. Wynne, with her usual simplicity, asked Mrs. Elmour and Ellen why + they had not brought their charming children with them; adding, “You are, + my dears, without exception, the two happiest mothers and wives I am + acquainted with. And after all, what happiness is there equal to domestic + happiness?—Oh! my dear Miss Turnbull, trust me, though I am a silly + old woman, there’s nothing like it—and friends at court are not like + friends at home—and all the Lady Pierrepoints that ever were or ever + will be born, are not, as you’ll find when you come to try them, like one + of these plain good Ellens and Elmours.” + </p> + <p> + The address, simple as it was, came so home to Almeria’s experience, and + so many recollections rushed at once upon her memory, that all her + factitious character of a fine lady gave way to natural feeling, and + suddenly she burst into tears. + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens! my dear Miss Turnbull,” cried Mrs. Ingoldsby, “what is the + matter?—Are not you well?—Salts! salts!—the heat of the + room!—Poor thing!—she has such weak nerves.—Mr. Elmour, + may I trouble you to ring the bell for our carriage? Miss Turnbull has + such sensibility! This meeting, so unexpected, with so many old friends, + has quite overcome her.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Turnbull, recalled to herself by Mrs. Ingoldsby’s voice, repeated the + request to have her carriage immediately, and departed with Mrs. Ingoldsby + as soon as she possibly could, utterly abashed and mortified; mortified + most at not having been able to conceal her mortification. Incapable + absolutely of articulating, she left Mrs. Ingoldsby to cover her retreat, + as well as she could, with weak nerves and sensibility. + </p> + <p> + Even the charitable Mrs. Wynne was now heard to acknowledge that she could + neither approve of Miss Turnbull’s conduct, nor frame any apology for it. + She confessed that it looked very like what she of all things detested + most—<i>ingratitude</i>. Her nephew, who had been a cool observant + spectator of this evening’s performance, was glad that his aunt’s mind was + now decided by Almeria’s conduct. He exclaimed that he would not marry + such a woman, if her portion were to be the mines of Peru. + </p> + <p> + Thus Miss Turnbull lost all chance of the esteem and affection of another + man of sense and temper, who might even at this late period of her life + have recalled her from the follies of dissipation, and rendered her + permanently happy. + </p> + <p> + And now that our heroine must have lost all power of interesting the + reader, now that the pity even of the most indulgent must be utterly sunk + in contempt, we shall take our leave of her, resigning her to that misery + which she had been long preparing for herself. It is sufficient to say, + that after this period she had some offers from men of fashion of ruined + fortunes; but these she rejected, still fancying that with her wealth she + could not fail to make a splendid match. So she went on coquetting; and + coquetting, rejecting and rejecting, till at length she arrived at an age + when she could reject no longer. She ceased to be an object to matrimonial + adventurers, but to these succeeded a swarm of female legacy-hunters. + Among the most distinguished was her companion, Mrs. Ingoldsby, whose + character she soon discovered to be artful and selfish in the extreme. + This lady’s flattery, therefore, lost all its power to charm, but yet it + became necessary to Almeria; and even when she knew that she was duped, + she could not part with Mrs. Ingoldsby, because it was not in her power to + supply the place of a flatterer with a <i>friend</i>.—A friend! that + first blessing of life, cannot be bought—it must be deserved. + </p> + <p> + Miss, or as she must now be called, <i>Mrs</i>. Almeria Turnbull, is still + alive—probably at this moment haunting some place of public + amusement, or stationary at the card-table. Wherever she may be, she is + despised and discontented; one example more amongst thousands, that wealth + cannot purchase, or fashion bestow, real happiness. + </p> + <p> + “See how the world its veterans rewards—youth of folly, an old age + of cards!” + </p> + <p> + <i>Edgeworth’s-Town</i>, 1802. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>VIVIAN</i>. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. + </h2> + <p> + Miss Edgeworth’s general views, in these stories, are explained in the + preface to the first volume. I cannot, however, omit repeating, that + public favour has not yet rendered her so presumptuous as to offer hasty + effusions to her readers, but that she takes a longer time to revise what + she writes than the severe ancients required for the highest species of + moral fiction. + </p> + <p> + Vivian exposes one of the most common defects of mankind. To be “infirm of + purpose” is to be at the mercy of the artful or at the disposal of + accident. Look round, and count the numbers who have, within your own + knowledge, failed from want of firmness. + </p> + <p> + An excellent and wise mother gave the following advice with her dying + breath: “My son, learn early how to say, No!”—This precept gave the + first idea of the story of Vivian. + </p> + <p> + THE ABSENTEE is not intended as a censure upon those whose duties, and + employments, and superior talents, lead them to the capital; but to warn + the thoughtless and the unoccupied from seeking distinction by frivolous + imitation of fashion and ruinous waste of fortune. + </p> + <p> + A country gentleman, or even a nobleman, who does not sit in parliament, + may be as usefully and as honourably employed in Yorkshire, Mid Lothian, + or Ireland, as at a club-house or an assembly in London. + </p> + <p> + Irish agents are here described as of two different species. That there + have been bad and oppressive Irish agents, many great landed English + proprietors have felt; that there are well-informed, just, and honourable + Irish agents, every-day experience can testify. + </p> + <p> + MADAME DE FLEURY points out some of the means which may be employed by the + rich for the real advantage of the poor. This story shows that sowing gold + does not always produce a golden harvest; but that knowledge and virtue, + when early implanted in the human breast, seldom fail to make ample + returns of prudence and felicity. + </p> + <p> + EMILIE DE COULANGES exposes a fault into which the good and generous are + liable to fall. + </p> + <p> + Great sacrifices and great benefits cannot frequently be made or conferred + by private individuals; but, every day, kindness and attention to the + common feelings of others is within the power, and may be the practice, of + every age, and sex, and station. Common faults are reproved by all writers + on morality; but there are errors and defects that require to be treated + in a lighter manner, and that come, with propriety, within the province of + essayists and of writers for the stage. + </p> + <p> + R. L. EDGEWORTH. <i>May</i>, 1812. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. + </h2> + <p> + “To see the best, and yet the worse pursue.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible,” exclaimed Vivian, “that you, Russell, my friend, my best + friend, can tell me that this line is the motto of my character!—’ + To see the best, and yet the worse pursue.—Then you must think me + either a villain or a madman.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied Russell, calmly; “I think you only weak.” + </p> + <p> + “Weak—but you must think me an absolute fool.” + </p> + <p> + “No, not a fool; the weakness of which I accuse you is not a weakness of + the understanding. I find no fault either with the logical or the + mathematical part of your understanding. It is not erroneous in either of + the two great points in which Bacon says that most men’s minds be + deficient in—the power of judging of consequences, or in the power + of estimating the comparative value of objects.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” cried Vivian, impatiently, “but I don’t want to hear just now what + Bacon says—but what <i>you</i> think. Tell me all the faults of my + character.” + </p> + <p> + “All!—unconscionable!—after the fatigue of this long day’s + journey,” said Russell, laughing. + </p> + <p> + These two friends were, at this time, travelling from Oxford to Vivian + Hall (in ——shire), the superb seat of the Vivian family, to + which Vivian was heir. Mr. Russell, though he was but a few years older + than Vivian, had been his tutor at college; and by an uncommon transition, + had, from his tutor, become his intimate friend. + </p> + <p> + After a pause, Vivian resumed, “Now I think of it, Russell, you are to + blame, if I have any faults. Don’t you say, that every thing is to be done + by education? And are not you—though by much too young, and + infinitely too handsome, for a philosopher—are not you my guide, + philosopher, and friend?” + </p> + <p> + “But I have had the honour to be your guide, philosopher, and friend, only + for these three years,” said Russell. “I believe in the rational, but not + in the magical, power of education. How could I do, or undo, in three + years, the work of the preceding seventeen?” + </p> + <p> + “Then, if you won’t let me blame you, I must blame my mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Your mother!—I had always understood that she had paid particular + attention to your early education, and all the world says that Lady Mary + Vivian, though a woman of fashion, is remarkably well-informed and + domestic; and, judging from those of her letters which you have shown me, + I should think that, for once, what all the world says is right.” + </p> + <p> + “What all the world says is right, and yet I am not wrong:—my mother + is a very clever woman, and most affectionate, and she certainly paid + particular attention to my early education; but her attention was too + particular, her care was too great. You know I was an only son—then + I lost my father when I was an infant; and a woman, let her be ever so + sensible, cannot well educate an <i>only</i> son, without some manly + assistance; the fonder she is of the son the worse, even if her fondness + is not foolish fondness—it makes her over-anxious—it makes her + do too much. My mother took too much, a great deal too much, care of me; + she over-educated, over-instructed, over-dosed me with premature lessons + of prudence: she was so afraid that I should ever do a foolish thing, or + not say a wise one, that she prompted my every word, and guided my every + action. So I grew up, seeing with her eyes, hearing with her ears, and + judging with her understanding, till, at length, it was found out that I + had not eyes, ears, or understanding of my own. When I was between twelve + and thirteen, my mother began to think that I was not sufficiently manly + for my age, and that there was something too yielding and undecided in my + character. Seized with a panic, my mother, to make a man of me at once, + sent me to —— school. There I was, with all convenient + expedition, made ashamed of every thing good I had learned at home; and + there I learned every thing bad, and nothing good, that could be learned + at school. I was inferior in Latin and Greek; and this was a deficiency I + could not make up without more labour than I had courage to undertake. I + was superior in general literature, but this was of little value amongst + my competitors, and therefore I despised it; and, overpowered by numbers + and by ridicule, I was, of course, led into all sorts of folly, by mere <i>mauvaise + honte</i>. Had I been in the habit of exercising my own judgment, or had + my resolution been strengthened by degrees; had I, in short, been prepared + for a school, I might, perhaps, have acquired, by a public education, a + manly, independent spirit. If I had even been wholly bred up in a public + school, I might have been forced, as others were, by early and fair + competition, to exercise my own powers, and by my own experience in that + microcosm, as it has been called, I might have formed some rules of + conduct, some manliness of character, and might have made, at least, a + good schoolboy. Half home-bred, and half school-bred, from want of proper + preparation, one half of my education totally destroyed the other. From + school, of course, I went to college, and at college, of course, I should + have become one of the worst species of college lads, and should have had + no chance, in my whole future life, of being any thing but a dissipated + fool of fashion, one of the <i>Four-in-Hand Club</i>, or the <i>Barouche + Club</i>, or the <i>Tandem Club</i>, or the <i>Defiance Club</i>, had not + I, by the greatest good fortune, met with such a friend as you, and, by + still greater good fortune, found you out for myself; for if my mother had + recommended you to me, I should have considered you only as a college + tutor; I should never have discovered half your real merit; I doubt + whether I should have even seen that you are young and handsome: so + prejudiced should I have been with the preconceived notion of a college + tutor, that I am not certain whether I should have found out that you are + a gentleman as well born and well bred as myself; but, be that as it may, + I am positive that I never should have made you my companion and friend; I + should never have thrown open my whole soul to you, as I have done; nor + could you ever have obtained such wondrous power as you possess over my + mind, if you had been recommended to me by my mother.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry,” said Russell, smiling, “that, after so many wise + reflections, and so many fine compliments, you end by proving to me that + my wondrous power is founded on your wondrous weakness. I am mortified to + find that your esteem and friendship for me depended so much upon my not + having had the honour of your mother’s recommendation; and have not I + reason to fear, that now, when I have a chance of becoming acquainted with + Lady Mary Vivian, and, perhaps, a chance of her thinking me a fit + companion and friend for her son, I must lose his regard and confidence, + because I shall labour under the insuperable objection of an affectionate + mother’s approbation?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” said Vivian; “my wilful folly does not go quite so far as that. + So that I maintain the privilege of choosing my friends for myself, I + shall always be pleased and proud to find my mother approve my choice.” + </p> + <p> + After a few moments’ pause, Vivian added, “You misunderstand, quite + misunderstand me, if you think that I am not fond of my mother. I respect + and love her with all my soul:—I should be a most ungrateful wretch + if I did not. I did very wrong to speak as I did just now, of any little + errors she may have made in my education; but, believe me, I would not + have said so much to any one living but yourself, nor to you, but in + strict confidence; and, after all, I don’t know whether I ought not to lay + the blame of my faults on my masters more than on my poor mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Lay the blame where we will,” said Russell, “remember, that the + punishment will rest on ourselves. We may, with as much philosophic + justice as possible, throw the blame of our faults on our parents and + preceptors, and on the early mismanagement of our minds; yet, after we + have made out our case in the abstract, to the perfect satisfaction of a + jury of metaphysicians, when we come to <i>overt</i> actions, all our + judges, learned and unlearned, are so awed, by the ancient precedents and + practice of society, and by the obsolete law of common sense, that they + finish by pronouncing against us the barbarous sentence, that every man + must suffer for his own faults.” + </p> + <p> + “‘I hope I shall be able to bear it, my lord,’ as the English sailor said + when the judge——But look out there! Let down that glass on + your side of the carriage!” cried Vivian, starting forward. “There’s + Vivian Hall!” + </p> + <p> + “That fine old castle?” said Russell, looking out of the window. + </p> + <p> + “No; but farther off to the left, don’t you see amongst the trees that + house with wings?” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! quite a new, modern house: I had always fancied that Vivian Hall was + an old pile of building.” + </p> + <p> + “So it was, till my father threw down the old hall, and built this new + house.” + </p> + <p> + “And a very handsome one it is.—Is it as good within as without?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite, I think; but I’ll leave you to judge for yourself.—Are not + those fine old trees in the park?” + </p> + <p> + From this time till the travellers arrived at Vivian Hall, their + conversation turned upon trees, and avenues, and serpentine <i>approaches</i>, + and alterations that Vivian intended to make, when he should be of age, + and master of this fine place; and he now wanted but a twelvemonth of + being at legal years of discretion. When they arrived at the hall, Lady + Mary Vivian showed much affectionate joy at the sight of her son, and + received Mr. Russell with such easy politeness that he was prepossessed at + first in her favour. To this charm of well-bred manners was united the + appearance of sincerity and warmth of feeling. In her conversation there + was a mixture of excellent sense and general literature with the + frivolities of the fashionable world, and the anecdotes of the day in + certain high circles, of which she seemed to talk more from habit than + taste, and to annex importance more from the compulsion of external + circumstances than from choice. But her son,—her son was the great + object of all her thoughts, serious or frivolous. She was delighted by the + improvements she saw in his understanding and character; by the taste and + talents he displayed, both for fine literature and for solid information: + this flattered her hope that he would both shine as a polished gentleman + and make a figure in public life. To his friend Russell she attributed + these happy improvements; and, though he was not a tutor of her own + original selection, yet her pride, on this occasion, yielded to gratitude, + and she graciously declared, that she could not feel jealous of the + pre-eminent power he had obtained over her son, when she saw the admirable + use he made of this influence. Vivian, like all candid and generous + persons, being peculiarly touched by candour and generosity in others, + felt his affection for his mother rapidly increased by this conduct; nor + did his enthusiasm for his friend in the least abate, in consequence of + the high approbation with which she honoured him, nor even in consequence + of her ladyship’s frequent and rather injudicious expressions of her + hopes, that her son would always preserve and show himself worthy of such + a friend. + </p> + <p> + He joined in his mother’s entreaties to Russell to prolong his visit; and + as her ladyship declared she thought it of essential consequence to her + son’s interest and future happiness, that he should, at this <i>turn of + his life</i>, have such a companion, Russell consented to remain with him + some time longer. All parties were thus pleased with each other, and + remained united by one common interest about the same objects, during + several weeks of a delightful summer. But, alas! this family harmony, and + this accord of reason and <i>will</i>, between the mother and son, were + not of longer duration. As usual, there were faults on both sides. + </p> + <p> + Lady Mary Vivian, whose hopes of her son’s distinguishing himself by his + abilities had been much exalted since his last return from Oxford, had + indulged herself in pleasing anticipations of the time when he should make + his appearance in the fashionable and in the political world. She foresaw + the respect that would be paid to her, on his account, both by senators + and by matrons; by ministers, who might want to gain a rising orator’s + vote, and by mothers, who might wish to make an excellent match for their + daughters: not only by all mothers who had daughters to marry, but by all + daughters who had hearts or hands to dispose of, Lady Mary felt secure of + having her society courted. Now, she had rather extravagant expectations + for her son: she expected him to marry, so as to secure domestic + happiness, and, at the same time, to have fashion, and beauty, and rank, + and high connexions, and every amiable quality in a wife. This vision of a + future daughter-in-law continually occupied her ladyship’s imagination. + Already, with maternal <i>Alnascharism</i>, she had, in her reveries, + thrown back her head with disdain, as she repulsed the family advances of + some wealthy but low-born heiress, or as she rejected the alliance of some + of the new nobility. Already she had arranged the very words of her + answers to these, and determined the degrees and shades of her intimacies + with those; already had she settled + </p> + <p> + “To whom to nod, whom take into her coach, Whom honour with her hand;” + </p> + <p> + when one morning, as she sat at work, absorbed in one of these reveries, + she was so far “rapt into future times,” that, without perceiving that any + body was present, she began to speak her thoughts, and said aloud to + herself, “As if my son could possibly think of her!” + </p> + <p> + Her son, who was opposite to her, lying on a sofa, reading, or seeming to + read, started up, and putting down his book, exclaimed, in a voice which + showed at once that he was conscious of thinking of some particular + person, and determined to persist in the thought, “As if your son could + possibly think of her!——Of whom, ma’am?” + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter, child? Are you mad?” + </p> + <p> + “Not in the least, ma’am; but you said——” + </p> + <p> + “What!” cried Lady Mary, looking round; “What did I say, that has + occasioned so much disturbance?—I was not conscious of saying any + thing. My dear Selina,” continued her ladyship, appealing to a young lady, + who sat very intent upon some drawing beside her, “my dear Selina, you + must have heard; what did I say?” + </p> + <p> + The young lady looked embarrassed; and the colour which spread over her + face, brought a sudden suspicion into Lady Mary’s mind: her eye darted + back upon her son—the suspicion, the fear was confirmed; and she + grew instantly pale, silent, and breathless, in the attitude in which she + was struck with this panic. The young lady’s blush and embarrassment had a + very different effect on Vivian; joy suddenly sparkled in his eyes, and + illumined his whole countenance, for this was the first instant he had + ever felt any hope of having obtained an interest in her heart. He was too + much transported at this moment to think either of prudence or of his + mother; and, when he recollected himself, he was too little practised in + dissimulation to repair his indiscretion. Something he did attempt to say, + and blundered, and laughed at his blunder; and when his mother looked up + at him, in serious silence, he only begged pardon for his folly, confessed + he believed he was mad, and, turning away abruptly, left the room, + exclaiming that he wondered where Russell had been all the morning, and + that he must go and look for him. A long silence ensued between Vivian’s + mother and the young lady, who were left alone together. Lady Mary first + broke the silence, and, in a constrained tone, asked, as she took up the + newspaper, “Whether Miss Sidney had found any news?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, ma’am,” answered Miss Sidney, in a voice scarcely + articulate. + </p> + <p> + “I should have imagined there must be some news from the continent: but + you did not find any, I think you say, Miss Sidney;” continued Lady Mary, + with haughty, averted eyes. After turning over the pages of the paper, + without knowing one word it contained, she laid it down, and rose to leave + the room. Miss Sidney rose at the same time. + </p> + <p> + “Lady Mary, one instant; my dear Lady Mary.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Mary turned, and saw Selina’s supplicating eyes full of tears; but + her ladyship, still retaining her severity of manner, coldly said, “Does + Miss Sidney desire that I should stay?—Does Miss Sidney wish to + speak to me?” + </p> + <p> + “I do—as soon as I can,” said Selina in a faltering voice; but, + raising her eyes, and perceiving the contemptuous expression of Lady + Mary’s countenance, her own instantly changed. With the firm tone of + conscious innocence, she repeated, “I do wish to speak to your ladyship, + if you will hear me with your usual candour; I do not expect or solicit + your usual indulgence.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Sidney,” replied Lady Mary, “before you say more, it becomes me to + point out to you, that the moment is past for confidence between us two; + and that in no moment could I wish to hear from any person, much less from + one whom I had considered as my friend, confessions, extorted by + circumstances, degrading and unavailing.” + </p> + <p> + “Your ladyship need not be apprehensive of hearing from me any degrading + confessions,” said Miss Sidney; “I have none to make: and since, without + any just cause, without any cause for suspicion, but what a blush, + perhaps, or a moment’s embarrassment of manner may have created, you think + it becomes you to point out to me that the moment for confidence between + us is past, I can only lament my mistake in having believed that it ever + existed.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Mary’s countenance and manner totally changed. The pride of rank + yielded before the pride of virtue; and perhaps the hope that she had + really no cause for suspicion at once restored her affection for her young + friend. “Let us understand one another, my dear Selina,” said she; “if I + said a hasty or a harsh word, forgive it. You know my affection for you, + and my real confidence; in actions, not in words, I have shown it.—In + thought, as well as in actions, my confidence in you has been entire; for, + <i>upon my word,</i> and you know this is not an asseveration I lightly + use, <i>upon my word,</i> till that unfortunate moment, a suspicion of you + never crossed my imagination. The proof—if there could need any + proof to you of what I assert—the proof is, the delight I take in + your society, the urgent manner in which I have so frequently, this + summer, begged your company from your mother. You know this would have not + only been the height of insincerity, but of folly and madness, if I had + not felt a reliance upon you that made me consider it as an absolute + impossibility that you could ever disappoint my friendship.” + </p> + <p> + “I thank your ladyship,” said Selina, softened by the kind tone in which + Lady Mary now spoke, yet still retaining some reserve of manner; “I thank + your ladyship for all your kindness—it has flattered me much—touched + me deeply—commanded my gratitude, and influenced my conduct + uniformly—I can and do entirely forgive the injustice of a moment; + and I now bid you adieu, my dear Lady Mary, with the conviction that, if + we were never to meet again, I should always hold that place in your + esteem and affection with which you have honoured me, and which, if it be + not too proud an expression, I hope I have deserved——Won’t you + bid me farewell?” + </p> + <p> + The tears gushed from Lady Mary’s eyes. “My dear, charming, and prudent + Selina, I understand you perfectly—and I thank you: it grieves me to + part with you—but I believe you are right—I believe there is + no other safety—no other remedy. How, indeed, could I expect that my + son could see and hear you—live in the house with you, and become + intimately acquainted with such a character as yours, without danger! I + have been very imprudent, unaccountably imprudent, to expose him to such a + temptation; but I hope, I trust, that your prudence will repair, in time, + the effects of my rashness—and again and again I thank you, my dear + young friend—but, perhaps it might be still better that you should + not leave us abruptly. Still better than your absence, I think, would be + the conviction you might impress on his mind of the impossibility of his + hopes: if you were to stay a day or two, and convince him by your + indifference that——” “Excuse me, that is what I cannot + undertake,” said Selina, blushing, and conscious of blushing. Lady Mary + was too polite and too delicate to seem to observe her confusion, but, + embracing her, said—“If we must part, then take with you my highest + esteem, affection, and gratitude; and this much let me add, that my most + sanguine expectations for my son’s happiness would be realized, if amongst + the women to whom family interests must restrict his choice, he could meet + with one of half your merit, and half your attractions.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Amongst the women to whom family interests must restrict his choice</i>,” + repeated Selina to herself many times, as she journeyed homewards; and she + pondered much upon the meaning of this phrase. Vivian was sole heir to a + very large property, without encumbrances of any kind; what, therefore, + was the necessity that restricted his choice? The imaginary necessity of + ambition, which confined him to a certain circle of fashionable, or <i>highly + connected</i> people. Selina Sidney, though she was not rich, was of a + very good gentleman’s family; her father had been a colonel in the British + army: during his life, Mrs. Sidney had been in the habit of living a great + deal in what is called <i>the world,</i> and in the best company; and + though, since his death, she had lived in retirement, Miss Sidney had + received an education which put her upon a footing with young ladies of + the highest accomplishments and refinement in the kingdom. With every + solid and amiable quality, she had all those external advantages of + appearance and manner which Lady Mary Vivian valued most highly. Selina, + who was convinced that Lady Mary appreciated her character, and was + peculiarly fond of her company and conversation, could not but feel + surprise, mixed with some indignation, perhaps with a little resentment, + when she perceived that her ladyship’s prejudices and ambition made her + act so completely in contradiction to her better judgment, to her + professions, and to her feelings of affection. Whatever Miss Sidney + thought upon this subject, however, she determined to continue to avoid + seeing Vivian any more—an excellent resolution, in which we leave + her, and return to her lover. + </p> + <p> + A walk with Russell had brought him back in the full determination of + avowing his attachment sincerely to his mother, and of speaking to her + ladyship in the most respectful manner; but, when he found that Miss + Sidney was gone, anger and disappointment made him at once forget his + prudence, and his intended respect; he declared, in the most passionate + terms, his love for Selina Sidney, and his irrevocable determination to + pursue her, to the end of time and space, in spite of all opposition + whatsoever from any person whatever. His mother, who was prepared for a + scene of this sort, though not for one of this violence, had sufficient + command of temper to sustain it properly; her command of temper was, + indeed, a little assisted by the hope that this passion would be + transitory in proportion to its vehemence, much by the confidence she had + in Miss Sidney’s <i>honour</i>, and in her absence: Lady Mary, therefore, + calmly disclaimed having had any part in persuading Miss Sidney to that + measure which had so much enraged her lover; but her ladyship avowed, that + though it had not been necessary for her to suggest the measure, she + highly approved of it, and admired now, as she had ever admired, that + young lady’s prudent and noble conduct. + </p> + <p> + Softened by the only thing that could, at this moment, soften him—praise + of his mistress—Vivian, in a most affectionate manner, assured his + mother that it was her warm eulogiums of Miss Sidney which had first + turned his attention to the perfections of her character; and he now + inquired what possible objections she could make to his choice. With the + generous enthusiasm of his disposition, heightened by all the eloquence of + love, he pleaded, that his fortune was surely sufficient to put him above + mercenary considerations in the choice of a wife; that in every point, + except this one of <i>money</i>, Selina Sidney was, in his own mother’s + opinion, superior to every other woman she could name, or wish for, as a + daughter-in-law. + </p> + <p> + “But my tastes are not to blind me to your interests,” said Lady Mary; + “you are entitled to look for rank and high connexion. You are the + representative of an ancient family, have talents to make a figure in + public; and, in short, prejudice or not, I confess it is one of the first + wishes of my heart that you should marry into a noble family, or at least + into one that shall strengthen your political interest, as well as secure + your domestic happiness.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian, of course, cursed ambition, as all men do whilst they are in love. + His arguments and his eloquence in favour of a <i>private station</i>, and + of the joys of <i>learned leisure, a competence, and domestic bliss</i>, + were worthy of the most renowned of ancient or modern philosophers. + Russell was appealed to with much eagerness, both by mother and son, + during their debates. He frankly declared to Lady Mary, that he thought + her son perfectly right in all he now urged, and especially in his opinion + of Miss Sidney; “but at the same time,” added Russell, “I apprehend that + he speaks, at this moment, more from passion than from reason; and I fear + that, in the course of a few months, he might, perhaps, entirely change + his mind: therefore, I think your ladyship is prudent in refusing, during + the minority of your son, your consent to a hasty union, of which he might + afterwards repent, and thus render both himself and a most amiable woman + miserable.” + </p> + <p> + Russell, after having given his opinion with the utmost freedom, when it + was required by Lady Mary, assured her that he should no farther + interfere; and he trusted his present sincerity would be the best pledge + to her of his future discretion and honour. This equitable judgment and + sincerity of Russell’s at first displeased both parties, but in time + operated upon the reason of both; not, however, before contests had gone + on long and loud between the mother and son—not before a great deal + of nonsense had been talked on both sides. People of the best abilities + often talk the most nonsense where their passions are concerned, because + then the whole of their ingenuity is exercised to find arguments in favour + of their folly. They are not, like fools, content to say, <i>This is my + will</i>; but they pique themselves on giving reasons for their will; and + their reasons are the reasons of madmen, excellent upon false premises. It + happened here, as in most family quarrels, that the disputants did not + allow sufficiently for the prejudices and errors incident to their + different ages. The mother would not allow for the romantic notions of the + son, nor could the son endure the worldly views of the mother. The son, + who had as yet no experience of the transitory nature of the passion of + love, thought his mother unfeeling and barbarous, for opposing him on the + point where the whole happiness of his life was concerned; the mother, who + had seen the decline and fall of so many <i>everlasting loves</i>, + considered him only as a person in a fever; and thought she prevented him, + by her calmness, from doing that which he would repent when he should + regain his sober senses. Without detailing the daily disputes which now + arose, it will be sufficient to mark the result. + </p> + <p> + Vivian’s love had been silent, tranquil, and not seemingly of any great + consequence, till it was opposed; but, from the instant that an obstacle + intervened, it gathered strength and force, and it presently rose rapidly, + with prodigious uproar, threatening to burst all bounds, and to destroy + every thing that stopped its course. Lady Mary was now inclined to try + what effect lessening the opposition might produce. To do her justice, she + was also moved to this by some nobler motives than fear; or, at least, her + fears were not of a selfish kind: she dreaded that her son’s health and + permanent happiness might be injured by this violent passion; she was + apprehensive of becoming an object of his aversion; of utterly losing his + confidence, and all power over his mind; but, chiefly, her generous temper + was moved and won by Selina Sidney’s admirable conduct. During the whole + time that Vivian used every means to see her, to write to her, and to + convince her of the fervour of his love, though he won all her friends + over to his interests, though she heard his praises from morning till + night from all who surrounded her, and though her own heart, perhaps, + pleaded more powerfully than all the rest in his favour; yet she never, + for one instant, gave him the slightest encouragement. Lady Mary’s esteem + and affection were so much increased by these strong proofs of friendship + and honour, that her prejudices yielded; and she at length declared, that + if her son continued, till he was of age, to feel the same attachment for + this amiable girl, she would give her consent to their union. But this, + she added, she promised only on one condition—that her son should + abstain from all attempts, in the interval, to see or correspond with Miss + Sidney, and that he should set out immediately to travel with Mr. Russell. + Transported with love, and joy, and victory, Vivian promised every thing + that was required of him, embraced his mother, and set out upon his + travels. + </p> + <p> + “Allow,” said he triumphantly to Russell, as the chaise drove from the + door, “allow, my good friend, that you were mistaken, in your fears of the + weakness of my character, and of the yielding facility of my temper. You + see how firm I have been—you see what battle I have made—you + see how I have <i>stood out</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “I never doubted,” said Russell, “your love of your own free will—I + never doubted your fear of being governed, especially by your mother; but + you do not expect that I should allow this to be a proof of strength of + character.” + </p> + <p> + “What! do you suppose I act from love of my own free will merely?—Do + you call my love for Selina Sidney weakness?—Oh! take care, Russell; + for if once I find you pleading my mother’s cause against your conscience——” + </p> + <p> + “You will never find me pleading any cause against my conscience. I have + told your mother, as I have told you, my opinion of Miss Sidney—my + firm opinion—that she is peculiarly calculated to make the happiness + of your life, provided you continue to love her.” + </p> + <p> + “Provided!—Oh!” cried Vivian, laughing, “spare your musty provisoes, + my dear philosopher! Would not any one think, now, you were an old man of + ninety? If this is all you have to fear, I am happy indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “At present,” said Russell, calmly, “I have no fear, as I have just told + your mother, but that you should change your mind before you are of age.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian grew quite indignant at this suggestion. “You are angry with me,” + said Russell, “and so was your mother: she was angry because I said, I <i>feared,</i> + instead of I <i>hoped,</i> you would change your mind. Both parties are + angry with me for my sincerity.” + </p> + <p> + “Sincerity!—no; but I am angry with you for your absurd suspicions + of my constancy.” + </p> + <p> + “If they are absurd, you need not be angry,” said Russell; “I shall be + well pleased to see their absurdity demonstrated.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I can demonstrate it this moment.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me; not this moment; you must take time into the account. I make + no doubt but that, at this moment, you are heartily in love with Miss + Sidney; but the thing to be proved is, that your passion will not decline + in force, in proportion as it meets with less resistance. If it does, you + will acknowledge that it was more a love of your own free will than a love + of your mistress that has actuated you, which was the thing to be proved.” + </p> + <p> + “Hateful Q.E.D.!” cried Vivian; “you shall see the contrary, and, at + least, I will triumph over you.” + </p> + <p> + If Russell had ever used art in his management of Vivian’s mind, he might + have been suspected of using it in favour of Miss Sidney at this instant; + for this prophecy of Vivian’s inconstancy was the most likely means to + prevent its accomplishment. Frequently, in the course of their tour, when + Vivian was in any situation where his constancy was tempted, he + recollected Russell’s prediction, and was proud to remind him how much he + had been mistaken. In short, the destined time for their return home + arrived—Vivian presented himself before his mother, and claimed her + promise. She was somewhat surprised, and a little disappointed, by our + hero’s constancy; but she could not retract her word; and, since her + compliance was now unavoidable, she was determined that it should be + gracious. She wrote to Selina, therefore, with great kindness, saying, + that whatever views of other connexions she might formerly have had for + her son, she had now relinquished them, convinced, by the constancy of her + son’s attachment, and by the merit of its object, that his own choice + would most effectually ensure his happiness, and that of all his friends. + Her ladyship added expressions of her regard and esteem, and of the + pleasure she felt in the thoughts of finding in her daughter-in-law a + friend and companion, whose society was peculiarly agreeable to her taste + and suited to her character. This letter entirely dissipated Selina’s + scruples of conscience; Vivian’s love and merit, all his good and all his + agreeable qualities, had now full and unreproved power to work upon her + tender heart. His generous, open temper, his candour, his warm attachment + to his friends, his cultivated understanding, his brilliant talents, his + easy, well-bred, agreeable manners, all heightened in their power to + please by the charm of love, justified, even in the eyes of the aged and + prudent, the passion he inspired. Selina became extremely attached to him; + and she loved with the delightful belief that there was not, in the mind + of her lover, the seed of a single vice which threatened danger to his + virtues or to their mutual happiness. With his usual candour, he had laid + open his whole character to her, as far as he knew it himself; and had + warned her of that vacillation of temper, that easiness to be led, which + Russell had pointed out as a dangerous fault in his disposition. But of + this propensity Selina had seen no symptoms; on the contrary, the + steadiness of her lover in his attachment to her—the only point on + which she had yet seen him tried—decided her to trust to the + persuasive voice of love and hope, and to believe that Russell’s + friendship had in this instance, been too harsh or too timorous in its + forebodings. + </p> + <p> + Nothing now delayed the marriage of Vivian and Selina but certain legal + rites, which were to be performed on his coming of age, and before + marriage settlements could be drawn;—and the parties were doomed to + wait for the arrival of some trustee who was with his regiment abroad. All + these delays Vivian of course cursed: but, upon the whole, they were borne + by him with heroic patience, and by Selina with all the tranquillity of + confiding love, happy in the present, and not too anxious for the future. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. + </h2> + <p> + “My dear Russell,” said Vivian, “love shall not make me forget friendship; + before I marry, I must see you provided for. Believe me, this was the + first—one of the first pleasures I promised myself, in becoming + master of a good fortune. Other thoughts, I confess, have put it out of my + head; so now let me tell you at once. I hate paltry surprises with my + friends: I have, you know—or rather, probably, you do not know, for + you are the most disinterested fellow upon earth—I have an excellent + living in my gift; it shall be yours; consider it as such from this + moment. If I knew a more deserving man, I would give it to him, upon my + honour; so you can’t refuse me. The incumbent can’t live long; he is an + old, very old, infirm man; you’ll have the living in a year or two, and, + in the mean time, stay with me. I ask it as a favour from a friend, and + you see how much I want a friend of your firm character; and I hope you + see, also, how much I can value, in others, the qualities in which I am + myself deficient.” + </p> + <p> + Russell was much pleased and touched by Vivian’s generous gratitude, and + by the delicacy, as well as kindness of the manner in which he made this + offer; but Russell could not consistently with his feelings or his + principles live in a state of dependent idleness, waiting for a rich + living and the death of an old incumbent. He told Vivian that he had too + much affection for him, and too much respect for himself, ever to run the + hazard of sinking from the rank of an independent friend. After rallying + him, without effect, on his pride, Vivian acknowledged that he was forced + to admire him the more for his spirit. Lady Mary, too, who was a great and + sincere admirer of independence of character, warmly applauded Mr. + Russell, and recommended him, in the highest terms, to a nobleman in the + neighbourhood, who happened to be in want of a preceptor for his only son. + This nobleman was Lord Glistonbury: his lordship was eager to engage a + person of Russell’s reputation for talents; so the affair was quickly + arranged, and Lady Mary Vivian and her son went to pay a morning visit at + Glistonbury Castle, on purpose to accompany Russell on his first + introduction to the family. As they approached the castle, Vivian was + struck with its venerable Gothic appearance; he had not had a near view of + it for some years, and he looked at it with new eyes. Formerly he had seen + it only as a picturesque ornament to the country; but now that he was + himself possessor of an estate in the vicinity, he considered Glistonbury + Castle as a point of comparison which rendered him dissatisfied with his + own mansion. As he drove up the avenue, and beheld the towers, turrets, + battlements, and massive entrance, his mother, who was a woman of taste, + strengthened, by her exclamations on the beauty of Gothic architecture, + the wish that was rising in his mind to convert his modern house into an + <i>ancient</i> castle: she could not help sighing whilst she reflected + that, if her son’s affections had not been engaged, he might perhaps have + obtained the heart and hand of one of the fair daughters of this castle. + Lady Mary went no farther, even in her inmost thoughts. Incapable of + double-dealing, she resolved never even to let her son know what her + wishes had been with respect to a connexion with the Glistonbury family. + But the very reserve and <i>discretion</i> with which her ladyship spoke—a + reserve unusual with her, and unsuited to the natural warmth of her manner + and temper—might have betrayed her to an acute and cool observer. + Vivian, however, at this instant, was too much intent upon castle-building + to admit any other ideas. + </p> + <p> + When the carriage drove under the great gateway and stopped, Vivian + exclaimed, “What a fine old castle! how surprised Selina Sidney would be, + how delighted, to see my house metamorphosed into such a castle!” + </p> + <p> + “It is a magnificent castle, indeed!” said Lady Mary, with a sigh: “I + think there are the Lady Lidhursts on the terrace; and here comes my Lord + Glistonbury with his son.” + </p> + <p> + “My pupil?” said Russell; “I hope the youth is such as I can become + attached to. Life would be wretched indeed without attachment—of + some sort or other. But I must not expect,” added he, “to find a second + time a friend in a pupil; and such a friend!” + </p> + <p> + Sentiment, or the expression of the tenderness he felt for his friends, + was so unusual from Russell, that it had double effect; and Vivian was so + much struck by it, that he could scarcely collect his thoughts in time to + speak to Lord Glistonbury, who came to receive his guests, attended by + three <i>hangers on</i> of the family—a chaplain, a captain, and a + young lawyer. His lordship was scarcely past the meridian of life; yet, in + spite of his gay and debonair manner, he looked old, as if he were paying + for the libertinism of his youth by premature decrepitude. His countenance + announced pretensions to ability; his easy and affable address, and the + facility with which he expressed himself, gained him credit at first for + much more understanding than he really possessed. There was a plausibility + in all he said; but, if it were examined, there was nothing in it but + nonsense. Some of his expressions appeared brilliant; some of his + sentiments just; but there was a want of consistency, a want of a + pervading mind in his conversation, which to good judges betrayed the + truth, that all his opinions were adopted, not formed; all his maxims + commonplace; his wit mere repetition; his sense merely <i>tact</i>. After + proper thanks and compliments to Lady Mary and Mr. Vivian, for securing + for him such a treasure as Mr. Russell, he introduced Lord Lidhurst, a + sickly, bashful boy of fourteen, to his new governor, with polite + expressions of unbounded confidence, and a rapid enunciation of undefined + and contradictory expectations. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Russell will, I am perfectly persuaded, make Lidhurst every thing we + can desire,” said his lordship; “an honour to his country, an ornament to + his family. It is my decided opinion that man is but a bundle of habits; + and it’s my maxim, that education is <i>second</i> nature—<i>first</i>, + indeed, in many cases. For, except that I am staggered about original + genius, I own I conceive with Hartley, that early impressions and + associations are all in all: his vibrations and vibratiuncles are quite + satisfactory. But what I particularly wish for Lidhurst, sir, is, that he + should be trained as soon as possible into a statesman. Mr. Vivian, I + presume you mean to follow up public business, and no doubt will make a + figure. So I prophesy; and I am used to these things. And from Lidhurst, + too, under similar tuition, I may with reason expect miracles—‘hope + to hear him thundering in the house of commons in a few years—‘confess + ‘am not quite so impatient to have the young dog in the house of + incurables; for you know he could not be there without being in my shoes, + which I have not done with yet—ha! ha! ha!——Each in his + turn, my boy! In the mean time, Lady Mary, shall we join the ladies + yonder, on the terrace? Lady Glistonbury walks so slow, that she will be + seven hours in coming to us; so we had best go to her ladyship: if the + mountain won’t go to Mahomet—you know, of course, what follows.” + </p> + <p> + On their way to the terrace, Lord Glistonbury, who always heard himself + speak with singular complacency, continued to give his ideas on education; + sometimes appealing to Mr. Russell, sometimes happy to catch the eye of + Lady Mary. + </p> + <p> + “Now, my idea for Lidhurst is simply this:—that he should know every + thing that is in all the best books in the library, but yet that he should + be the farthest possible from a book-worm—that he should never, + except in a set speech in the house, have the air of having opened a book + in his life—mother-wit for me!—in most cases—and that + easy style of originality, which shows the true gentleman. As to morals—Lidhurst, + walk on, my boy—as to morals, I confess I couldn’t bear to see any + thing of the Joseph Surface about him. A youth of spirit must, you know, + Mr. Vivian—excuse me, Lady Mary, this is—<i>an aside</i>—be + something of a latitudinarian to keep in the fashion: not that I mean to + say so exactly to Lidhurst—no, no—on the contrary, Mr. + Russell, it is our cue, as well as this reverend gentleman’s,” looking + back at the chaplain, who bowed assent before he knew to what, “it is our + cue, as well as this reverend gentleman’s, to preach prudence, and + temperance, and all the cardinal virtues.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Cardinal</i> virtues! very good, faith! my lord,” said the lawyer, + looking at the clergyman. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Temperance!</i>” repeated the chaplain, winking at the officer; “upon + my soul, my lord, that’s too bad.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Prudence!</i>” repeated the captain; “that’s too clean a cut at poor + Wicksted, my lord.” + </p> + <p> + Before his lordship had time to preach any more prudence, they arrived + within bowing distance of the ladies, who had, indeed, advanced at a very + slow rate. Vivian was not acquainted with any of the ladies of the + Glistonbury family; for they had, till this summer, resided at another of + their country seats, in a distant county. His mother had often met them at + parties in town. + </p> + <p> + Lady Glistonbury was a thin, stiffened, flattened figure—she was + accompanied by two other female forms, one old, the other young; not each + a different grace, but alike all three in angularity, and in a cold + haughtiness of mien. After reconnoitring with their glasses the party of + gentlemen, these ladies quickened their step; and Lady Glistonbury, making + her countenance as affable as it was in its nature to be, exclaimed, “My + dear Lady Mary Vivian! have I the pleasure to see your ladyship?—They + told me it was only visitors to my lord.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Vivian had then the honour of being introduced to her ladyship, to her + eldest daughter, Lady Sarah Lidhurst, and to Miss Strictland, the + governess. By all of these ladies he was most graciously received; but + poor Russell was not so fortunate; nothing could be more cold and + repulsive than their reception of him. This did not make Lady Sarah appear + very agreeable to Vivian; he thought her, at this first view, one of the + least attractive young women he had ever beheld. + </p> + <p> + “Where is my Julia?” inquired Lord Glistonbury. “Ah! there she goes + yonder, all life and spirits.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian looked as his lordship directed his eye, and saw, at the farthest + end of the terrace, a young girl of about fifteen, running very fast, with + a hoop, which she was keeping up with great dexterity for the amusement of + a little boy who was with her. The governess no sooner saw this than she + went in pursuit of her young ladyship, calling after her, in various tones + and phrases of reprehension, in French, Italian, and English; and asking + whether this was a becoming employment for a young lady of her age and + rank. Heedless of these reproaches, Lady Julia still ran on, away from her + governess, “to chase the rolling circle’s speed,” down the slope of the + terrace; thither Miss Strictland dared not pursue, but contented herself + with standing on the brink, reiterating her remonstrances. At length the + hoop fell, and the young lady returned, not to her governess, but, running + lightly up the slope of the terrace, to her surprise, she came full in + view of the company before she was aware that any strangers were there. + Her straw hat being at the back of her head, Lady Glistonbury, with an + indignant look, pulled it forwards. + </p> + <p> + “What a beautiful colour! what a sweet countenance Lady Julia has!” + whispered Lady Mary Vivian to Lord Glistonbury: at the same time she could + not refrain from glancing her eyes towards her son, to see what effect was + produced upon him. Vivian’s eyes met hers; and this single look of his + mother’s revealed to him all that she had, in her great prudence, resolved + to conceal. He smiled at her, and then at Russell, as much as to say, + “Surely there can be no comparison between such a child as this and Selina + Sidney!” + </p> + <p> + A few minutes afterwards, in consequence of a sign from Lady Glistonbury, + Julia disappeared with her governess; and the moment was unnoticed by + Vivian, who was then, as his mother observed, looking up at one of the + turrets of the old castle. All its inhabitants were at this time + uninteresting to him, except so far as they regarded his friend Russell; + but the castle itself absorbed his attention. Lord Glistonbury, charmed to + see how he was struck by it, offered to show him over every part of the + edifice; an offer which he and Lady Mary gladly accepted. Lady Glistonbury + excused herself, professing to be unable to sustain the fatigue: she + deputed her eldest daughter to attend Lady Mary in her stead; and this was + the only circumstance which diminished the pleasure to Vivian, for he was + obliged to show due courtesy to this stiff taciturn damsel at every turn, + whilst he was intent upon seeing the architecture of the castle, and the + views from the windows of the towers and loop-holes of the galleries; all + which Lady Sarah pointed out with a cold, ceremonious civility, and a + formal exactness of proceeding, which enraged Vivian’s enthusiastic + temper. The visit ended: he railed half the time he was going home against + their fair, or, as he called her, their petrified guide; then, full of the + Gothic beauties of Glistonbury, he determined, as soon as possible, to + turn his own modern house into a castle. The very next morning he had an + architect to view it, and to examine its capabilities. It happened that, + about this time, several of the noblemen and gentry, in the county in + which Vivian resided, had been seized with this rage for turning + comfortable houses into uninhabitable castles. And, however perverse or + impracticable this retrograde movement in architecture might seem, there + were always at hand professional projectors, to convince gentlemen that + nothing was so feasible. Provided always that gentlemen approve their + estimates as well as their plans, they undertake to carry buildings back, + in a trice, two, or three, or half a dozen centuries, as may be required, + to make them Gothic or Saracenic, and to “add every grace that time alone + can give.” A few days after Vivian had been at Glistonbury Castle, when + Lord Glistonbury came to return the visit, Russell, who accompanied his + lordship, found his friend encompassed with plans and elevations. + </p> + <p> + “Surely, my dear Vivian,” said he, seizing the first moment he could speak + to him, “you are not going to spoil this excellent house? It is completely + finished, in handsome modern architecture, perfectly comfortable and + convenient, light, airy, large enough, warm rooms, well distributed, with + ample means of getting at each apartment; and if you set about to + new-model and transform it into a castle, you must, I see, by your plan, + alter the proportions of almost every room, and spoil the comfort of the + whole; turn square to round, and round again to square; and, worse than + all, turn light to darkness—only for the sake of having what is + called a castle, but what has not, in fact, any thing of the grandeur or + solid magnificence of a real ancient edifice. These modern baby-house + miniatures of castles, which gentlemen ruin themselves to build, are, + after all, the most paltry, absurd things imaginable.” + </p> + <p> + To this Vivian was, after some dispute, forced to agree; but he said, + “that his should not be a baby-house; that he would go to any expense to + make it really magnificent.” + </p> + <p> + “As magnificent, I suppose, as Glistonbury Castle?” + </p> + <p> + “If possible:—that is, I confess, the object of my emulation.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Russell, shaking his head, “these are the objects of emulation, + for which country gentlemen often ruin themselves; barter their + independence and real respectability; reduce themselves to distress and + disgrace: these are the objects for which they sell either their estates + or their country; become placemen or beggars; and end either in the + liberties of the King’s Bench, or the slaveries of St. James’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible for me! you know my public principles,” said Vivian: “and you + know that I think the life of an independent country gentleman the most + respectable of all others—you know my principles.” + </p> + <p> + “I know your facility,” said Russell: “if you begin by sacrificing thus to + your taste, do you think you will not end by sacrificing to your + interest?” + </p> + <p> + “Never! never!” cried Vivian. + </p> + <p> + “Then you imagine that a strong temptation will not act where a weak one + has been found irresistible.” + </p> + <p> + “Of this I am certain,” said Vivian: “I could never be brought to sell my + country, or to forfeit my honour.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps not,” said Russell: “you might, in your utmost need, have another + alternative; you might forfeit your love; you might give up Selina Sidney, + and marry for money—all for the sake of a castle!” + </p> + <p> + Struck by this speech, Vivian exclaimed, “I would give up a thousand + castles rather than run such a hazard!” + </p> + <p> + “Let us then coolly calculate,” said Russell. “What would the castle cost + you?” + </p> + <p> + The expense, even by the estimates of the architects, which, in the + execution, are usually doubled, was enormous, such as Vivian acknowledged + was unsuited even to his ample fortune. His fortune, though considerable, + was so entailed, that he would, if he exceeded his income, be soon reduced + to difficulties for ready money. But then his mother had several thousands + in the stocks, which she was ready to lend him to forward this + castle-building. It was a project which pleased her taste, and gratified + her aristocratic notions. + </p> + <p> + Vivian assured his friend at parting, that his reason was convinced: that + he would not yield to the whims of taste, and that he would prudently give + up his folly. So he determined; and he abided by his determination till he + heard numbers speak on the other side of the question. With Vivian, those + who spoke last frequently seemed to speak best; and, in general, the + number of voices overpowered the weight of argument. By the persuasions of + his mother, the example of his neighbours, and the urgency of architects + and men of taste who got about him soon afterwards, he was convinced that + there was no living without a castle, and that the expense would be <i>next + to nothing at all. Convinced</i>, we should not say; for he yielded, + against his conviction, from mere want of power to resist reiterated + solicitations. He had no other motive; for the enthusiasm raised by the + view of Glistonbury Castle had passed away: he plainly saw, what Russell + had pointed out to him, that he should spoil the inside of his house for + the sake of the outside; and, for his own part, he preferred comfort to + show. It was not, therefore, to please his own taste that he ran into this + imprudent expense, but merely to gratify the taste of others. + </p> + <p> + Now the bustle of building began, and workmen swarmed round his house; the + foundations sank, the scaffolds rose; and many times did Vivian sigh and + repent, when he saw how much was to be undone before any thing could be + done; when he found his house dismantled, saw the good ceilings and + elegant cornices knocked to pieces, saw the light domes and modern sashes + give way; all taken out to be replaced, at profuse expense, by a clumsy + imitation of Gothic; how often did be sigh and calculate, when he saw the + tribes of workmen file off as their dinner bell rang! how often did he + bless himself, when he beheld the huge beams of timber dragged into his + yards, and the solid masses of stone brought from a quarry at an enormous + distance!—Vivian perceived that the expense would be treble the + estimate; and said, that if the thing were to be done again, he would + never consent to it; but now, as Lady Mary observed, it was too late to + repent; and it was, at any rate, best to go on and finish it with spirit—since + it was impossible (nobody knew why) to stop. He hurried on the workmen + with impatience; for he was anxious to have the roof and some apartments + in his castle finished before his marriage. The dilatoriness of the + lawyers, and the want of the trustee, who had not yet arrived in England, + were no longer complained of so grievously by the lover. Russell, one day, + as he saw Vivian overlooking his workmen, and urging them to expedition, + smiled, and asked whether the impatience of an architect or of a lover was + now predominant in his mind. Vivian, rather offended by the question, + replied, that his eagerness to finish this part of his castle arose from + his desire to give an agreeable surprise to his bride; and he declared + that his passion for Selina was as ardent, at this moment, as it had ever + been; but that it was impossible to make lawyers move faster than their + accustomed pace; and that Miss Sidney was too secure of his affection, and + he too well convinced of hers, to feel that sort of anxiety, which persons + who had less confidence in each other might experience in similar + circumstances. This was all very true, and very reasonable; but Russell + could not help perceiving that Vivian’s language and tone were somewhat + altered since the time when he was ready to brave heaven and earth to + marry his mistress, without license or consent of friends, without the + possibility of waiting a few months till he was of age. In fact, though + Vivian would not allow it, this consent of friends, this ceasing of + opposition, this security and tranquillity of happiness, had considerably + changed the appearance, at least, of his love. Lady Mary perceived it, + with a resolution to say nothing, and see how it would end. Selina did not + perceive it for some time; for she was of a most unsuspicious temper; and + her confidence in Vivian was equal to the fondness of her love. She began + to think, indeed, that the lawyers were provokingly slow; and when Vivian + did not blame them as much as he used to do, she only thought that he + understood business better than she did—besides, the necessary + trustee was not come—and, in short, the last thing that occurred to + her mind was to blame Vivian. + </p> + <p> + The trustee at length arrived, and the castle was almost in the wished-for + state of forwardness, when a new cause of delay arose—a county + election: but how this election was brought on, and how it was conducted, + it is necessary to record. It happened that a relation of Vivian’s was + appointed to a new seventy-four gun ship, of which he came to take the + command at Yarmouth, which was within a few miles of him. Vivian + recollected that Russell had often expressed a desire to go on board a + man-of-war. Vivian, therefore, after having appointed a day for their + going, went to Glistonbury to invite Russell: his pupil, Lord Lidhurst, + begged to be permitted to accompany them: and Lady Julia, the moment she + heard of this new seventy-four gun ship, was, as her governess expressed + it, wild to be of the party. Indeed, any thing that had the name of a + party of pleasure, and that promised a transient relief from the tedious + monotony in which her days passed; any thing that gave a chance of even a + few hours’ release from the bondage in which she was held between the + restraints of the most rigid of governesses and the proudest of mothers, + appeared delightful to this lively and childish girl. She persecuted her + governess with entreaties, till at last she made Miss Strictland go with + her petition to Lady Glistonbury; whilst, in the mean time, Lady Julia + overwhelmed her father with caresses, till he consented; and with much + difficulty, prevailed upon Lady Glistonbury to give her permission for the + young ladies to go with their governess, their brother, their father, and + Lady Mary Vivian, on this excursion. The invitation was now extended to + all the company then at the castle; including the representative of the + county, who, being just threatened with a fit of the gout, brought on by + hard drinking at the last election, expressed some reluctance to going + with this party on the water. But this gentleman was now paying his humble + devoirs to the Lady Sarah Lidhurst; and it was represented to him, by all + who understood the ground, that he would give mortal offence if he did not + go; so it was ruled, that, hot or cold, gout or no gout, he must appear in + the Lady Sarah’s train: he submitted to this perilous necessity in the + most gallant manner. The day proved tolerably fine—Vivian had an + elegant entertainment provided for the company, under a marquee pitched on + the shore—they <i>embarked</i> in a pleasure-boat—Lady Sarah + was very sick, and her admirer very cold; but Lady Julia was in extasies + at every thing she saw and felt—she feared nothing, found nothing + inconvenient—was charmed to be drawn so easily from the boat up the + high side of the ship—charmed to find herself on deck—charmed + to see the sails, the ropes, the rigging, the waves, the sea, the sun, the + clouds, the sailors, the cook dressing dinner—all, all + indiscriminately charmed her; and, like a school-girl broke loose, she ran + about, wild with spirits, asking questions, some sensible, some silly; + laughing at her own folly, flying from this side to that, from one end of + the ship to the other, down the ladders and up again; whilst Mr. Russell, + who was deputed to take care of her, could scarcely keep up with her: Lord + Glistonbury stood by, holding his sides and laughing aloud: Miss + Strictland, quite disabled by the smell of the ship, was lying on a bed in + the state cabin; and Lady Sarah, all the time shaded by an umbrella held + by her shivering admirer, sat, as if chained upright in her chair of + state, upon deck, scorning her sister’s childish levity, and proving + herself, with all due propriety, incapable of being moved to surprise or + admiration by any object on land or sea. + </p> + <p> + Lady Mary Vivian, while she observed with a quick eye all that passed, and + read her son’s thoughts, was fully persuaded that neither of the Lady + Lidhursts would be likely to suit his taste, even if his affections were + disengaged: the one was too childish, the other too stiff. “Yet their + birth and connexions, and their consequence in the county,” thought Lady + Mary, “would have made their alliance highly desirable.” Every body seemed + weary at the close of this day’s entertainment, except Lady Julia, who <i>kept + it up</i> with indefatigable gaiety, and could hardly believe that it was + time to go home, when the boat was announced to row them to shore: + heedless, and absolutely dizzy with talking and laughing, her ladyship, + escaping from the assistance of sailors and gentlemen, made a false step + in getting into the boat, and, falling over, would have sunk for ever, but + for Mr. Russell’s presence of mind. He seized her with a strong grasp, and + saved her. The fright sobered her completely; and she sat wrapped in + great-coats, as silent, as tractable, and as wet as possible, during the + remainder of the way to shore. The screams, the ejaculations, the + reprimands from Miss Strictland; the questions, the reflections, to which + this incident led, may possibly be conceived, but cannot be enumerated. + </p> + <p> + This event, however alarming at the moment, had no serious consequence; + for Lady Julia caught neither fever nor cold, though Miss Strictland was + morally certain her ladyship would have one or the other; indeed she + insinuated, that her ladyship deserved to have both. Lady Sarah’s poor + shivering knight of the shire, however, did not escape so well. Obliged to + row home, in a damp evening, without his great-coat, which he had been + forced to offer to Lady Julia, in a pleasure-boat, when he should have + been in flannels or in bed, he had “cause to rue the boating of that day.” + His usual panacea of the gout did not come as expected, <i>to set him up + again</i>. The cold he caught this day killed him. Lady Sarah Lidhurst was + precisely as sorry as decorum required. But the bustle of a new election + was soon to obliterate the memory of the old member, in the minds of his + numerous friends. Lord Glistonbury, and several other voices in the + county, called upon Vivian to stand on the independent interest. There was + to be a contest: for a government candidate declared himself at the same + moment that application was made to Vivian. The expense of a contested + election alarmed both Vivian and his mother. Gratified as she was by the + honour of this offer, yet she had the prudence to advise her son rather to + go into parliament as representative for a borough than to hazard the + expense of a contest for the county. Miss Sidney, also, whom he consulted + upon this occasion, supported his mother’s prudent advice, in the most + earnest manner; and Vivian was inclined to follow this counsel, till Lord + Glistonbury came one morning to plead the contrary side of the question: + he assured Vivian, that from his experience of the county, he was morally + certain they should carry it without trouble, and with no expense <i>worth + mentioning</i>. These were only general phrases, to be sure, not + arguments; but these, joined to her ambition to see her son member for the + county, at length overpowered Lady Mary’s better judgment: her urgent + entreaties were now joined to those of Lord Glistonbury, and of many + loud-tongued electioneerers, who proved to Vivian, by every thing but + calculation, that he must be returned if he would but stand—if he + would only declare himself. Russell and his own prudence strongly + counselled him to resist these clamorous importunities; the two preceding + candidates, whose fortunes had been nearly as good as his, had been ruined + by the contests. Vivian was very young, but just of age; and Russell + observed, “that it would be better for him to see something more of the + world, before he should embark in politics, and plunge into public + business.” “True,” said Vivian; “but Mr. Pitt was only three-and-twenty + when he was minister of England. I am not ambitious; but I should + certainly like to distinguish myself, if I could; and whilst I feel in + youth the glow of patriotism, why should I not serve my country?” + </p> + <p> + “Serve it and welcome,” said Russell: “but don’t begin by ruining yourself + by a contested election; or else, whatever glow of patriotism you may + feel, it will be out of your power to be an honest member of parliament. + If you must go into parliament immediately for the good of your country, + go in as member for some borough, which will not ruin you.” + </p> + <p> + “But the committee of our friends will be so disappointed if I decline; + and my mother, who has now set her heart upon it, and Lord Glistonbury, + and Mr. C——, and Mr. G——, and Mr. D——, + who are such zealous friends, and who urge me so much——” + </p> + <p> + “Judge for yourself,” said Russell, “and don’t let any persons who happen + to be near you persuade you to see with their eyes, and decide with their + wishes. Zealous friends, indeed!—because they love to make + themselves of consequence, by bawling and scampering about at an election!—And + you would let such people draw you on, to ruin yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “I will show you that they shall not,” cried Vivian, seizing a sheet of + paper, and sitting down immediately to write the copy of a circular letter + to his friends, informing them, with many thanks, that he declined to + stand for the county. Russell eagerly wrote copies of this letter, which + Vivian declared should be sent early the next morning. But no sooner was + Russell out of sight than Lady Mary Vivian resumed her arguments in favour + of commencing his canvass immediately, and before his friends should cool. + When she saw the letters that he had been writing, she was excessively + indignant; and, by a torrent of female and maternal eloquence, he was + absolutely overwhelmed. Auxiliaries poured in to her ladyship on all + sides; horsemen after horsemen, freeholders of all degrees, now flocked to + the house, hearing that Mr. Vivian had thoughts of standing for the + county. They were unanimously loud in their assurances of success. Old and + new copies of poll books were produced, and the different interests of the + county counted and recounted, balanced and counterbalanced, again and + again, by each person, after his own fashion: and it was proved to Mr. + Vivian, <i>in black and white, and as plain as figures could make it</i>, + that he had the game in his own hands; and that, if he would but declare + himself, the other candidate would, the very next day, they would be bound + for it, decline the contest. Vivian had a clear head, and a competent + knowledge of arithmetic; he saw the fallacies and inaccuracies in their + modes of computation; he saw, upon examining the books, that the state of + the county interests was very different from what they pretended or + believed; and he was convinced that the opposite candidate would not + decline: but after Vivian had stated these reasons ten times, and his + mother and his electioneering partisans had reiterated their assertions + twenty times, he yielded, merely because they had said twice as much as he + had, and because, poor easy man! he had not power to resist continuity of + solicitation. + </p> + <p> + He declared himself candidate for the county; and was soon immersed in all + the toil, trouble, vexation, and expense, of a contested election. Of + course, his marriage was now to be postponed till the election should be + over. Love and county politics have little affinity. What the evils of a + contested election are can be fully known only to those by whom they have + been personally experienced. The contest was bitter. The Glistonbury + interest was the strongest which supported Vivian: Lord Glistonbury and <i>his + lordship’s friends</i> were warm in his cause. Not that they had any + particular regard for Vivian; but he was to be <i>their member</i>, + opposed to the court candidate, whom his lordship was anxious to keep out + of the county. Lord Glistonbury had once been a strong friend to + government, and was thought a confirmed courtier, especially as he had + been brought up in high aristocratic notions; but he had made it his great + object to turn his earldom into a marquisate; and government having + delayed or refused to gratify him in this point, he quitted them with + disgust, and set up his standard amongst the opposition. He was now loud + and zealous on every occasion that could, as he said, <i>annoy</i> + government; and merely because he could not be a marquis, he became a + patriot. Mistaken, abused name! how glorious in its original, how + despicable in its debased signification!—Lord Glistonbury’s + exertions were indefatigable. + </p> + <p> + Vivian felt much gratitude for this apparently disinterested friendship; + and, during a few weeks, whilst this canvass was going on, he formed a + degree of intimacy with the Glistonbury family, which, in any other + circumstances, could scarcely have been brought about during months or + years. An election, in England, seems, for the time, to level all + distinctions, not only of rank, but even of pride: Lady Glistonbury + herself, at this season, found it necessary to relax from her usual + rigidity.—There was an extraordinary freedom of egress and regress; + and the haughty code of Glistonbury lay dormant. Vivian, of course, was + the centre of all interest; and, whenever he appeared, every individual of + the family was eager to inquire, “What news?—What news?—How do + things go on to-day?—How will the election turn out?—Have you + written to Mr. Such-a-one?—Have you been to Mr. Such-a-one’s?—I’ll + write a note for you—I’ll copy a letter.”—There was one common + cause—Miss Strictland even deigned to assist Mr. Vivian, and to try + her awkward hand to forward his canvass, for it was to support the + Glistonbury interest; and “there was no impropriety could attach to the + thing.” Russell’s extreme anxiety made Vivian call more frequently even + than it was necessary at the castle, to quiet his apprehensions, and to + assure him that things were going on well. Young Lord Lidhurst, who was + really good-natured, and over whose mind Russell began to gain some + ascendancy, used to stand upon the watch for Vivian’s appearance, and + would run up the back stairs to Russell’s apartment, to give him notice of + it, and to be the first to tell the news. Lady Sarah—the icy lady + Sarah herself—began to thaw; and every day, in the same phrase, she + condescended to say to Mr. Vivian, that she “hoped the poll was going on + as well as could be expected.” It was, of course, reported, that Vivian + was to succeed the late representative of the county in all its honours. + In eight days he was confidently given to Lady Sarah by the generous + public; and the day of their nuptials was positively fixed. As the lady + was, even by the account of her friends, two or three years older than Mr. + Vivian, and four or five years older by her looks, and as she was + peculiarly unsuited to his taste, he heard the report without the + slightest apprehension for his own constancy to Selina. He laughed at the + idea, as an excellent joke, when it was first mentioned to him by Russell. + Lord Glistonbury’s manners, however, and the cordial familiarity with + which he treated Vivian, gave every day increasing credit to the report. + “If he were his son, my lord could not be more anxious about Mr. Vivian,” + said one of the plain-spoken freeholders, in the presence of the Lady + Lidhursts.—Lady Sarah pursed up her mouth, and threw back her head; + but Lady Julia, archly looking at her sister, smiled. The vivacity of Lady + Julia’s manner did not appear excessive during this election time, when + all the world seemed mad; on the contrary, there was, in her utmost + freedom and raillery, that air of good-breeding and politeness, in which + vulgar mirth and liberty are always deficient. Vivian began to think that + she was become less childish, and that there was something of a mixture of + womanish timidity in her appearance, which rendered her infinitely more + attractive. One evening, in particular, when her father having sent her + for her morning’s work, she returned with a basket full of <i>the Vivian + cockade</i>, which she had made with her own delicate hands, Vivian + thought she looked “very pretty:” her father desired her to give them to + the person for whom they were intended, and she presented them to Mr. + Russell, saying, “They are for your friend, sir.”—Vivian thought she + looked “very graceful.”—Lady Mary Vivian suppressed half a sigh, and + thought she kept the whole of her mind to herself. These happy days of + canvassing, and this <i>freedom of election</i>, could not last for ever. + After polling the county to the last freeholder, the contest was at length + decided, and Vivian was declared duly elected. He was chaired, and he + scattered money with a lavish hand, as he passed over the heads of the + huzzaing populace; and he had all the honours of an election: the horses + were taken from his carriage, and he was drawn by men, who were soon + afterwards so much intoxicated, that they retained no vestige of + rationality. Not only the inferior, but the superior rank of electors, as + usual upon such occasions, thought proper to do honour to their choice, + and to their powers of judgment, by drinking their member’s health at the + expense of their own, till they could neither see, hear, nor understand. + Our hero was not by any means fond of drinking, but he could not refuse to + do as others did; and Lord Glistonbury swore, that now he had found out + that Vivian could be such a pleasant companion over a bottle, he should + never listen to his excuses in future. + </p> + <p> + A few days after this election, parliament met for the dispatch of + business; and as some important question was to come on, all the members + were summoned, by a peremptory call of the house. Vivian was obliged to go + to town immediately, and compelled to defer his marriage. He regretted + being thus hurried away from Selina; and with a thousand tender and + passionate expressions, assured her, that the moment his attendance on + public business could be spared, he should hasten to the country to claim + his promised happiness. The castle would be finished by the time the + session was over; the lawyers would also have completed their settlements; + and Vivian said he should make every other necessary preparation whilst he + was in town: therefore he urged Selina now to fix the time for their + marriage, and to let it be the first week of the recess of parliament. But + Miss Sidney, who had great delicacy of feeling and dignity of character, + thought that Vivian had of late shown some symptoms of decreased + affection, and that he had betrayed signs of unsteadiness of character. In + the whole affair of the castle-building and of the election, he had + evidently been led by others instead of following his own conviction:—she + wisely dreaded that he might, in more important actions, yield his + judgment to others; and then what security could she have for his + principles? He might, perhaps, be led into all sorts of fashionable + dissipation and vice. Besides these fears, she considered that Vivian was + the possessor of a large fortune; that his mother had with difficulty + consented to this match; that he was very young, had seen but little of + the world, and might, perhaps, in future, repent of having made, thus + early in life, a <i>love match</i>. She therefore absolutely refused to + let him now bind himself to her by any fresh promises. She desired that he + should consider himself as perfectly at liberty, and released from all + engagement to her. It was evident, however, from the manner in which she + spoke that she wished to restore her lover’s liberty for his sake only; + and that her own feelings, however they might be suppressed, were + unchanged. Vivian was touched and charmed by her delicacy and generosity: + in the fervour of his feelings he swore that his affections could never + change; and he believed what he swore. Lady Mary Vivian was struck, also, + with Miss Sidney’s conduct at parting; and she acknowledged that it was + impossible to show at once more tenderness and dignity. No one, however, + not even Vivian, knew how much pain this separation gave Selina. Her good + sense and prudence told her indeed, that it was best, both for her + happiness and Vivian’s, that he should see something more of the world, + and that she should have some farther proof of the steadiness of his + attachment, before she should unite herself with him irrevocably: but + whilst she endeavoured to fortify her mind with these reflections, love + inspired many painful fears; and, though she never repented having set him + free from his promises and engagements, she trembled for the consequences + of his being thus at liberty, in such scenes of temptation as a London + life would present. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. + </h2> + <p> + When our hero arrived in London, and when he was first introduced into + fashionable society, his thoughts were so intent upon Selina Sidney, that + he was in no danger of plunging into dissipation. He was surprised at the + eagerness with which some young men pursued frivolous pleasures: he was + still more astonished at seeing the apathy in which others of his own age + were sunk, and the listless insignificance in which they lounged away + their lives. + </p> + <p> + The call of the house, which brought Vivian to town, brought Lord + Glistonbury also to attend his duty in the house of peers: with his + lordship’s family came Mr. Russell, whom Vivian went to see, as soon and + as often as he could. Russell heard, with satisfaction, the indignant + eloquence with which his friend spoke; and only wished that these + sentiments might last, and that fashion might never lead him to imitate or + to tolerate fools, whom he now despised. + </p> + <p> + “In the mean time, tell me how you go on yourself,” said Vivian; “how do + you like your situation here, and your pupil, and all the Glistonbury + family? Let me behind the scenes at once; for, you know, I see them only + on the stage.” + </p> + <p> + Russell replied, in general terms, that he had hopes Lord Lidhurst would + turn out well, and that therefore he was satisfied with his situation; but + avoided entering into particulars, because he was a confidential person in + the family. He thought that a preceptor and a physician were, in some + respects, bound, by a similar species of honour, to speak cautiously of + the maladies of their patients, or the faults of their pupils. Admitted + into the secrets of families, they should never make use of the confidence + reposed in them, to the disadvantage of any by whom they are trusted. + Russell’s strictly honourable reserve upon this occasion was rather + provoking to Vivian, who, to all his questions, could obtain only the dry + answer of—“Judge for yourself.”—The nature of a town life, and + the sort of intercourse which capital cities afford, put this very little + in Vivian’s power. The obligations he was under to Lord Glistonbury for + assistance at the election made him anxious to show his lordship respect + and attention; and the sort of intimacy which that election had brought on + was, to a certain degree, kept up in town. Lady Mary Vivian was constantly + one at Lady Glistonbury’s card parties; and Vivian was frequently at his + lordship’s dinners. Considering the coldness and formality of Lady + Glistonbury’s manners, she was particularly attentive to Lady Mary Vivian; + and our hero was continually an attendant upon the ladies of the + Glistonbury family to all public places. This was by no means disagreeable + to him, as they were persons of <i>high consideration</i>; and they were + sure of drawing into their circle the very best company. Lady Mary Vivian + observed that it was a great advantage to her son to have such a house as + Lord Glistonbury’s open to him, to go to whenever he pleased. Besides the + advantage to his morals, her ladyship was by no means insensible to the + gratification her pride received from her son’s living in such high + company. The report which had been raised in the country during the + election, that Mr. Vivian was going to be married to Lady Sarah Lidhurst, + now began to circulate in town. This was not surprising, since a young man + in London, of any fortune or notoriety, can hardly dance three or four + times successively with the same young lady, cannot even sit beside her, + and converse with her in public half a dozen times, without its being + reported that he is going to be married to her. Of this, Vivian, during + his noviciate in town, was not perhaps sufficiently aware: he was soon + surprised at being asked, by almost every one he met, when his marriage + with Lady Sarah Lidhurst was to take place. At first he contented himself + with laughing at these questions, and declaring that there was no truth in + the report: but his asseverations were not to be believed; they were + attributed to motives of discretion: he was told by his companions, that + he kept his own counsel very well; but they all knew <i>the thing was to + be</i>: he was congratulated upon his good fortune in making such an + excellent match; for though, as they said, he would have but little money + with Lady Sarah, yet the connexion was so great, that he was the luckiest + fellow upon earth. The degree of importance which the report gave him + among the young men of his acquaintance, and the envy he excited, amused + and gratified his vanity. The sort of conversation he was now in the + constant habit of hearing, both from young and old, in all companies, + about the marriages of people in the fashionable world, where fortune, and + rank, and <i>connexion</i>, were always the first things spoken of or + considered, began insensibly to influence Vivian’s mode of speaking, if + not of judging. Before he mixed in this society, he knew perfectly well + that these were the principles by which <i>people of the world</i> are + guided; but whilst he had believed this only on hearsay, it had not + appeared to him so entirely true and so important as when he saw and heard + it himself. The effect of the opinions of a set of fine people, now he was + actually in their society, and whilst all other society was excluded from + his perception, was very different from what he had imagined it might be, + when he was in the country or at college. To do our hero justice, however, + he was sensible of this <i>aberration</i> in his own mind, he had sense + enough to perceive from what causes it arose, and steadiness sufficient to + adhere to the judgements he had previously and deliberately formed. He did + not in material points change his opinion of his mistress; he thought her + far, far superior to all he saw and heard amongst the belles who were most + admired in the fashionable world; but, at the same time, he began to agree + with his mother’s former wish, that Selina, added to all other merits, had + the advantage of high birth and connexions, or at least, of belonging to a + certain class of high company. He determined that, as soon as she should + be his wife, he would have her introduced to the very <i>first society</i> + in town: he pleased his imagination with anticipating the change that + would be made in her appearance, by the addition of certain elegancies of + the mode: he delighted in thinking of the sensation she would produce, and + the respect that would be paid to her as Mrs. Vivian, surrounded as he + would take care that she should be, with all those external signs of + wealth and fashion, which command immediate and universal homage from the + great and little world. + </p> + <p> + One day, when Vivian was absorbed in these pleasing reveries, Russell + startled him with this question: “When are you to be married to Lady Sarah + Lidhurst?” + </p> + <p> + “From you such a question!” said Vivian. + </p> + <p> + “Why not from me? It is a question that every body asks of me, because I + am your intimate friend; and I should really be obliged to you, if you + would furnish me with an answer, that may give me an air of a little more + consequence than that which I have at present, being forced to answer, ‘I + don’t know.’” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t know! but why do not you answer, ‘Never!’ as I do,” said + Vivian, “to all the fools who ask me the same question?” + </p> + <p> + “Because they say that is your answer, and only <i>a come off</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t help it—Is it my fault if they won’t believe the truth?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, people are apt to trust to appearances in these cases; and if + appearances are contrary to your assertions, you should not wonder that + you are not believed.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, time will show them their mistake!” said Vivian.—“But I don’t + know what appearances you mean.—What appearances are against me?—I + never in my life saw a woman I was less disposed to like—whom it + would be more impossible for me to love—than Lady Sarah Lidhurst; + and I am sure I never gave her, or any of her family, the least reason to + imagine I had a thought of her.” + </p> + <p> + “Very likely; yet you are at Lord Glistonbury’s continually, and you + attend her ladyship to all public places. Is this the way, do you think, + to put a stop to the report that has been raised?” + </p> + <p> + “I care not whether it stops or goes on,” said Vivian.—“How!—Don’t + I know it is false?—That’s enough for me.” + </p> + <p> + “It may embarrass you yet,” said Russell. + </p> + <p> + “Good Heavens!—Can you, who know me so well, Russell, fancy me so + weak as to be embarrassed by such a report? Look—I would rather put + this hand into that fire and let it be burned off, than offer it to Lady + Sarah Lidhurst.” + </p> + <p> + “Very likely.—I don’t doubt you think so,” said Russell. + </p> + <p> + “And I would do so,” said Vivian. + </p> + <p> + “Possibly.—Yet you might be embarrassed nevertheless, if you found + that you had raised expectations which you could not fulfil; and if you + found yourself accused of having jilted this lady, if all her friends were + to say you had used her very ill.—I know your nature, Vivian; these + things would disquiet you very much: and is it not better to prevent + them?” + </p> + <p> + “But neither Lady Sarah nor her friends blame me: I see no signs in the + family of any of the thoughts or feelings you suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “Ladies—especially young and fashionable ladies—do not always + show their thoughts or feelings,” said Russell. + </p> + <p> + “Lady Sarah Lidhurst has no thoughts or feelings,” said Vivian, “any more + than an automaton. I’ll answer for her—I am sure I can do her the + justice to proclaim, that she has always, from the first moment I saw her + till this instant, conducted herself towards me with the same petrified + and petrifying propriety.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know what <i>petrified propriety</i> exactly means,” said + Russell: “but let it mean what it may, it is nothing to the present + purpose; for the question is not about the propriety of Lady Sarah + Lidhurst’s conduct, but of yours. Now, allowing you to call her ladyship a + petrifaction, or an automaton, or by whatever other name you please, + still, I apprehend, that she is in reality a human creature, and a woman; + and I conceive it is the duty of a man of honour or honesty not to deceive + her.” + </p> + <p> + “I would not deceive her, or any woman living, upon any account,” said + Vivian. “But how is it possible I can deceive her, when I tell you I never + said a word about love or gallantry, or any thing like it, to her in my + life?” + </p> + <p> + “But you know language is conventional, especially in gallantry,” said + Russell. + </p> + <p> + “True; but I’ll swear the language of my looks has been unequivocal, if + that is what you mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Not exactly: there are certain signs by which the world JUDGES in these + cases—if a gentleman is seen often with the same lady in public.” + </p> + <p> + “Absurd, troublesome, ridiculous signs, which would put a stop to all + society; which would prevent a man from conversing with a woman, either in + public or private; and must absolutely preclude one sex from obtaining any + real knowledge of the characters and dispositions of the other.” + </p> + <p> + “I admit all you say—I feel the truth of it—I wish this were + changed in society; it is a great inconvenience, a real evil,” said + Russell: “but an individual cannot alter a custom; and, as you have not, + by your own account, any particular interest in becoming more intimately + acquainted with the character and disposition of Lady Sarah Lidhurst, you + will do well not to expose yourself to any inconvenience on her account, + by neglecting common received forms and opinions.” + </p> + <p> + “Well! well!—say no more about it,” said Vivian, impatiently; “spare + me all farther logic and morality upon this subject, and I’ll do what you + please—only tell me what you would have me do.” + </p> + <p> + “Gradually withdraw yourself for some time from this house, and the report + will die away of itself.” + </p> + <p> + “Withdraw myself!—that would be very hard upon me!” cried Vivian; + “for this house is the most agreeable house in town to me;—because + you live in it, in the first place; and then, though the women are as + stiff as pokers, one is always sure of meeting all the pleasant and clever + men at Glistonbury’s good dinner. Let me tell you, good dinners, and good + company, and good conversation, and good music, make altogether a very + pleasant house, which I should be confoundedly sorry to be forced to give + up.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t doubt it,” said Russell; “but we must often give up more even + than this for the sake of acting with consistency and honour; we must + sacrifice the less to the greater good; and it is on these occasions that + people show strength or weakness of mind.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian felt the justice of his friend’s observations—resolved to + follow his advice—and to withdraw himself gradually from the + Glistonbury circle. He had not, however, steadiness enough to persist in + this resolution; one engagement linked on another; and he would soon, + probably, have relapsed into his habit of being continually of their + parties, if accident had not for a time suspended this intimacy, by + leading him into another, which seemed to him still more attractive. + </p> + <p> + Among the men of talents and political consequence whom he met at Lord + Glistonbury’s was Mr. Wharton, whose conversation particularly pleased + Vivian, and who now courted his acquaintance with an eagerness which was + peculiarly flattering. Vivian knew him only as a man of great abilities; + with his real character he was not acquainted. Wharton had prepossessing + manners, and wit sufficient whenever he pleased to make the worse appear + the better reason. In private or in public debate he had at his command, + and could condescend to employ, all sorts of arms, and every possible mode + of annoyance, from the most powerful artillery of logic to the lowest + squib of humour. He was as little nice in the company he kept as in the + style of his conversation. Frequently associating with fools, and willing + even to be thought one, he made alternately his sport and advantage of the + weakness and follies of mankind. Wharton was philosophically, politically, + and fashionably profligate. After having ruined his private fortune by + unbounded extravagance, he lived on—nobody knew how—in + careless profusion. In public life he made a distinguished figure; and + seemed, therefore, to think himself raised above the necessity of + practising any of the minor virtues of economy, prudence, or justice, + which common people find essential to their well-being in society. Far + from attempting to conceal, he gloried in his faults; for he knew full + well, that as long as he had the voice of numbers with him, he could + bully, or laugh, or shame plain reason and rigid principle out of + countenance. It was his grand art to represent good sense as stupidity, + and virtue as hypocrisy. Hypocrisy was, in his opinion, the only vice + which merited the brand of infamy; and from this he took sufficient care + to prove, or at least to proclaim, himself free. Even whilst he offended + against the decencies of life, there seemed to be something frank and + graceful in his manner of throwing aside all disguise. There appeared an + air of superior liberality in his avowing himself to be governed by that + absolute selfishness, which other men strive to conceal even from their + own hearts. He dexterously led his acquaintance to infer that he would + prove as much better than his professions, as other people are often found + to be worse than theirs. Where he wished to please, it was scarcely + possible to escape the fascination of his manner; nor did he neglect any + mode of courting popularity. He knew that a good table is necessary to + attract even men of wit; and he made it a point to have the very best + cook, and the very best wines. He paid his cook, and his cook was the only + person he did pay, in ready money. His wine-merchant he paid in words—an + art in which he was a professed and yet a successful adept, as hundreds of + living witnesses were ready to attest. But though Wharton could cajole, he + could not attach his fellow-creatures—he had a party, but no friend. + With this distribution of things he was perfectly satisfied; for he + considered men only as beings who were to be worked to his purposes; and + he declared that, provided he had power over their interests and their + humours, he cared not what became of their hearts. It was his policy to + enlist young men of talents or fortune under his banners; and consequently + Vivian was an object worthy of his attention. Such was the disorder of + Wharton’s affairs, that either ready money or political power was + necessary to his existence. Our hero could, at the same time, supply his + extravagance and increase his consequence. Wharton thought that he could + borrow money from Vivian, and that he might command his vote in + parliament; but, to the accomplishment of these schemes, there were two + obstacles—Vivian was attached to an amiable woman, and was possessed + of an estimable friend. Wharton had become acquainted with Russell at Lord + Glistonbury’s; and, in many arguments which they had held on public + affairs, had discovered that Russell was not a man who ever preferred the + expedient to the right, nor one who could be bullied or laughed out of his + principles. He saw also that Russell’s influence over Vivian was so great, + that it supplied him with that strength of mind in which Vivian was + naturally deficient; and, if our hero should marry such a woman as Miss + Sidney, Wharton foresaw that he should have no chance of succeeding in his + designs; therefore his first objects were, to detach Vivian from his + friend Russell and from Selina. One morning he called upon Vivian with a + party of his friends, and found him writing. + </p> + <p> + “Poetry!” cried Wharton, carelessly looking at what he had, been writing, + “poetry, I protest!—Ay, I know this poor fellow’s in love; and every + man who is in love is a poet, ‘with a woeful ditty to his mistress’s + eyebrow.’ Pray what colour may Miss Sidney’s eyebrows be?—she is + really a pretty girl—I think I remember seeing her at some races.—Why + does she never come to town?—But of course she is not to blame for + that, but her fortune I suppose.—Marrying a girl without a fortune + is a serious thing in these expensive days; but you have fortune enough + for both yourself and your wife, so you may do as you please. Well, I + thank God, I have no fortune! If I had been a young man of fortune I + should have been the most unhappy rascal upon earth, for I should have + always suspected that every woman liked me for my wealth—I should + have had no pleasure in the smiles of an angel—angels, or their + mothers, are so venal now-a-days, and so fond of the pomps and vanities of + this wicked world!” + </p> + <p> + “I hope,” said Vivian, laughing, “you don’t include the whole sex in your + satire.” + </p> + <p> + “No—there are exceptions—and every man has his angel of an + exception, as every woman has her star:—it is well for weak women + when these stars of theirs don’t lead them astray; and well for weak men + when these angel exceptions before marriage don’t turn out very women or + devils afterwards. But why do I say all this? because I am a suspicious + scoundrel—I know and can’t help it. If other fellows of my standing + in this wicked world would but speak the truth, however, they would show + as much suspicion and more than I do. Bad as I am, and such as I am, you + see, and have the whole of me—nobody can say Wharton’s a hypocrite; + that’s some comfort. But, seriously, Vivian, I don’t mean to laugh at love + and angels—I can just remember the time when I felt all your sort of + romance—but that is in the preterpluperfect tense with me—completely + past—ambition is no bad cure for love. My head is, at this present + moment, so full of this new bill that we are bringing into parliament, + that Cupid might empty his quiver upon me in vain.—Look! here is an + impenetrable shield!” added he, wrapping round him a thick printed copy of + an act of parliament. “Come, Vivian, you must come along with us to the + house, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘And, mix’d with men, a man you must appear.’” + </pre> + <p> + Vivian felt much ashamed of having been detected in writing a sonnet, + especially as it afforded Wharton such a fine subject for raillery. He + accompanied the party to the House of Commons, where Wharton made a + brilliant speech. It gained universal applause. Vivian sympathized in the + general enthusiasm of admiration for Wharton’s talents, accepted an + invitation to sup with him, and was charmed by his convivial powers. From + this day, he grew every hour more intimate with Wharton. + </p> + <p> + “I can enjoy,” thought Vivian, “the pleasure of his society without being + influenced by his libertine example.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Mary Vivian saw the rise and progress of this intimacy, and was not + insensible to its danger; yet she was gratified by seeing her son + distinguished by a man of Wharton’s political consequence; and she + satisfied her conscience by saying, “He will bring my son forward in + public life; and, as to the rest, Charles has too good principles ever to + follow his example in private life.” + </p> + <p> + Wharton had too much address to alarm Vivian’s moral prejudices on a first + acquaintance. He contented himself with ridiculing only the exaggeration + of any of the virtues, still affecting to believe in virtue, and to love + it, wherever it could be found genuine. By the success of his first petty + attacks, he learned the power that ridicule had over our hero’s mind; and + he did not fail to make use of it continually. After having, as he + perceived, succeeded in making Vivian ashamed of his sonnet to Selina, and + of appearing as a romantic lover, he doubted not but in time he should + make <i>true</i> love itself ridiculous; and Wharton thought it was now + the moment to hazard another stroke, and to commence his attack against + friendship. + </p> + <p> + “Vivian, my good fellow! why do you let yourself be ruled by that modern + stoic in the form of Lord Lidhurst’s tutor? I never saw any of these cold + moralists who were real, warm-hearted, good friends. I have a notion I see + more of Russell’s play in the house where he has got than he thinks I do; + and I can form a shrewd guess why he was so zealous in warning you of the + report about Lady Sarah Lidhurst—he had his own snug reasons for + wanting you away—Oh, trust me for scenting out self-interest, + through all the doublings and windings of your cunning moralist!” + </p> + <p> + Reddening with indignation at this attack upon his friend, Vivian warmly + replied, that Mr. Wharton ought to restrain his wit where the feelings of + friendship and the character of a man of honour were concerned; that he + did not, in the least, comprehend his insinuations with regard to Russell; + but that, for his own part, he had such firm reliance upon his friend’s + attachment and integrity, that he was at any time ready to pledge his own + honour for Russell’s, and to answer for it with his life. + </p> + <p> + “Spare your heroics, my dear Vivian!” cried Wharton, laughing; “for we are + not in the days of Pylades and Orestes;—yet, upon my soul, instead + of being as angry with you as you are with me, at this instant I like you + a thousand times the better for your enthusiastic credulity. For my part, + I have, ever since I lived in the world and put away childish things, + regretted that charming instinct of credulity, which experience so fatally + counteracts. I envy you, my dear boy!—as to the rest, you know + Russell’s merits better than I do: I’ll take him henceforward upon trust + from you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thus Wharton, finding that he was upon dangerous ground, made a timely + retreat: the playful manner and open countenance with which he now spoke, + and the quick transition that he made to other subjects of conversation, + prevented Vivian from suspecting that any settled design had been formed + to detach him from Russell. From this time forward, Wharton forbore + raillery on love and friendship; and, far from seeming desirous of + interfering in Vivian’s private concerns, appeared quite absorbed in + politics. Avowing, as he did, that he was guided solely by his interest in + public life, he laughed at Vivian for professing more generous principles. + </p> + <p> + “I know,” cried Wharton, “how to make use of a fine word, and to round a + fine sentence, as well as the best of you; but what a simpleton he must be + who is cheated by his own sophistry!—An artist, an enthusiastic + artist, who is generally half a madman, might fall in love with a statue + of his own making; but you never heard of a coiner, did you, who was + cheated by his own bad shilling? Patriotism and loyalty are counterfeit + coin; I can’t be taken in by them at my time of day.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian could not forbear to smile at the drollery and wit with which this + profligate defended his want of integrity; yet he sometimes seriously and + warmly asserted his own principles. Upon these occasions, Wharton either + overpowered him by a fine flow of words, or else listened with the most + flattering air of admiration, and silenced him by compliments to his + eloquence. Vivian thought that he was quite secure of his own firmness; + but the contagion of bad example sometimes affects the mind imperceptibly; + as certain noxious atmospheres steal upon the senses, and excite the most + agreeable sensations, while they secretly destroy the principles of health + and life. A day was fixed when a question of importance was to come on in + the House of Commons. Wharton was extremely anxious to have Vivian’s vote. + Vivian, according to the parliamentary phrase, <i>had not made up his mind</i> + on the subject. A heap of pamphlets on the question lay uncut upon his + table. Every morning he resolved to read them, that he might form his + judgment, and vote according to his unbiassed opinion; but every morning + he was interrupted by some of the fashionable idlers whom his facility of + temper had indulged in the habit of haunting him daily. “Oh, Vivian! we + are going to such and such a place, and you <i>must</i> come with us!” was + a mode of persuasion which he could not resist. + </p> + <p> + “If I don’t do as they do,” thought he, “I shall be quite unfashionable. + Russell may say what he pleases, but it is necessary to yield to one’s + companions in trifles. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Whoever would be pleased and please, + Must do what others do with ease.’” + </pre> + <p> + This couplet, which had been repeated to him by Wharton, recurred to him + continually; and thus Wharton, by slight means, in which he seemed to have + no interest or design, prepared Vivian for his purposes, by working + gradually on the easiness of his disposition. He always argued, that it + could not possibly signify what he did with an hour or two of his day, + till at last Vivian found that he had no hours of his own, that his whole + time was at the disposal of others; and now that he really wanted leisure + to consider an important question,—when his credit, as a member of + the senate, and as a man just entering political life, depended on this + decision,—he literally could not command time to read over the + necessary documents. So the appointed day arrived before Vivian’s opinion + was formed; and, from mere want of time to decide for himself, he voted as + Wharton desired. Another and another political question came on; the same + causes operated, and the same consequences ensued. Wharton managed with + great address, so as to prevent him from feeling that he gave up his + freewill. Before Vivian was aware of it, whilst he thought that he was + perfectly independent of all parties, public opinion had enrolled him + amongst Wharton’s partisans. Of this Russell was the first to give him + warning. Russell heard of it amongst the political leaders who met at Lord + Glistonbury’s dinners; and, knowing the danger there is of a young man’s + <i>committing</i> himself on certain points, he, with the eagerness of a + true friend, wrote immediately to put Vivian upon his guard:— + </p> + <p> + “My Dear Vivian, + </p> + <p> + “I am just going into the country with Lord Lidhurst, and perhaps may not + return for some time. I cannot leave you without putting you on your + guard, once more, against Mr. Wharton. I understand that you are thought + to be one of his party, and that he countenances the report. Take care + that you are not bound hand and foot, before you know where you are. + </p> + <p> + “Your sincere friend, + </p> + <p> + “H. Russell.” + </p> + <p> + With the natural frankness of his disposition, Vivian immediately spoke to + Wharton upon the subject. + </p> + <p> + “What! people say that you are one of my party, do they?” said Wharton: “I + never heard this before, but I am heartily glad to hear it. You are in for + it now, Vivian: you are one of us; and with us you must stand or fall.” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me there!” cried Vivian; “I am not of any party; and am determined + to keep myself independent.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you remember the honest Quaker’s answer to the man of no party?” said + Wharton. + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “I think it was about the year ‘40, when party disputes about Whig and + Tory ran high—but no matter what year, it will do for any time. A + gentleman of undeviating integrity, an independent man, just such a man as + Mr. Vivian, offered himself candidate for a town in the east, west, north, + or south of England—no matter where, it will do for any place; and + the first person whose vote he solicited was a Quaker, who asked him + whether he was a Whig or Tory?—‘Neither. I am an independent, + moderate man; and when the members of administration are right, I will + vote with them—when wrong, against them.’ ‘And be these really thy + principles?’ quoth the Quaker; ‘then a vote of mine thou shalt never have. + Thou seest my door, it leadeth into the street; the right hand side of + which is for the Tory, the left for the Whigs; and for a cold-blooded + moderate man, like thee, there is the kennel, and into it thou wilt be + jostled, for thou beest not <i>decided</i> enough for any other + situation.’” + </p> + <p> + “But why should the moderate man be condemned to the kennel?” said Vivian. + “Was there no middle to your Quaker’s road? A stout man cannot be EASILY + jostled into the kennel.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw! pshaw!” said Wharton: “jesting out of the question, a man is + nothing in public life, or worse than nothing, a <i>trimmer</i>, unless HE + JOINS a party, and unless he abides by it, too.” + </p> + <p> + “As long as the party is in the right, I presume, you mean,” said Vivian. + </p> + <p> + “Right or wrong’” cried Wharton, “a man must abide by his party. No power, + and no popularity, trust me, without it!—Better stride on the greasy + heads of the mob than be trampled under their dirtier feet. An armed + neutrality may be a good thing, but an unarmed neutrality is fit only for + fools. Besides, in Russell’s grand style, I can bring down the ancients + upon you, and tell you that when the commonwealth is in danger he cannot + be a good man who sides with neither party.” + </p> + <p> + “If it be so necessary to join a party, and if, after once joining it, I + must abide by it, right or wrong, for life,” said Vivian, “it behoves me + to consider well, before I commit myself; and, before I go into the ranks, + I must see good reason to confide, not only in the abilities, but in the + integrity and public virtue of my leader.” + </p> + <p> + “Public virtue! sounds fresh from college,” said Wharton; “I would as + soon, and sooner, hear a schoolboy read his theme as hear a man begin to + prose about public virtue—especially a member of parliament. Keep + that phrase, my dear Vivian, till some of the treasury bench come to court + you; then look superb, like a French tragic actor, swelling out your + chest, and throwing the head over the left shoulder—thus—exclaim, + ‘Public virtue forbid!’—practise! practise!—for if you do it + well, it may be worth a loud huzza to you yet; or better still, a snug + place or pension. But stay till you’re asked—stay till you’re asked—that’s + the etiquette; never till then let me hear public virtue come out of your + lips, else you’ll raise suspicion of your virtue, and lower your price. + What would you think of a pretty actress who began to talk to you of her + reputation before you put it in any danger? Oh, Vivian! my honest fellow! + unless you would make me think you no better than thousands that have gone + before you, never let me hear from your lips again, till the <i>proper</i> + time, the hypocritical state phrase—public virtue.” + </p> + <p> + “I had always, till now, understood that it was possible to be a patriot + without being a hypocrite,” replied Vivian; “I always understood that Mr. + Wharton was a patriot.” + </p> + <p> + “A very fair sarcasm on me,” said Wharton, laughing. “But you know, I’m a + sad dog; never set myself up for a pattern man.—Come! let’s home to + dinner, and a truce with politics and morality. I find, Vivian, you’re a + sturdy fellow, and must have your own way; no bending, no leading you, I + see. Well! it is a good thing to have so much strength of mind: I envy + you.” + </p> + <p> + It must be recorded to the credit of our hero, that in defiance of + Wharton’s raillery, he talked, and—oh! still more wonderful!—thought + of public virtue, during nearly half of his first session in parliament. + But, alas! whilst his political principles thus withstood the force of + ridicule, temptation soon presented itself to Vivian in a new shape, and + in a form so seducing, as to draw his attention totally away from + politics, and to put his private, if not his public, honour, in the most + imminent peril. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. + </h2> + <p> + One morning, as Vivian was walking with Mr. Wharton up Bond-street, they + were met by a party of fashionable loungers, one of whom asked whether + Mrs. Wharton was not come to town yet. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Wharton!” said Vivian, with an air of surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she came to town this morning,” said Wharton, carelessly; then + laughing, as he turned to look at Vivian, “Vivian, my good fellow! what + smites you with such surprise? Did not you know I was married?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I must have heard it; but I really forgot it,” said Vivian. + </p> + <p> + “There you had the advantage of me,” said Wharton, still laughing. “But if + you never heard of Mrs. Wharton before, keep your own secret; for I can + tell you she would never forgive you, though I might. Put a good face on + the matter, at any rate; and swear you’ve heard so much of her, that you + were dying to see her. Some of these gentlemen, who have nothing else to + do, will introduce you whenever you please.” + </p> + <p> + “And cannot I,” said Vivian, “have the honour of your introduction?” + </p> + <p> + “Mine! the worst you could possibly have. The honour, as you are pleased + to call it, would be no favour, I assure you. The honour!—honour of + a husband’s introduction! What a novice you are, or would make me believe + you to be! But, seriously, I am engaged to-day at Glistonbury’s: so, good + morning to you.” + </p> + <p> + Accustomed to hear Wharton talk in the freest manner of women and marriage + in general, and scarcely having heard him mention his own wife, Vivian + had, as he said, absolutely forgotten that Wharton was a married man. When + he was introduced to Mrs. Wharton, he was still more surprised at her + husband’s indifference; for he beheld a lady in all the radiance of + beauty, and all the elegance of fashion: he was so much dazzled by her + charms, that he had not immediately power or inclination to examine what + her understanding or disposition might be; and he could only repeat to + himself, “How is it possible that Wharton can be indifferent to such a + beautiful creature!” + </p> + <p> + Incapable of feeling any of what he, called the romance of love, the + passion, of course, had always been with Mr. Wharton of a very transient + nature. Tired of his wife’s person, he showed his indifference without + scruple or ceremony. Notorious and glorying in his gallantries, he was + often heard to declare, that no price was too high to be paid for beauty, + except a man’s liberty; but that was a sacrifice which he would never make + to any woman, especially to a wife. Marriage vows and custom-house oaths + he classed in the same order of technical forms,—nowise binding on + the conscience of any but fools and dupes. Whilst the husband went on in + this manner, the wife satisfied herself by indulgence in her strongest + passions—the passion for dress and public admiration. Childishly + eager to set the fashion in trifles, she spent unconscionable sums on her + pretty person; and devoted all her days, or rather all her nights, to + public amusements. So insatiable and restless is the passion for + admiration, that she was never happy for half an hour together, at any + place of public amusement, unless she fixed the gaze of numbers. The first + winter after her marriage she enjoyed the prerogatives of a fashionable + beauty; but the reign of fashion is more transient even than the bloom of + beauty. Mrs. Wharton’s beauty soon grew familiar, and faded in the public + eye; some newer face was this season the mode. Mrs. Wharton appeared twice + at the opera in the most elegant and becoming dresses; but no one followed + her lead. Mortified and utterly dejected, she felt, with the keenest + anguish, the first symptoms of the decline of public admiration. It was + just at this period, when she was miserably in want of the consolations of + flattery, that Vivian’s acquaintance with her commenced. Gratified by the + sort of delighted surprise which she saw in his countenance the first + moment he beheld her, seeing that he was an agreeable man, and knowing + that he was a man of fortune and family, she took pains to please him by + all the common arts of coquetry. But his vanity was proof against these: + the weakness of the lady’s understanding and the frivolity of her + character were, for some weeks, sufficient antidotes against all the power + of her personal charms; so much so, that at this period he often compared, + or rather contrasted, Mrs. Wharton and Selina, and blessed his happy fate. + He wrote to his friend Russell soon after he was introduced to this + celebrated beauty, and drew a strong and just parallel between the + characters of these two ladies: he concluded with saying, “Notwithstanding + your well-founded dread of the volatility of my character, you will not, I + hope, my dear Russell, do me the injustice to apprehend that I am in any + danger from the charms of Mrs. Wharton.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian wrote with perfect sincerity; he believed it to be impossible that + he could ever become attached to such a woman as Mrs. Wharton, even if she + had not been married, and the wife of his friend. So, in all the security + of conscious contempt, he went every day to wait upon her, or rather to + meet agreeable company at her house,—a house in which all that was + fashionable and dissipated assembled; where beauty, and talents, and rank, + met and mingled; and where political or other arrangements prevented the + host and hostess from scrupulously excluding some whose characters were + not free from suspicion. Lady Mary Vivian never went to Mrs. Wharton’s; + but she acknowledged that she knew many ladies of unblemished reputation + who thought it no impropriety to visit there; and Mrs. Wharton’s own + character she knew was hitherto unimpeached. “She is, indeed, a woman of a + cold, selfish temper,” said Lady Mary; “not likely to be led into danger + by the tender passion, or by any of the delusions of the imagination.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian agreed with his mother in this opinion, and went on paying his + devoirs to her every day. It was the fashion of the times, and peculiarly + the mode of this house, for the gentlemen to pay exclusive attention to + matrons. Few of the young men seemed to think it worth while to speak to + an unmarried woman in any company; and the few who might be inclined to it + were, as they declared, deterred by the danger: for either the young + ladies themselves, or their mothers, immediately formed expectations and + schemes of drawing them into matrimony—the grand object of the + ladies’ wishes and of the gentlemen’s fears. The men said they could not + speak to an unmarried woman, or even dance with her more than twice, + without its being reported that they were going to be married; and then + the friends and relatives of the young ladies pretended to think them + injured and ill-treated, if these reports were not realized. Our hero had + some slight experience of the truth of these complaints in his own case + with the Lady Sarah Lidhurst: he willingly took the rest upon trust—believed + all the exaggerations of his companions—and began to think it + prudent and necessary to follow their example, and to confine his + attentions to married women. Many irresistible reasons concurred to make + Mrs. Wharton the most convenient and proper person to whom he could pay + this sort of homage: besides, she seemed to fall to his share by lot and + necessity; for, at Wharton’s house, every other lady and every other + gentleman being engaged in gallantry, play, or politics, Mrs. Wharton must + have been utterly neglected if Vivian had not paid her some attention. + Common politeness absolutely required it; the attention became a matter of + course, and was habitually expected. Still he had not the slightest design + of going beyond the line of modern politeness; but, in certain + circumstances, people go wrong a great way before they are aware that they + have gone a single step. It was presently repeated to Mr. Vivian, by some + of Mrs. Wharton’s confidantes, in whispers, and under the solemn promise + of secrecy, that he certainly was a prodigious favourite of hers. He + laughed, and affected to disbelieve the insinuation: it made its + impression, however; and he was secretly flattered by the idea of being a + prodigious favourite with such a beautiful young creature. In some moments + he saw her with eyes of compassion, pitying her for the neglect with which + she was treated by her husband: he began to attribute much of her apparent + frivolity, and many of her faults, more to the want of a guide and a + friend than to a deficiency of understanding or to defects of character. + Mrs. Wharton had just sufficient sense to be cunning—this implies + but a very small portion: she perceived the advantage which she gained by + thus working upon Vivian’s vanity and upon his compassion. She continued + her operations, without being violently interested in their success; for + she had at first only a general wish to attract his attention, because he + was a fashionable young man. + </p> + <p> + One morning when he called upon Wharton to accompany him to the House of + Commons, he found Mrs. Wharton in tears, her husband walking up and down + the room in evident ill-humour. He stopped speaking when Vivian entered; + and Mrs. Wharton endeavoured, or seemed to endeavour, to conceal her + emotion. She began to play on her harp; and Wharton, addressing himself to + Vivian, talked of the politics of the day. There was some incoherence in + the conversation; for Vivian’s attention was distracted by the air that + Mrs. Wharton was playing, of which he was passionately fond. + </p> + <p> + “There’s no possibility of doing any thing while there is such a cursed + noise in the room!” cried Wharton. “Here I have the heads of this bill to + draw up—I cannot endure to have music wherever I go—” + </p> + <p> + He snatched up his papers and retired to an adjoining apartment, begging + that Vivian would wait one quarter of an hour for him.—Mrs. + Wharton’s tears flowed afresh, and she looked beautiful in tears. + </p> + <p> + “You see—you see, Mr. Vivian—and I am ashamed you should see—how + I am treated.—I am, indeed, the most unfortunate creature upon the + face of the earth; and nobody in this world has the least compassion for + me!” + </p> + <p> + Vivian’s countenance contradicted this last assertion most positively.—Mrs. + Wharton understood this; and her attitude of despondency was the most + graceful imaginable. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Mrs. Wharton”—(it was the first time our hero had ever + called her “his dear Mrs. Wharton;” but it was only a platonic dear)—“you + take trifles much too seriously—Wharton was hurried by business—a + moment’s impatience must be forgiven.” + </p> + <p> + “A moment!” replied Mrs. Wharton, casting up to heaven her beautiful eyes—“Oh! + Mr. Vivian, how little do you know of him!—I am the most miserable + creature that ever existed; but there is not a man upon earth to whom I + would say so except yourself.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian could not help feeling some gratitude for this distinction; and, as + he leaned over her harp with an air of unusual interest, he said he hoped + that he should ever prove himself worthy of her esteem and confidence. + </p> + <p> + At this instant Wharton interrupted the conversation, by passing hastily + through the room.—“Come, Vivian,” said he; “we shall be very late at + the house.” + </p> + <p> + “We shall see you again of course at dinner,” said Mrs. Wharton to Vivian + in a low voice. Our hero replied by an assenting bow. + </p> + <p> + Five minutes afterwards he repented that he had accepted the invitation, + because he foresaw that he should resume a conversation which was at once + interesting and embarrassing. He felt that it was not right to become the + depository of this lady’s complaints against her husband; yet he had been + moved by her tears, and the idea that he was <i>the only man in the world</i> + to whom she would open her heart upon such a delicate subject, interested + him irresistibly in her favour. He returned in the evening, and was + flattered by observing, that amongst the crowd of company by which she was + surrounded he was instantly distinguished. He was perfectly persuaded of + the innocence of her intentions; and, as he was attached to another woman, + he fancied that he could become the friend of the beautiful Mrs. Wharton + without danger. The first time he had an opportunity of speaking to her in + private, he expressed this idea in the manner that he thought the most + delicately flattering to her self-complacency. Mrs. Wharton seemed to be + perfectly satisfied with this conduct; and declared, that unless she had + been certain that he was not a man of gallantry, she should never have + placed any confidence in his friendship. + </p> + <p> + “I consider you,” said she, “quite as a married man:—by-the-bye, + when are you to be married, and what sort of a person is Miss Sidney?—I + am told she is excessively handsome, and amiable, and sensible.—What + a happy creature she is!—just going to be united to the man she + loves!” Here the lady gave a profound sigh; and Vivian had an opportunity + of observing that she had the longest dark eyelashes that he had ever + seen. + </p> + <p> + “I was married,” continued she, “before I knew what I was about. You know + Mr. Wharton can be so charming when he pleases—and then he was so + much in love with me, and swore he would shoot himself if I would not have + him—and all that sort of thing.—I protest I was terrified; and + I was quite a child, you know. I had been out but six weeks, and I thought + I was in love with him. That was because I did not know what love was—<i>then</i>;—besides, + he hurried and teased me to such a degree!—After all, I’m convinced + I married him more out of compassion than any thing else; and now you see + how he treats me!—most barbarously and tyrannically!—But I + would not give the least hint of this to any man living but yourself. I + conjure you to keep my secret—and—pity me!—that is all I + ask—pity me sometimes, when your thoughts are not absorbed in a + happier manner.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian’s generosity was piqued: he could not be so selfish as to be + engrossed exclusively by his own felicity. He thought that delicacy should + induce him to forbear expatiating upon Selina’s virtues and + accomplishments, or upon his passion. He carried this delicacy so far, + that sometimes for a fortnight or three weeks he never mentioned her name. + He could not but observe that Mrs. Wharton did not like him the less for + this species of sacrifice. It may be observed, that Mrs. Wharton managed + her attack upon Vivian with more art than could be expected from so silly + a woman; but we must consider that all her faculties were concentrated on + one object; so that she seemed to have an instinct for coquetry. The most + silly animals in the creation, from the insect tribe upwards, show, on + some occasions, where their interests are immediately concerned, a degree + of sagacity and ingenuity, which, compared with their usual imbecility, + appears absolutely wonderful. The opinion which Vivian had early formed of + the weakness of this lady’s understanding prevented him from being on his + guard against her artifices: he could not conceive it possible that he + should be duped by a person so obviously his inferior. With a woman of + talents and knowledge, he might have been suspicious; but there was + nothing in Mrs. Wharton to alarm his pride or to awaken his fears: he + fancied that he could extricate himself in a moment, and with the + slightest effort, from any snares which she could contrive; and, under + this persuasion, he neglected to make even that slight effort, and thus + continued from hour to hour in voluntary captivity. + </p> + <p> + Insensibly Vivian became more interested for Mrs. Wharton; and, at the + same time, submitted with increased facility to the influence of her + husband. It was necessary that he should have some excuse to the world, + and yet more to his own conscience, for being so constantly at Wharton’s. + The pleasure he took in Wharton’s conversation was still a sort of + involuntary excuse to himself for his intimacy with the lady. “Wharton’s + wit more than Mrs. Wharton’s beauty,” thought he, “is the attraction that + draws me here—I am full as ready to be of his parties as of hers; + and this is the best proof that all is as it should be.” + </p> + <p> + Wharton’s parties were not always such as Vivian would have chosen; but he + was pressed on, without power of resistance. For instance, one night + Wharton was going with Lord Pontipool and a set of dissipated young men, + to the house of a lady who made herself fashionable by keeping a + faro-bank. + </p> + <p> + “Vivian, you’ll come along with us?” said Wharton. “Come, we must have you—unless + you are more happily engaged.” + </p> + <p> + His eye glanced with a mixture of contempt and jealousy upon his wife. + Mrs. Wharton’s alarmed and imploring countenance at the same moment seemed + to say, “For Heaven’s sake, go with him, or I am undone.” In such + circumstances it was impossible for Vivian to say no: he followed + immediately; acting, as he thought, from a principle of honour and + generosity. Wharton was not a man to give up the advantage which he had + gained. Every day he showed more capricious jealousy of his wife, though + he, at the same time, expressed the most entire confidence in the honour + of his friend. Vivian still thought he could not do too much to convince + him that his confidence was not misplaced; and thus, to protect Mrs. + Wharton from suspicion, he yielded to all her husband’s wishes. Vivian now + felt frequently ashamed of his conduct, but always proud of his motives; + and, with ingenious sophistry, he justified to himself the worst actions, + by pleading that he did them with the best intentions. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. + </h2> + <p> + By this time Lady Mary Vivian began to hear hints of her son’s attachment + to Mrs. Wharton; and, much alarmed, she repented having encouraged him to + form a political or fashionable intimacy with the Whartons. Suddenly + awakened to the perception of the danger, Lady Mary was too vehement in + her terror. She spoke with so much warmth and indignation, that there was + little chance of her counsels being of use. + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear madam, it is only a platonic attachment,” argued Vivian, + when his mother represented to him that the world talked loudly of his + intimacy with Mrs. Wharton. + </p> + <p> + “A platonic attachment!—Fashionable, dangerous sophistry!” said Lady + Mary. + </p> + <p> + “Why so, ma’am?” said her son, warmly; “and why should we mind what the + world says? The world is so fond of scandal, that a man and woman cannot + have any degree of friendship for one another without a hue and cry being + immediately raised—and all the prudes and coquettes join at once in + believing, or pretending to believe, that there must be something wrong. + No wonder such a pretty woman as Mrs. Wharton cannot escape envy, and, of + course, censure; but her conduct can defy the utmost malice of her + enemies.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope so,” said Lady Mary; “and, at all events, I am not one of them. I + know and care very little about Mrs. Wharton, whom I have always been + accustomed to consider as a frivolous, silly woman; but what I wish to + say, though I fear I have lost your confidence, and that my advice will + not—” + </p> + <p> + “Frivolous! silly!” interrupted Vivian; “believe me, my dear mother, you + and half the world are, and have been, under a great mistake about her + understanding and character.” + </p> + <p> + “Her forming a platonic friendship with a young man is no great proof of + her sense or of her virtue,” said Lady Mary. “The danger of platonic + attachments, I thought, had been sufficiently understood. Pray, my dear + Charles, never let me hear more from you of platonics with married women.” + </p> + <p> + “I won’t use the expression, ma’am, if you have any objection to it,” said + Vivian; “but, mother, you wish me to live in the most fashionable company, + and yet you desire me not to live as they live, and talk as they talk: + now, that is next to impossible. Pardon me, but I should not have + thought,” added he, laughing, “that you, who like most things that are + fashionable, would object to <i>platonics</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “Object to them!—I despise, detest, abhor them! <i>Platonics</i> + have been the ruin of more women, the destruction of the peace of more + families, than open profligacy ever could have accomplished. Many a + married woman, who would have started with horror at the idea of beginning + an intrigue, has been drawn in to admit of a platonic attachment. And many + a man, who would as soon have thought of committing murder as of seducing + his friend’s wife, has allowed himself to commence a platonic attachment; + and how these end, all the world knows.” + </p> + <p> + Struck by these words, Vivian suddenly quitted his air of raillery, and + became serious. Had his mother stopped there, and left the rest to his + good sense and awakened perception of danger, all would have been well; + but she was ever prone to say too much; and, in her ardour to prove + herself to be in the right, forgot that people are apt to be shocked, by + having it pointed out that they are utterly in the wrong. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, the very word platonics,” pursued she, “is considered, by those + who have seen any thing of life, as the mere watchword of knaves or dupes; + of those who deceive, or of those who wish to be deceived.” + </p> + <p> + “Be assured, ma’am,” said Vivian, “that Mrs. Wharton is not one of those + who wish either to deceive or to be deceived; and, as to myself, I hope I + am as far from any danger of being a dupe as of being a knave. My + connexion with Mrs. Wharton is perfectly innocent; it is justified by the + example of hundreds and thousands every day in the fashionable world; and + I should do her and myself great injustice, if I broke off our intimacy + suddenly, as if I acknowledged that it was improper.” + </p> + <p> + “And what can be more improper? since you force me to speak plainly,” + cried Lady Mary; “what can be more improper than such an intimacy, + especially in your circumstances?” + </p> + <p> + “My circumstances! What circumstances, ma’am?” + </p> + <p> + “Have you forgotten Miss Sidney?” + </p> + <p> + “By no means, ma’am,” said Vivian, colouring deeply; “Mrs. Wharton is well + apprized, and was, from the first moment of our friendship, clearly + informed of my——engagements with Miss Sidney.” + </p> + <p> + “And how do they agree with your attachment to Mrs. Wharton?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly well, ma’am—Mrs. Wharton understands all that perfectly + well, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “And Miss Sidney! do you think she will understand it?—and is it not + extraordinary that I should think more of her feelings than you do?” + </p> + <p> + At these questions Vivian became so angry, that he was incapable of + listening farther to reason, or to the best advice, even from a mother, + for whom he had the highest respect. The mother and son parted with + feelings of mutual dissatisfaction. + </p> + <p> + Vivian, from that spirit of opposition so often seen in weak characters, + went immediately from his mother’s <i>lecture</i> to a party at Mrs. + Wharton’s. Lady Mary, in the mean time, sat down to write to Miss Sidney. + Whatever reluctance she had originally felt to her son’s marriage with + this young lady, it must be repeated, to her ladyship’s credit, that + Selina’s honourable and disinterested conduct had won her entire + approbation. She wrote, therefore, in the strongest terms to press the + immediate conclusion of that match, which she now considered as the only + chance of securing her son’s morals and happiness. Her letter concluded + with these words:—“I shall expect you in town directly. Do not, my + dear, let any idle scruples prevent you from coming to my house. Consider + that my happiness, your own, and my son’s, depend upon your compliance. I + am persuaded, that the moment he sees you, the moment you exert your power + over him, he will be himself again. But, believe me, I know the young men + of the present day better than you do: their constancy is not proof + against absence. If he lose the habit of seeing and conversing with you, I + cannot answer for the rest.—Adieu! I am so much harassed by my own + thoughts, and by the reports I hear, that I scarcely know what I write. + Pray come immediately, my dear Selina, that I may talk to you of many + subjects on which I don’t like to trust myself to write. My feelings have + been too long repressed.—I must unburden my heart to you. <i>You</i> + only can console and assist me; and, independently of all other + considerations, you owe to my friendship for you, Selina, not to refuse + this first request I ever made you.—Farewell! I shall expect to see + you as soon as possible. + </p> + <p> + “Yours, &c. + </p> + <p> + “MARY VIVIAN.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>St. James’s-street</i>.” + </p> + <p> + In this letter, Lady Mary Vivian had not explained the nature of her son’s + danger, or of her fears for him. Motives of delicacy had prevented her + from explicitly telling Miss Sidney her suspicions that Vivian was + attached to a married woman. “Selina,” said her ladyship to herself, + “must, probably, have heard the report from Mr. G——, who is so + often at her mother’s; therefore, there can be no necessity for my saying + any more than I have done. She will understand my hints.” + </p> + <p> + Unfortunately, however, Miss Sidney did not comprehend, or in the least + suspect, the most material part of the truth; she understood simply, from + Lady Mary’s letter, that Vivian’s affections wavered, and she imagined + that he was, perhaps, on the point of making matrimonial proposals for + some fashionable belle, probably for one of the Lady Lidhursts; but the + idea of his becoming attached to a married woman never entered her + thoughts. Many motives conspired to incline Selina to accept of the + invitation. The certainty that Lady Mary would be highly offended by a + refusal; the hint, that her influence over Vivian would operate + immediately, and in all its force, if he were to see and converse with + her; and that, on the contrary, absence might extinguish his passion for + ever; curiosity to learn precisely the nature of the reports, which his + mother had heard to his disadvantage; but, above all, a fond wish to be + nearer to the man she loved, and to have daily opportunities of seeing + him, prompted Selina to comply with Lady Mary’s request. On the contrary, + good sense and delicacy represented, that she had released Vivian from all + promises, all engagements; that, at parting, she had professed to leave + him perfectly at liberty: that it would, therefore, be as indelicate as + imprudent to make such an attempt to reclaim his inconstant heart. She had + told him, that she desired to have proof of the steadiness, both of his + character and of his attachment, before she could consent to marry him. + From this decision she could not, she would not, recede. She had the + fortitude to persist in this resolution. She wrote to Lady Mary Vivian in + the kindest, but, at the same time, in the most decided terms, declining + the tempting invitation. + </p> + <p> + It happened that Vivian was with his mother at the moment when Selina’s + answer arrived. In the firm belief that such a pressing invitation as she + had sent, to a person in Selina’s circumstances and of Selina’s temper, + could not be refused, her ladyship had made it a point with her son to + dine <i>tête-à-tête</i> with her this day; and she had been talking to + him, in the most eloquent but imprudent manner, of the contrast between + the characters of Mrs. Wharton and Miss Sidney. He protested that his + esteem and love for Miss Sidney were unabated; yet, when his mother told + him that he would, perhaps, in a few minutes see his Selina, he changed + colour, grew embarrassed and melancholy, and thus by his looks effectually + contradicted his words. He was roused from his reverie by the arrival of + Selina’s letter. His mother’s disappointment and anger were expressed in + the strongest terms, when she found that Selina declined her invitation; + but such are the quick and seemingly perverse turns of the human heart, + Vivian grew warm in Selina’s defence the moment that his mother became + angry with her: he read her letter with tender emotion, for he saw through + the whole of it, the strength, as well as the delicacy of her attachment. + All that his mother’s praises had failed to effect, was immediately + accomplished by this letter; and he, who but an instant before dreaded to + meet Selina, now that she refused to come, was seized with a strong desire + to see her; his impatience was so great, that he would willingly have set + out that instant for the country. Men of such characters as Vivian’s are + peculiarly jealous of their free will; and, precisely because they know + that they are easily led, they resist, in affairs of the heart especially, + the slightest appearance of control. + </p> + <p> + Lady Mary was delighted to hear her son declare his resolution to leave + town the next morning, and to see Miss Sidney as soon as possible; but she + could not forbear reproaching him for not doing what she wanted precisely + in the manner in which she had planned that it should be done. + </p> + <p> + “I see, my dear Charles,” cried she, “that even when you do right, I must + not flatter myself that it is owing to any influence of mine. Give my + compliments to Miss Sidney, and assure her that I shall in future forbear + to injure her in your opinion by my interference, or even by expressing my + approbation of her character. My anger, it is obvious, has served her + better than my kindness; and therefore she has no reason to regret that my + affection has been lessened, as I confess it has been, by her late + conduct.” + </p> + <p> + The next morning, when Vivian was prepared to leave town, he called upon + Wharton, to settle with him about some political, business which was to be + transacted in his absence. Wharton was not at home—Vivian knew that + it would be best to avoid seeing Mrs. Wharton; but he was afraid that she + would be offended, and he could not help <i>sacrificing a few minutes to + politeness</i>. The lady was alone; apparently very languid, and + charmingly melancholy. Before Vivian could explain himself, she poured + forth, in silly phrases, but in a voice that made even nonsense please, a + rariety of reproaches for his having absented himself for such a length of + time.—“Positively, she would keep him prisoner, now that she had him + safe once more.” To be kept prisoner by a fair lady was so flattering, + that it was full an hour before he could prevail upon himself to assert + his liberty—the fear of giving pain, indeed, influenced him still + more than vanity. At last, when Mrs. Wharton spoke of her engagements for + the evening, and seemed to take it for granted that he would be of her + party, he summoned resolution sufficient—Oh! wonderful effort of + courage!—to tell her, that he was under a necessity of leaving town + immediately. + </p> + <p> + “Going, I presume, to—” + </p> + <p> + “To the country,” said Vivian, firmly. + </p> + <p> + “To the country!——No, no, no; say at once, to Selina!—Tell + me the worst in one word!” + </p> + <p> + Astonished beyond measure, Vivian had not power to move. The lady fell + back on the sofa in violent hysterics. Our hero trembled lest any of her + servants should come in, or lest her husband should at his return find her + in this condition, and discover the cause. He endeavoured in vain to + soothe and compose the weeping fair one; he could not have the barbarity + to leave her in this state. By sweet degrees she recovered her + recollection—was in the most lovely confusion—asked where she + was, and what was going to happen. Vivian had not the rashness to run the + risk of a second fit of hysterics; he gave up all thoughts of his journey + for this day, and the lady recovered her spirits in the most flattering + manner. Vivian intended to postpone his journey only for a single day; + but, after he had yielded one point, he found that there was no receding. + He was now persuaded that Mrs. Wharton was miserable; that she would never + forgive herself for having betrayed the state of her heart. His self-love + pleaded powerfully in her favour: he considered that her husband treated + her with mortifying neglect, and provoked the spirit of retaliation by his + gallantries. Vivian fancied that Mrs. Wharton’s attachment to him might + render her wretched, but would never make her criminal. With sophistical + delicacy he veiled his own motives; and, instead of following the plain + dictates of reason, he involved his understanding in that species of + sentimental casuistry which confounds all principles of right and wrong. + But the dread that he felt lest Wharton should discover what was going on + might have sufficiently convinced him that he was not acting honourably. + The suspicions which Mr. Wharton formerly showed of his wife seemed now to + be completely lulled asleep; and he gave Vivian continually such proofs of + confidence as stung him to the soul. By an absurd, but not an uncommon + error of self-love, Vivian was induced to believe, that a man who + professed to cheat mankind in general behaved towards him in particular + with strict honour, and even with unparalleled generosity. Honesty was too + vulgar a virtue for Wharton; but honour, the aristocratic, exclusive + virtue of a gentleman, he laid claim to in the highest tone. The very + frankness with which Wharton avowed his libertine principles with respect + to women, convinced Vivian that he had not the slightest suspicion that + these could be immediately applied to the ruin of his own wife. + </p> + <p> + “How can you, my dear Wharton, talk in this manner?” said Vivian once, + when he had been speaking with great <i>freedom</i>. + </p> + <p> + “But it is better,” added he, with a sigh, “to speak than to act like a + villain.” + </p> + <p> + “Villain!” repeated Wharton, with a sarcastic laugh; “you are grown quite + ridiculous, Vivian: I protest, I don’t understand you. Women now-a-days + are surely able, if not willing enough, to take care of themselves; and <i>villains</i>, + though they were very common in the time of Miss Clarissa Harlowe, and of + all the tragedy queens of the last century, are not to be heard of in + these days. Any strange tales of those male monsters called seducers could + gain credit during the ages of ignorance and credulity; but now, the + enlightened world cannot be imposed upon by such miracles; and a gentleman + may be a man of gallantry—nay, even a lady may be a woman of + gallantry—without being hooted out of society as a <i>monster</i>; + at all events, the blame is, as it should be, equally divided between the + parties concerned; and if modern lovers quarrel, they do not die of grief, + but settle their differences in a court of law, where a spinster may have + her compensation for a breach of contract of marriage; a father or a + husband their damages for the loss of the company, affection, solace, + services, &c., as the case may be, of his wife or daughter. All this + is perfectly well understood; and the terrors of law are quite sufficient, + without the terrors of sentiment. If a man punish himself, or let himself + be punished, twice for the same offence, once by his conscience, and once + by his king and his country, he is a fool; and, moreover, acts contrary to + the spirit of the British law, which sayeth—see Blackstone and + others—that no man shall be punished twice for the same offence.—Suffer + your risible muscles to relax, I beseech you, Vivian; and do not affect a + presbyterian rigidity, which becomes your face as ill as your age.” + </p> + <p> + “I affect nothing—certainly I do not affect presbyterian rigidity,” + cried Vivian, laughing. “But, after all, Wharton, if you had a daughter or + a sister, what would you think of any man, your friend for instance, who + should attempt—” + </p> + <p> + “To cut your speech short at once,” interrupted Wharton, “I should not + think at all about the matter; I should blow his brains out, of course; + and afterwards, probably, blow out my own. But treachery from a friend—from + a man of honour—is a thing of which I can hardly form an idea. Where + I give my confidence, I give it without any paltry mental reservation—I + could not suspect a friend.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian suffered, at this instant, all the agony which a generous mind, + conscious of guilt, could endure. He thought that the confusion of his + mind must be visible in his countenance—his embarrassment was so + great that he could not utter a word. Wharton did not seem to perceive his + companion’s agitation, but passed on carelessly to other subjects of + conversation; and at length completely relieved Vivian from fear of + immediate detection, by asking a favour from him—a pecuniary favour. + </p> + <p> + “All is safe—Mrs. Wharton, at least, is safe, thank Heaven!” thought + Vivian. “Had her husband the slightest suspicion, he never would + condescend to accept of any favour from me.” + </p> + <p> + With eagerness, and almost with tears of gratitude, Vivian pressed upon + Wharton the money which he <i>condescended</i> to borrow—it was no + inconsiderable sum. + </p> + <p> + “Wharton!” cried he, “you sometimes talk freely—too freely; but you + are, I am convinced, the most open-hearted, unsuspicious, generous fellow + upon earth—you deserve a better friend than I am.” + </p> + <p> + Unable any longer to suppress or conceal the emotions which struggled in + his heart, he broke away abruptly, hurried home, shut himself up in his + own apartment, and sat down immediately to write to Mrs. Wharton. The idea + that Mrs. Wharton loved him in preference to all the fashionable coxcombs + and wits by whom she was surrounded had insensibly raised our hero’s + opinion of her understanding so much, that he now imagined that the world + laboured under a prejudice against her abilities. He gave himself credit + for having discovered that this beauty was not a fool; and he now spoke + and wrote to her as if she had been a woman of sense. With eloquence which + might have moved a woman of genius, with delicacy that might have touched + a woman of feeling, he conjured her to fortify his honourable resolutions; + and thus, whilst it was yet time, to secure her happiness and his own. + “Instead of writing this letter,” added he in a postscript, “I ought, + perhaps, to fly from you for ever; but that would show a want of + confidence in you and in myself; and, besides, upon the most mature + reflection, I think it best to stay, and wait upon you to-morrow as usual, + lest, by my precipitation, I should excite suspicion in Wharton’s mind.” + </p> + <p> + The weak apprehension that Mrs. Wharton should betray herself by another + fit of hysterics, if he should leave town, and if his departure should be + suddenly announced to her by her husband, or by some common acquaintance, + induced him to delay a few days longer, that he might prepare her mind by + degrees, and convince her of the necessity for their absolute separation. + When he had finished his letter to Mrs. Wharton, he was sufficiently well + pleased with himself to venture to write to Miss Sidney. His letters to + her had of late been short and constrained; but this was written with the + full flow of affection. He was now in hopes that he should extricate + himself honourably from his difficulties, and that he might at last claim + his reward from Selina. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. + </h2> + <p> + After he had despatched his two letters, he became excessively anxious to + receive Mrs. Wharton’s answer. By trifling but unavoidable accidents, it + was delayed a few hours. At last it arrived; Vivian tore it open, and read + with surprise these words: + </p> + <p> + “Your letter is just what I wished, and makes me the happiest of women—that + is, if you are sincere—which, after all you’ve said, I can’t doubt. + I am so hurried by visitors, and annoyed, that I cannot write more; but + shall have time to talk to-night at the opera.” + </p> + <p> + At the opera Mrs. Wharton appeared in high spirits, and was dressed with + more than usual elegance. It was observed that she had never been seen to + look so beautiful. There was something in her manner that puzzled Vivian + extremely; this extraordinary gaiety was not what he had reason to expect. + “Is it possible,” thought he, “that this woman is a mere coquette, who has + been amusing herself at my expense all this time, and can now break off + all connexion with me without a moment’s regret?” Vivian’s pride was + piqued: though he wished to part from the lady, he could not bear that + this parting should evidently cost her nothing. He was mortified beyond + expression by the idea that he had been duped. After the opera was over, + whilst Mrs. Wharton was waiting for her carriage, he had an opportunity of + speaking to her without being overheard. + </p> + <p> + “I am happy,” said he, with a constrained voice, “I am extremely happy to + see you, madam, in such charming spirits to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “But are not you a strange man to look so grave?” cried Mrs. Wharton. “I + vow, I don’t know what to make of you! But I believe you want to quarrel + for the pleasure of making it up again. Now that won’t do. By-the-bye, I + have a quarrel with you, sir.—How came you to sign your name to that + foolish stuff you wrote me yesterday? Never do so any more, I charge you, + for fear of accidents. But what’s the matter now?—You are a strange + mortal!—Are you going to die upon the spot?—What is the + matter?” + </p> + <p> + “My letter to you was not signed, I believe,” said Vivian, in an altered + voice. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed it was,” said Mrs. Wharton. “It was signed Charles Vivian at full + length. But why are you in such tremors about it? I only mentioned it to + put you on your guard in future.—I’ve burnt the letter—people + always get themselves into scrapes if they don’t burn love-letters—as + I’ve often heard Mr. Wharton say,” added she, laughing. + </p> + <p> + To his unspeakable consternation, Vivian now discovered that he had sent + the letter intended for Selina to Mrs. Wharton; and that which was + designed for Mrs. Wharton he had directed to Miss Sidney. Vivian was so + lost in thought, that the cry of <i>“Mrs. Wharton’s carriage stops the + way!”</i> was vociferated many times before he recovered sufficient + presence of mind to hand the lady out of the house. He went home + immediately, that he might reflect upon what was best to be done. His + servant presently gave him a letter which a messenger had just brought + from the country. The packet was from Selina. + </p> + <p> + “Enclosed, I return the letter which I received from you this morning. I + read the first three lines of it before I perceived that it could not be + intended for me—I went no farther.—I cannot help knowing for + whom it was designed; but you may be assured that your secret shall be + kept inviolably.—You have no reproaches to fear from me.—This + is the last letter I shall ever write to you.—Leave it to me to + explain my own conduct to my mother and to yours; if they think me + capricious, I can bear it. I shall tell them that my sentiments are + totally changed: I am sure I can say so with perfect truth.—Oh, + Vivian, it is you who are to be pitied; every thing may be endured except + remorse. Would to Heaven, I could save you from the reproaches of your own + heart!—Adieu! + </p> + <p> + “SELINA SIDNEY.” + </p> + <p> + The feelings of Vivian’s mind, on reading this letter, cannot be + described. Admiration, love, tenderness, remorse, successively seized upon + his heart. Incapable of any distinct reflection, he threw himself upon his + bed, and closed his eyes, endeavouring to compose himself to sleep, that + he might forget his existence. But, motionless as he lay, the tumult of + his mind continued unabated. His pulse beat high; and before morning he + was in a fever. The dread that his mother should come to attend him, and + to inquire into the cause of his illness, increased his agitation:—she + came. Her kindness and anxiety were fresh torments to her unhappy son. + Bitterly did he reproach himself as the cause of misery to those he loved + and esteemed most in the world. He became delirious; and, whilst he was in + this state, he repeated Mrs. Wharton’s name sometimes in terms of + endearment, sometimes in accents of execration. His mother’s suspicions of + his intrigue were confirmed by many expressions which burst from him, and + which were thought by his attendants to be merely the ravings of fever. + Lady Mary had, at this crisis, the prudence to conceal her doubts, and to + keep every body, as much as possible, out of her son’s apartment. In a few + days his fever subsided, and he recovered to the clear recollection of all + that had passed previously to his illness. He almost wished to be again + delirious. The first time he was left alone, he rose from his bed, + unlocked his bureau, and seized Selina’s letter, which he read again and + again, studying each line and word, as if he could draw from them every + time a new meaning. + </p> + <p> + “She read but three lines of my letter,” said he to himself; “then she + only guesses that I have an intrigue with Mrs. Wharton, without knowing + that in this very letter I used my utmost influence to recall Mrs. Wharton + to—herself.” + </p> + <p> + The belief that Selina thought worse of him than he deserved was some + consolation to Vivian. He was resolved to recover her esteem: he + determined to break off all connexion with Mrs. Wharton; and, full of this + intention, he was impatient till the physicians permitted him to go + abroad. When he was at last free from their dominion, had escaped from his + chamber, and had just gained the staircase, he was stopped by his mother. + </p> + <p> + “Charles,” said she, “before you quit me again, it is my duty to say a few + words to you upon a subject of some importance.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Mary led the way to her dressing-room with a dignified air; Vivian + followed with a mixture of pride and alarm in his manner. From the bare + idea of a maternal lecture his mind revolted: he imagined that she was + going to repeat the remonstrance which she had formerly made against his + intimacy with Mrs. Wharton, and against <i>platonics</i> in general; but + he had not the least apprehension that she had discovered the whole truth: + he was, therefore, both surprised and shocked, when she spoke to him in + the following manner: + </p> + <p> + “The libertinism of the age in which we live has so far loosened all the + bonds of society, and all the ties of nature, that I doubt not but a + mother’s anxiety for the morals of her son—her only son—the + son over whose education she has watched from his infancy, may appear, + even in his eyes, a fit subject for ridicule. I am well aware that my + solicitude and my counsels have long been irksome to him, I have lost his + affections by a steady adherence to my duty; but I shall persevere with + the less reluctance, since the dread of my displeasure, or the hope of my + approbation, cannot now touch his sensibility. During your illness, you + have betrayed a secret—you have reason to start with horror. Is it + possible that a son of mine, with the principles which I have endeavoured + to instil into his mind, should become so far depraved? Do I live to hear, + from his own lips, that he is the seducer of a married woman—and + that woman the wife of his friend?” + </p> + <p> + Vivian walked up and down the room in great agony: his mother continued, + with increased severity of manner, “I say nothing of your dissimulation + with me, nor of all your <i>platonic</i> subterfuges—I know that, + with a man of intrigue, falsehood is deemed a virtue. I shall not + condescend to inquire farther into your guilty secrets—I now think + myself fortunate in having no place in your confidence. But I here declare + to you, in the most solemn manner, that I never will see you again until + all connexion between you and Mrs. Wharton is utterly dissolved. I do not + advise—I COMMAND, and must be obeyed—or I cast you off for + ever.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Mary left the room as she uttered these words. Her son was deeply + struck with his mother’s eloquence: he knew she was right, yet his pride + was wounded by the peremptory severity of her manner:—his remorse + and his good resolutions gave place to anger. The more he felt himself in + the wrong, the less he could bear to be reproached by the voice of + authority. Even because his mother <i>commanded</i> him to give up all + connexion with Mrs. Wharton, he was inclined to disobey—he could not + bear to seem to do right merely in compliance to her will. He went to + visit Mrs. Wharton in a very different temper from that in which, half an + hour before this conference with his mother, he had resolved to see the + lady. Mrs. Wharton knew how to take advantage both of the weakness of his + character and of the generosity of his temper. She fell into transports of + grief when she found that Lady Mary Vivian and Miss Sidney were in + possession of her secret. It was in vain that Vivian assured her that it + would be kept inviolably; she persisted in repeating, “that her reputation + was lost; that she had sacrificed every thing for a man who would, at + last, desert her in the most treacherous and barbarous manner, leaving her + at the mercy of her husband, the most profligate, hard-hearted tyrant upon + earth. As to her being reconciled to him,” she declared, “<i>that</i> was + totally out of the question; his behaviour to her was such, that she could + not live with him, even if her heart were not fatally prepossessed in + favour of another.” Her passions seemed wrought to the highest pitch. With + all the eloquence of beauty in distress, she appealed to Vivian as her + only friend; she threw herself entirely upon his protection; she vowed + that she could not, would not, remain another day in the same house with + Mr. Wharton; that her destiny, her existence, were at Vivian’s mercy. + Vivian had not sufficient fortitude to support this scene. He stood + irresolute. The present temptation prevailed over his better resolutions. + He was actually persuaded by this woman, whom he did not love, whom he + could not esteem, to carry her off to the continent—whilst, at the + very time, he admired, esteemed, and loved another. The plan of the + elopement was formed and settled in a few minutes;—on Mrs. Wharton’s + part, apparently with all the hurry of passion; on Vivian’s with all the + confusion of despair. The same carriage, the very same horses, that had + been ordered to carry our hero to his beloved Selina, conveyed him and + Mrs. Wharton the first stage of their flight towards the continent. The + next morning the following paragraph appeared in the newspapers:— + </p> + <p> + “Yesterday, the beautiful and fashionable Mrs. W——, whose + marriage we announced last year to the celebrated Mr. W——, + eloped from his house in St. James’s-street, in company with C—— + V——, member for ——shire. This catastrophe has + caused the greatest <i>sensation</i> and astonishment in the circles of + fashion; for the lady in question had always, till this fatal step, + preserved the most unblemished reputation; and Mr. and Mrs. W—— + were considered as models of conjugal felicity. The injured husband was + attending his public duty in the House of Commons; and, as we are credibly + informed, was, with patriotic ardour, speaking in his country’s cause, + when this unfortunate event, which for ever bereaves him of domestic + happiness, took place. What must increase the poignancy of his feelings + upon the occasion remains to be stated—that the seducer was his + intimate friend, a young man, whom he had raised into notice in public + life, and whom he had, with all that warmth and confidence of heart for + which he is remarkable, introduced into his house, and trusted with his + beloved wife. Mr. W—— is, we hear, in pursuit of the + fugitives.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. + </h2> + <p> + In the modern fashionable code of honour, when a man has seduced or + carried off his friend’s wife, the next thing he has to do is to fight the + man whom he has injured and betrayed. By thus appealing to the ordeal of + the duel, he may not only clear himself from guilt; but, if it be done + with proper spirit, he may acquire celebrity and glory in the annals of + gallantry, and in the eyes of the fair and innocent. In our hero’s place, + most men of fashion would have triumphed in the notoriety of his offence, + and would have rejoiced in an opportunity of offering the husband the + satisfaction of a gentleman. But, unfortunately for Vivian, he had not yet + suited his principles to his practice: he had acted like a man of fashion; + but, alas! he still thought and felt like a man of virtue—as the + following letter will show. + </p> + <p> + “TO THE REV. HENRY RUSSELL. + </p> + <p> + “Indignant as you will be, Russell, at all you hear of me, you cannot be + more shocked than I am myself. I do not write to palliate or apologize—my + conduct admits of no defence—I shall attempt none, private or public—I + have written to my lawyer to give directions that no sort of defence shall + be set up on my part, when the affair comes into Doctors’ Commons—as + it shortly will; for I understand that poor Wharton has commenced a + prosecution. As to damages he has only to name them—any thing within + the compass of my fortune he may command. Would to God that money could + make him amends! But he is too generous, too noble a fellow—profligate + as he is in some things, how incapable would he be of acting as basely as + I have done! There is not, perhaps, at this moment, a human being who has + so high an opinion of the man I have injured as I have myself:—he + did not love his wife—but that is no excuse for me—his honour + is as much wounded as if I had robbed him of her during the time he loved + her most fondly:—he once doted upon her, and would have loved her + again, when he was tired of his gallantries; and they might then have + lived together as happily as ever, if I had not been—. What was I?—What + am I?—Not a villain—or I should glory in what I have done—but + the weakest of human beings—and how true it is, Russell, that ‘all + wickedness is weakness!’ + </p> + <p> + “I understand that W——, wherever he goes, calls me a coward, + as well as a scoundrel; and says that I have kept out of the way to avoid + fighting him. He is mistaken. It is true, I had the utmost dread of having + his life to answer for—and nothing should have provoked me to fire + upon him;—but I had determined how to act—I would have met + him, and have stood his fire. I should not be sorry, at present, to be put + out of the world; and would rather fall by his hand than by any other. But + since this is out of the question, and that things have taken another + turn, I have only to live, as long as it shall please God, a life of + remorse—and, at least, to try to make the unfortunate woman who has + thrown herself upon my protection as happy as I can. + </p> + <p> + “If you have any remaining regard for a pupil who has so disgraced you, do + me one favour—Go to Miss Sidney, and give her what comfort you can. + Say nothing <i>for me</i>, or <i>of me</i>, but that I wish her to forget + me as soon as possible. She discarded me from her heart when she first + discovered this intrigue—before this last fatal step. Still I had + hopes of recovering her esteem and affection; for I had resolved—But + no matter what I resolved—all my resolutions failed; and now I am + utterly unworthy of her love. This, and all that is good and happy in + life, all the fair hopes and virtuous promises of my youth, I must give + up. Early as it is in my day, my sun has set. I truly desire that she + should forget me; for you know I am bound in honour—Honour! How dare + I use the word? I am bound, after the divorce, to marry the woman I have + seduced. Oh, Russell! what a wife for your friend!—What a + daughter-in-law for my poor mother, after all her care of my education—all + her affection—all her pride in me!—It will break her heart! + Mine will not break. I shall drag on, perhaps, to a miserable old age. I + am of too feeble a nature to feel these things as strong minds would—as + you will for me; but do not blame yourself for my faults. All that man + could do for me, you did. This must be some consolation to you, my dear + and excellent friend! May I still call you friend?—or have I no + friend left upon earth? + </p> + <p> + “C. VIVIAN.” + </p> + <p> + From this letter some idea may be formed of what this unhappy man suffered + at this period of his life, from “the reflections of a mind not used to + its own reproaches.” The view of the future was as dreadful as the + retrospect of the past. His thoughts continually dwelt upon the public + trial which was preparing—before him he saw all its disgraceful + circumstances. Then the horror of marrying, of passing his whole future + existence with a woman whom he could not esteem or trust! These last were + secret subjects of anxiety and anguish, the more intensely felt, because + he could not speak of them to any human being. Such as Mrs. Wharton was, + she was to be his wife; and he was called upon to defend her against + reproach and insult,—if possible, from contempt. During the course + of six weeks, which they spent together in exile at Brussels, Vivian + became so altered in his appearance, that his most intimate friends could + scarcely have known him; his worst enemies, if he had had any, could not + have desired the prolongation of his sufferings. + </p> + <p> + One evening, as he was sitting alone in his hotel, ruminating bitter + thoughts, a letter was brought to him from Mr. Russell; the first he had + received since he left England. Every one, who has been absent from his + friends in a foreign country, must know the sort of emotion which the bare + sight of a letter from <i>home</i> excites; but, in Vivian’s + circumstances, abandoned as he felt himself, and deserving to be abandoned + by his best friends, the sight of a letter from Russell so struck him, + that he gazed upon the direction for some minutes, almost without power or + wish to open it. At last he opened, and read, “Return to your country, + your friends, and yourself, Vivian! Your day is not yet over! Your sun is + not yet set!—Resume your energy—recover your self-confidence—carry + your good resolutions into effect—and you may yet be an honour to + your family, a delight to your fond mother, and the pride of your friend + Russell. Your remorse has been poignant and sincere; let it be salutary + and permanent in its consequences: this is the repentance which religion + requires. The part of a man of sense and virtue is to make his past errors + of use to his future conduct. Whilst I had nothing to say that could give + you pleasure, I forbore to answer your letter; I forbore to overwhelm a + mind sinking under remorse. My sacred duty is to waken the sinner to + repentance, not to shut the gates of mercy on the penitent. Now, I can + relieve your mind from part of the load by which it has been justly + oppressed. You know that nothing can palliate your conduct in an intrigue + with a married woman—from this I had hoped your moral and religious + education would have preserved you. But of the premeditated guilt of + deceiving the husband, and laying a plan to seduce the wife, I never + suspected you; and I may now tell you, that you have not betrayed Mr. + Wharton; he has betrayed you. You have not seduced Mrs. Wharton; you have + been seduced by her. You are not bound to marry her—Wharton cannot + obtain a divorce—he dare not bring the affair to trial; if he does, + he is undone. There has been collusion between the parties. The proof of + this you will find in the enclosed paper, which will be sworn to, in due + legal form, whenever it is necessary. Even when you see them, you will + scarcely believe these ‘damning proofs’ of Wharton’s baseness. But I + always knew, I always told you, that this pretence to honour and candour, + frankness and friendship, with this avowed contempt of all principle and + all virtue, could not be safe, could not be sincere, would not <i>stand + the test</i>.—No—nothing should make me trust to the private + honour of a man so corrupt in public life as Mr. Wharton. A man who sells + his conscience for his interest will sell it for his pleasure. A man who + will betray his country will betray his friend. It is in vain to palter + with our conscience: there are not two honours—two honesties. How I + rejoice at this moment, in the reflection that your character, as a public + man, is yet untarnished You have still this great advantage:—feel + its value. Return, and distinguish yourself among your countrymen: + distinguish yourself by integrity still more than by talents. A certain + degree of talents is now cheap in England: integrity is what we want—true + patriotism, true public spirit, noble ambition not that vile scramble for + places and pensions, which some men call ambition; not that bawling, + brawling, <i>Thersites</i> character, which other men call public spirit; + not that marketable commodity with which Wharton, and such as he, cheat + popular opinion for a season;—but that fair virtue which will + endure, and abide by its cause to the last; which, in place or out, shall + be the same; which, successful or unsuccessful, shall sustain the + possessor’s character through all changes of party; which, whilst he + lives, shall command respect from even the most profligate of his + contemporaries; upon which, when he is dying, he may reflect with + satisfaction; which, after his death, shall be the consolation of his + friends, and the glory of his country. All this is yet in your power, + Vivian.—Come, then, and fulfil the promise of your early years! + Come, and restore to your mother a son worthy of her!—Come, and + surpass the hopes of your true friend, + </p> + <p> + “H. RUSSELL.” + </p> + <p> + The rapid succession of feelings with which Vivian read this letter can + scarcely be imagined. The paper it enclosed was from a former waiting-maid + of Mrs. Wharton’s; a woman who was expected to be the principal evidence + on Mr. Wharton’s side. She had been his mistress; one of those innumerable + mistresses, to whom he had, of course, addressed his transferable promises + of eternal constancy. She too, of course, had believed the vow, in spite + of all experience and probability; and while she pardoned his infidelities + to her mistress, &c. all which she deemed <i>very natural for a + gentleman like him</i>, yet she was astonished and outrageous when she + found him faithless to her own charms. In a fit of jealousy she flew to + Mr. Russell, whom she knew to be Vivian’s friend; and, to revenge herself + on Wharton, revealed the secrets which she had in her power; put into + Russell’s hands the proofs of collusion between Mr. Wharton and his wife; + and took malicious pains to substantiate her evidence, to a lawyer’s full + satisfaction; knowing that she might prevent the possibility of a divorce, + and that she should thus punish her perjured inconstant in the most + sensible manner, by at once depriving him of twenty thousand pounds + damages, and by chaining him again to a wife whom he abhorred. + </p> + <p> + The same post which brought Vivian this woman’s deposition and Russell’s + letter brought Mrs. Wharton notice that the whole plan of collusion was + discovered: she was therefore prepared for Vivian’s reproaches, and + received the first burst of his astonishment and indignation with a + studied Magdalen expression of countenance: then she attempted a silly + apology, laying all the blame on her husband, and vowing that she had + acted under terror, and that her life would not have been safe in his + hands if she had not implicitly obeyed and executed his horrid plans. She + wept and kneeled in vain. Finding Vivian immoveable in his purpose to + return immediately to England, she suddenly rose from her knees, and, all + beautiful as she was, looked in Vivian’s eyes like a fiend, whilst, with + an unnatural smile, she said to him, “You see, fool as I am thought to be, + I have been too clever for <i>some people</i>; and I can tell Mr. Wharton + that I have been too clever for him too. His heart is set upon a divorce; + but he can’t have it. He can’t marry Miss P——, nor yet her + fortune, nor ever shall! I shall remain at Brussels—I have friends + here—and friends who were my friends before I was forced to give my + hand to Mr. Wharton, or my smiles to you, sir!—people who will not + tease me with talking of remorse and repentance, and such ungallant, + ungentlemanlike stuff; nor sit bewailing themselves, like a country + parson, instead of dashing out with me here in a fashionable style, as a + man of any spirit would have done. But you!—you’re neither good nor + bad; and no woman will ever love you, nor ever did. Now you know my whole + mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Would to Heaven I had known it sooner!” said Vivian. “No—I rejoice + that I did not sooner know, and that I never could have suspected, such + depravity!—under such a form, too.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wharton’s eye glanced with satisfaction upon the large mirror + opposite to her. Vivian left her in utter disgust and horror. “Drive on!” + cried he, as he threw himself into the chaise that was to carry him away; + “Faster! faster!” + </p> + <p> + The words, “and no woman will ever love you, nor ever, did,” rung upon + Vivian’s ear. “There she is mistaken, thank Heaven!” said he to himself: + yet the words still dwelt upon his mind, and gave him exquisite pain. Upon + looking again at Russell’s letter, he observed that Selina Sidney’s name + was never mentioned; that she was neither directly nor indirectly alluded + to in the whole letter. What omen to draw from this he could not divine. + Again he read it; and all that Russell said of public life, and his + exhortations to him to come and distinguish himself in public and in the + political world, struck him in a new light. It seemed as if Russell was + sensible that, there were no farther hopes of Selina, and that therefore + he tried to turn Vivian’s mind from love to ambition. Fourteen times he + read over this letter before he reached England; but he could not discover + from it any thing as to the point on which his heart was most interested. + He reached London in this, uncertainty. + </p> + <p> + “Put me out of suspense, my best friend,” cried he, the moment he saw + Russell: “tell me, is Selina living?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—she has been very ill, but is now recovered—quite + recovered, and with your mother, who is grown fonder of her than ever she + was.” + </p> + <p> + “Selina alive! well! and with my mother!—and may I—I don’t + mean may I <i>now</i>,—but may I <i>ever</i> hope?—Believe me, + I feel myself capable of any exertions, any forbearance, to obtain her + forgiveness—to merit—May I ever hope for it?—Speak!” + </p> + <p> + Russell assured him that he need not dread Miss Sidney’s resentment, for + that she felt none; she had expressed pity more than anger—that she + had taken pains to sooth his mother; and had expressed sincere + satisfaction on hearing of his <i>release</i> from his unworthy bondage, + and at his return home to his friends. + </p> + <p> + The tone in which Russell spoke, and the seriousness and embarrassment of + his manner, alarmed Vivian inexpressibly. He stood silent, and dared not + ask farther explanation for some minutes.—At length he broke + silence, and conjured his friend to go immediately to Miss Sidney and his + mother, and to request permission for him to see them both in each other’s + presence. Russell said, that if Vivian insisted, he would comply with his + request; but that he advised him not to attempt to see Miss Sidney at + present; not till he had been some time in London—till he had given + some earnest of the steadiness of his conduct—till he had appeared + again, and distinguished himself in public life. “This might raise you + again in her esteem; and,” continued Russell, “you must be aware that her + love depends on her esteem—at least, that the one cannot exist + without the other.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you deliver a letter to her from me?” said Vivian. “If you think I + had better not attempt to see her yet, you will deliver a letter for me?” + </p> + <p> + After some hesitation, or rather some deliberation, Russell answered, in a + constrained voice, “I will deliver your letter, if you insist upon it.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian wrote:—Russell undertook to deliver the letter, though with + evident reluctance. In the mean time Vivian went to see his mother, whom + he longed, yet dreaded to meet. Her manner was not now severe and haughty, + as when she last addressed him; but mild and benign: she held out her hand + to him, and said, “Thank God! my son is restored to me, and to himself!” + </p> + <p> + She could say no more; but embraced him tenderly. Russell had shown Lady + Mary that her son had been the dupe of a preconcerted scheme to work upon + his passions. She deplored his weakness, but she had been touched by his + sufferings; and was persuaded that his remorse would guard him against + future errors. Therefore not a word or look of reproach escaped from her. + When he spoke of Selina, Lady Mary, with great animation of countenance + and warmth of eulogium, declared, that it was the first wish of her heart + to see her son married to a woman of such a noble character and angelic + temper; “<i>but</i>,” added her ladyship, her manner changing suddenly, as + she pronounced the word <i>but</i>—before she could explain the <i>but</i>, + Russell came into the room, and told Vivian that Miss Sidney desired to + see him. Vivian heard the words with joy; but his joy was checked by the + great gravity and embarrassment of his friend’s countenance, and by a sigh + of ill omen from his mother. Eager to relieve his suspense, he hastened to + Selina, who, as Russell told him, was in Lady Mary’s dressing-room—the + room in which he had first declared his passion for her. Hope and fear + alternately seized him—fear prevailed the moment that he beheld + Selina. Not that any strong displeasure appeared in her countenance—no, + it was mild and placid; but it was changed towards him, and its very + serenity was alarming. Whilst she welcomed him to his native country and + to his friends, and while she expressed hopes for his future happiness, + all hope forsook him, and, in broken sentences, he attempted to stammer + out some answer; then, throwing himself into a chair, he exclaimed, “I see + all future happiness is lost for me—and I deserve it!” + </p> + <p> + “Do not reproach yourself,” said Selina in a sweet voice; but the voice, + though sweet, was so altered to him, that it threw him into despair. “It + is my wish, not to inflict, but to spare you pain. I have, therefore, + desired to see you as soon as possible, that you might not form false + expectations.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you no longer love me, Selina? Now, after all I have suffered, you + have the cruelty to tell me so? And you, who could form my character to + every thing that is good and honourable; you, who alone could restore me + to myself—you reject, you cast me from you for ever?” + </p> + <p> + “I have suffered much,” said Selina, in a trembling voice, “since we + parted.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian’s eye quickly ran over her face and whole form as she spoke these + words; and he saw, indeed, traces of sickness and suffering: with the idea + of his power over her affections, his hopes revived; he seized the feeble + hand, which lay motionless; but she withdrew it decidedly, and his hopes + again forsook him, when she gently raised her head, and continued to + speak, “I have suffered much since we parted, Mr. Vivian; and I hope you + will spare me unnecessary and useless pain in this interview: painful to a + certain degree it must be to both of us; for I cannot, even now that all + feelings of passion have subsided, and that the possibility of my being + united to you is past, tell you so, with all the composure which I had + expected to do; nor with all the firmness of voice and manner which is + necessary, perhaps, to convince you of the truth, and to restore your mind + to itself.” + </p> + <p> + “The possibility of my being united to you is past!—Why?” + interrupted Vivian, incapable of understanding or listening to any thing + else, till this question was answered. + </p> + <p> + “Do not force me to what may seem like cruel reproach; but let it suffice + for me to say, that my sentiments have been so much altered by a <i>year’s + experience</i>, that it is impossible for me ever to become your wife. My + love was founded on esteem. I had, indeed, always fears of the instability + of your character; therefore, I put your resolution to the proof: the + event has proved to me that my fears were but too just. I speak with + difficulty; for I cannot easily give you so much pain as I know that I am + inflicting at this moment. But,” resumed she, in a more resolute tone, “it + is absolutely necessary for your future peace of mind, as well as for my + own, that I should convince you I am sincere, perfectly sincere, at this + moment; that I know my own heart; that my determination has not been + hastily formed, and cannot be altered. The deliberate manner in which I + now speak to you will, I hope, persuade you of this truth. And if I have + hesitated, or showed any agitation in this interview, attribute it to its + real cause—the weakness of my health; feebleness of body, not of + mind.” + </p> + <p> + She rose to leave the room; but Vivian detained her, beseeching her, with + all the eloquence of passion in despair, to hear him but for one moment; + whilst he urged that there was no probability of his ever relapsing into + errors from which he had suffered so much; that now his character was + formed by adversity; and that such was the power which Selina possessed + over his heart, that a union with her would, at this crisis, decide his + fate; that her steadiness would give stability to his resolutions; and + that his gratitude would so increase his affection, that he should have + the strongest possible motives to make her a good husband; that when he + was happy in domestic life, he should feel every energy of his mind + revive; that he should exert all his powers to distinguish himself, and to + justify the choice of the woman he adored. + </p> + <p> + In spite of the word <i>adored</i>, which has usually such power to + confound female judgment, Selina perceived that all he said was merely a + repetition of his former arguments, of which experience had proved the + insufficiency. She was aware that, if before marriage his resolution and + constancy had not been able to support the trial, it would be folly or + madness to marry him with the vague hope that she might reform his + character. She therefore continued steady to her resolution; and as she + found that Vivian’s disappointment was greater than she had expected, she + immediately withdrew from his mother’s house. The next morning, when + Vivian came to breakfast, after having spent a sleepless night, planning + new arguments or new intreaties in favour of his love, he found that Miss + Sidney was gone. His mother and his friend Russell joined in representing + to him that it would be useless to follow her, that it would only give + himself and Selina unavailing pain. Vivian felt this stroke severely. His + mind was, as it were, adrift again. After the first violence of his + feelings had spent itself, and when he sunk into that kind of apathy which + is the consequence of exhausted passion, his friend Russell endeavoured to + excite him to honourable ambition. Vivian caught the idea, that if he + distinguished himself in public life, and if he there displayed any + steadiness of character, he might win back Selina’s esteem and affection. + Fired with this hope, he immediately turned his whole mind to the object; + applied with indefatigable ardour, day and night, to make himself master + of the subjects likely to be discussed in the ensuing session of + parliament. At length his application and his energy were crowned with + success. On a question of considerable political importance, which he had + carefully considered, he made an excellent speech; a speech which directly + made him of consequence in the house; which, in the language of the + newspapers, “was received with unbounded applause, was distinguished for + strength of argument, lucid order, and a happy choice of expression.” But + what encouraged our hero more than newspaper puffs or party panegyrics was + the approbation of his friend Russell. Russell never praised violently; + but a few words, or even a look of satisfaction from him, went farther + than the most exaggerated eulogiums from others. Vivian pursued his course + for some time with honour and increasing reputation. There was one man who + never joined in any of the compliments paid to the rising orator; there + was one man who always spoke of him with contempt, who pronounced that + “Vivian would never go far in politics—that it was not in him—that + he was too soft—<i>que c’étoit bâtir sur de la boue, que de compter + sur lui</i>.” This depreciator and enemy of Vivian was the man who, but a + few months before, had been his political <i>proneur</i> and unblushing + flatterer, Mr. Wharton. Exasperated by the consciousness of his own + detected baseness, and provoked still more by his being frustrated in all + his schemes, Wharton now practised every art that a malicious and + unprincipled wit could devise to lower the opinion of Vivian’s talents, + and to prevent his obtaining either power or celebrity. Our hero was + stimulated by this conduct to fresh exertions. So far Wharton’s enmity was + of service to him; but it was of disservice, by changing, in some measure, + the purity of the motives from which he acted. With love and honourable + ambition now mixed hatred, thoughts of vengeance, views of vulgar vanity + and interest: he thought more of contradicting Mr. Wharton’s prophecies + than of fulfilling his own ideas of what was fair and right. He was + anxious to prove, that he could “<i>go far</i> in politics, that it was <i>in + him</i>, that he was not too soft, and that it was not building on mud to + depend on him.” These indefinite expressions operated powerfully and + perniciously on his imagination. To prove that Wharton was mistaken in his + prognostics, it was necessary to our hero to obtain the price and stamp of + talents—it was essential to gain political power; and this could not + be attained without joining a party. Vivian joined the party then in + opposition. Wharton and he, though both in opposition, of course, after + what had passed, could never meet in any private company; nor had they any + communication in public, though on the same side of the question: their + enmity was so great, that not only the business of the nation, but even + the interests of their party, were often impeded by their quarrels. In the + midst of these disputes, Vivian insensibly adopted more and more of the + language and principles of the public men with whom he daily associated. + He began to hear and talk of compensations and jobs, as they did; and to + consider all measures proved to be necessary for the support of his party + as expedient, if not absolutely right. His country could not be saved, + unless he and his friends could obtain the management of affairs; and no + men, be found, could gain parliamentary influence, or raise themselves + into political power, without <i>acting as a body</i>. Then, of course, + all subordinate points of right were to be sacrificed to the great good of + promoting the views of the party. Still, however, his patriotism was upon + the whole pure; he had no personal views of interest, no desire even to be + in place, independently of a wish to promote the good of his country. + Secret overtures were, about this time, made to him by government; and + inquiries were made if there was any thing which could gratify him, or by + which he could be induced to lay aside his opposition, and to assist in + supporting their measures. Many compliments to his talents and eloquence, + and all the usual <i>commonplaces</i>, about the expediency and propriety + of <i>strengthening the hands of government</i>, were, of course, added. + Something <i>specific</i> was at length mentioned: it was intimated, that + as he was of an ancient family, it might gratify him that his mother + should be made a baroness in her own right. The offer was declined, and + the temptation was firmly withstood by our hero; his credit was now at its + <i>acme</i> with his own coadjutors. Lady Mary whispered the circumstance, + as a state secret, to all her acquaintance; and Russell took care that + Miss Sidney should hear of it. + </p> + <p> + Vivian was now cited as an incorruptible patriot. Wharton’s malice, and + even his wit, was almost silenced; yet he was heard to say, amidst the din + of applause, “This is only the first offer; he is in the right to make a + show of resistance: he will coquet for a time, and keep <i>philandering</i> + on till he suits himself, and then he’ll jilt us, you’ll see.” + </p> + <p> + Such speeches, though they reached Vivian’s ear by the kind officiousness + of friends, were never made by Mr. Wharton so directly that he could take + hold of them; and Russell strenuously advised him not to seek occasion to + quarrel with a man who evidently desired only to raise his own reputation + by making Vivian angry, getting him in the wrong, and forcing him into an + imprudent duel. + </p> + <p> + “Let your actions continue to contradict his words, and they can never + injure you,” said Russell. + </p> + <p> + For some time Vivian adhered to his friend’s advice, and he proudly felt + the superiority of principle and character. But, alas! there was one + defence that his patriotism wanted—economy. Whilst he was thus + active in the public cause, and exulting in his disinterestedness, his + private affairs were getting into terrible disorder. The expense of + building his castle had increased beyond all his calculations—the + expense of his election—the money he had lost at play whilst he was + in Wharton’s society—the sums he had lent to Wharton—the money + he had spent abroad,—all these accumulated brought him to great + difficulties: for though his estate was considerable, yet it was so + settled and tied up that he could neither sell nor mortgage. His creditors + became clamorous—he had no means of satisfying or quieting them: an + execution was actually sent down to his castle, just as it was finished. + Lady Mary Vivian was in the greatest alarm and distress: she had no means + of extricating her son. As to his fashionable friends—no hopes from + such extravagant and selfish beings. What was to be done? At this critical + moment, the offers from <i>a certain quarter</i> were renewed in another, + and, as it seemed, a more acceptable form,—a pension was proffered + instead of a title; and it was promised that the business should be so + managed, and the pension so held in another name, that nothing of the + transaction should transpire; and that his seceding from opposition should + be made to appear a change of sentiments from conviction, not from + interested motives. Vivian’s honourable feelings revolted from these + offers, and abhorred these subterfuges; but distress—pecuniary + distress! he had never before felt its pressure; he had never till now + felt how powerful, how compulsatory it is over even generous and + high-spirited souls. Whilst Vivian was thus oppressed with difficulties, + which his imprudence had brought upon him; whilst his mind was struggling + with opposing motives, he was, most fortunately for his political + integrity, relieved, partly by accident, and partly by friendship. It + happened that the incumbent of the rich living, of which Vivian had the + presentation, was dying just at this time; and Russell, instead of + claiming the living which Vivian had promised to him, relinquished all + pretensions to it, and insisted upon his friend’s disposing of his right + of presentation. The sum which this enabled Vivian to raise was fully + sufficient to satisfy the execution which had been laid on his castle; and + the less clamorous creditors were content to be paid by instalments, + annually, from his income. Thus he was saved for the present; and he + formed the most prudent resolves for the future. He was most sincerely + grateful to his disinterested friend. The full extent of the sacrifice + which Russell made him was not, however, known at this time, nor for some + years afterwards. + </p> + <p> + But, without anticipation, let us proceed with our story. Amongst those + fashionable and political friends with whom our hero had, since his return + to England, renewed his connexion, was my Lord Glistonbury. His lordship, + far from thinking the worse of him for <i>his affair</i> with Mrs. + Wharton, spoke of it in modish <i>slang</i>, as “a new and fine feather in + his cap;” and he congratulated Vivian upon his having “carried off the + prize without paying the price.” Vivian’s success as a parliamentary + orator had still further endeared him to his lordship, who failed not to + repeat, that he had always prophesied Vivian would make a capital figure + in public life; that Vivian was his member, &c. At the recess, Lord + Glistonbury insisted upon carrying Vivian down to spend the holidays with + him at Glistonbury Castle. + </p> + <p> + “You must come, Vivian: so make your fellow put your worldly goods into my + barouche, which is at the door; and we are to have a great party at + Glistonbury, and private theatricals, and the devil knows what; and you + must see my little Julia act, and I must introduce you to <i>the Rosamunda</i>. + Come, come! you can’t refuse me!—Why, you have only a bachelor’s + castle of your own to go to; and that’s a dismal sort of business, + compared with what I have <i>in petto</i> for you—‘the feast of + reason, and the flow of soul,’ in the first style, I assure you. You must + know, I always—even in the midst of the wildest of my wild oats—had + a taste for the belles-lettres, and philosophy, and the muses, and the <i>literati,</i> + and so forth—always a touch of the Mecaenas about me.—And now + my boy’s growing up, it’s more particularly proper to bring these sort of + people about him; for, you know, clever men who have a reputation can + sound a flourish of trumpets advantageously before ‘a Grecian youth of + talents rare’ makes his appearance on the stage of the great world—Ha! + hey!—Is not this what one may call prudence?—Ha!—Good to + have a father who knows something of life, and of books too, hey? Then, + for my daughters, too—daughter, I mean; for Lady Sarah’s Lady + Glistonbury’s child: her ladyship and Miss Strictland have manufactured + her after their own taste and fashion; and I’ve nothing to say to that—But + my little Julia—Ah, I’ve got a different sort of governess about her + these few months past—not without family battles, you may guess. But + when Jupiter gives the nod, you know, even Juno, stately as she is, must + bend. So I have my Rosamunda for my little Julia—who, by-the-bye, is + no longer my <i>little</i> Julia, but a prodigious fine woman, as you + shall see. But, all this time, is your fellow putting your things up? No!—Hey? + how? Oh, I understand your long face of hesitation—you have not seen + the ladies since the Wharton affair, and you don’t know how they might + look.—Never fear! Lady Glistonbury shall do as I please, and look as + I please. Besides, <i>entre nous</i>, I know she hates the Whartons; so + that her morality will have a loophole to creep out of; and you’ll be safe + and snug, whilst all the blame will be thrown on them—Hey!—Oh, + I understand things—pique myself on investigating the human heart. + Come, we have not a moment to lose; and you’ll have your friend Russell, + too—Come, come! to have and to hold, as the lawyers say—” + </p> + <p> + Seizing Vivian’s arm, Lord Glistonbury carried him off before he had half + understood all his lordship had poured forth so rapidly; and before he had + decided whether he wished or not to accept of this invitation. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. + </h2> + <p> + On his way to Glistonbury Castle, Vivian had full leisure to repent of + having accepted of this invitation, recollecting, as he did, all the + former reports about himself and Lady Sarah Lidhurst. He determined, + therefore, that his visit should be as short as possible; and the chief + pleasure he promised himself was the society of his friend Russell. + </p> + <p> + On his arrival at the castle, he was told that Mr. Russell was out riding; + and that every body else was in the theatre at a rehearsal, except Lady + Glistonbury, the Lady Sarah, and Miss Strictland. He found these three + ladies sitting in form in the great deserted drawing-room, each looking + like a copy of the other, and all as if they were deploring the degeneracy + of the times. Vivian approached with due awe; but, to his great surprise + and relief, at his approach their countenances exhibited some signs of + life. Lord Glistonbury <i>presented</i> him on his return from abroad: + Lady Glistonbury’s features relaxed to a smile, though she seemed + immediately to repent of it, and to feel it incumbent upon her to maintain + her rigidity of mien. Whilst she, and of course Miss Strictland and the + Lady Sarah, were thus embarrassed between the necessity of reprobating the + sin, and the desire of pleasing the sinner, Lord Glistonbury ran on with + one of his speeches, of borrowed sense and original nonsense, and then + would have carried him off to the rehearsal, but Lady Glistonbury called + Vivian back, begging, in her formal manner, “that her lord would do her + the favour to leave Mr. Vivian with her for a few minutes, as it was so + long since she had the pleasure of seeing him at Glistonbury.” Vivian + returned with as good a grace as he could; and, to find means of breaking + the embarrassing silence that ensued, took up a book which lay upon the + table, “Toplady’s Sermons”—no hope of assistance from that: he had + recourse to another—equally unlucky, “Wesley’s Diary:” another—“The + Pilgrim’s Progress.” He went no farther; but, looking up, he perceived + that the Lady Sarah was <i>motioned</i> by her august mother to leave the + room. Vivian had again recourse to “Toplady.” + </p> + <p> + “Very unfashionable books, Mr. Vivian,” said Miss Strictland, bridling and + smiling as in scorn. + </p> + <p> + “Very unfashionable books!” repeated Lady Glistonbury, with the same + inflection of voice, and the same bridling and smiling. “Very different,” + continued her ladyship, “very different from what you have been accustomed + to see on <i>some</i> ladies’ tables, no doubt, Mr. Vivian! Without + mentioning names, or alluding to transactions that ought to be buried in + eternal oblivion, and that are so very distressing to your friends here to + think of, sir, give me leave to ask, Mr. Vivian, whether it be true what I + have heard, that the prosecution, and every thing relative to it, is + entirely given up?” + </p> + <p> + “Entirely, madam.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said Lady Glistonbury, glancing her eye at Miss Strictland, “<i>we</i> + may welcome Mr. Vivian with safe consciences to Glistonbury; and since the + affair will never become public, and since Lady Sarah knows none of the + improper particulars; and since she may, and, from her education, + naturally will, class all such things under the head of impossibilities + and false reports, of which people, in our rank of life especially, are + subject every hour to hear so many; there cannot, as I am persuaded you + will agree with me in thinking, Miss Strictland, be any impropriety in our + and Lady Sarah’s receiving Mr. Vivian again on the same footing as + formerly.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Strictland bowed her formal assent: Vivian bowed, because he saw that + a bow was expected from him; and then he pondered on what might be meant + by the words, <i>on the same footing as formerly</i>; and he had just + framed a clause explanatory and restrictive of the same, when he was + interrupted by the sound of laughter, and of numerous, loud, and mingled + voices, coming along the gallery that led to the drawing-room. As if these + were signals for her departure, and as if she dreaded the intrusion and + contamination of the revel rout, Lady Glistonbury arose, looked at her + watch, pronounced her belief that it was full time for her to go to dress, + and retired through a Venetian door, followed by Miss Strictland, + repeating the same belief, and bearing her ladyship’s tapestry work: her + steps quickened as the door at the opposite end of the room opened; and, + curtsying (an unnecessary apology to Mr. Vivian) as she passed, she left + him <i>to himself</i>. And now, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “He sees a train profusely gay, + Come pranckling o’er the place.” + </pre> + <p> + Some were dressed for comic, some for tragic characters; but all seemed + equally gay, and talked equally fast. There had been a dressed rehearsal + of “The Fair Penitent,” and of “The Romp;” and all the spectators and all + the actors were giving and receiving exuberant compliments. Vivian knew + many of the party,—some of them bel-esprits, some fashionable + amateurs; all pretenders to notoriety, either as judges or performers. In + the midst of this motley group, there was one figure who stood receiving + and expecting universal homage: she was dressed as “The Fair Penitent;” + but her affected vivacity of gesture and countenance was in striking + contrast to her tragic attire; and Vivian could hardly forbear smiling at + the <i>minauderies</i> with which she listened and talked to the gentlemen + round her; now languishing, now coquetting; rolling her eyes, and throwing + herself into a succession of studied attitudes, dealing repartees to this + side and to that; and, in short, making the greatest possible exhibition + both of her person and her mind. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you know her? Did you never see her before?—No! you’ve been + out of England; but you’ve heard of her, certainly?—<i>Rosamunda</i>,”—whispered + Lord Glistonbury to Vivian. + </p> + <p> + “And who is Rosamunda?” said Vivian; “an actress.” + </p> + <p> + “Actress!—Hush!—Bless you! no—but the famous poetess. Is + it possible that you hav’n’t read the poems of Rosamunda?—They were + in every body’s hands a few months ago; but you were abroad—better + engaged, or as well, hey? But, as I was going to tell you, that’s the + reason she’s called <i>The Rosamunda</i>—I gave her the name, for I + patronized her from the first. Her real name is Bateman; and Lady + Glistonbury and her set call her Miss Bateman still, but nobody else. + She’s an amazing clever woman, I assure you—more genius than any of + ‘em since the time of Rousseau!—Devil of a salary!—and devil + of a battle I had to fight with some of my friends before I could fix her + here; but I was determined I would follow my own ideas in Julia’s + education. Lady Glistonbury had her way and her routine with Lady Sarah; + and it’s all very well, vastly well— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Virtue for her too painful an endeavour, + Content to dwell in decencies for ever.’ +</pre> + <p> + You know the sort of thing! Yes, yes; but I was not content to have my + Julia lost among the <i>mediocres</i>, as I call them: so I took her out + of Miss Strictland’s hands; and the Rosamunda’s her governess.” + </p> + <p> + “Her governess!” repeated Vivian, with uncontrollable astonishment; “Lady + Julia Lidhurst’s governess!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you may well be surprised,” pursued Lord Glistonbury, mistaking the + cause of the surprise: “no one in England could have done it but myself; + she refused innumerable applications,—immense offers; and, after + all, you know, she does not appear as governess <i>titrée</i>—only + as a friend of the family, who directs Lady Julia Lidhurst’s literary + talents. Oh, you understand, a man of the world knows how to manage these + things—sacrifices always to the vanity of the sex, or the pride, as + the case may be, I never mind names, but things, as the metaphysicians say—distinguish + betwixt essentials and accidents—sound philosophy that, hey? And, + thank Heaven! a gentleman or a nobleman need not apologize in these days + for talking of philosophy before ladies, even if any body overheard us, + which, as it happens, I believe nobody does. So let me, now that <i>you + know your Paris</i>, introduce you to ‘The Rosamunda.’—Mr. Vivian—the + Rosamunda. Rosamunda—Mr. Vivian.” + </p> + <p> + After Vivian had for a few minutes acted audience, very little to his own + satisfaction, he was relieved by Lord Glistonbury’s exclaiming, “But + Julia! where’s Julia all this time?” + </p> + <p> + Rosamunda looked round, with the air of one interrupted by a frivolous + question which requires no answer; but some one less exalted, and more + attentive to the common forms of civility, told his lordship that Lady + Julia was in the gallery with her brother. Lord Glistonbury hurried Vivian + into the gallery. He was struck the moment he met Lady Julia with the + great change and improvement in her appearance. Instead of the childish + girl he had formerly seen flying about, full only of the frolic of the + present moment, he now saw a fine graceful woman with a striking + countenance that indicated both genius and sensibility. She was talking to + her brother with so much eagerness, that she did not see Vivian come into + the gallery; and, as he walked on towards the farther end, where she was + standing, he had time to admire her. + </p> + <p> + “A fine girl, faith! though she is my daughter,” whispered Lord + Glistonbury; “and would you believe that she is only sixteen?” + </p> + <p> + “Only sixteen!” + </p> + <p> + “Ay: and stay till you talk to her—stay till you hear her—you + will be more surprised. Such genius! such eloquence! She’s my own girl. + Well, Julia, my darling!” cried he, raising his voice, “in the clouds, as + usual?” + </p> + <p> + Lady Julia started—but it was a natural, not a theatric start—colouring + at the consciousness of her own absence of mind. She came forward with a + manner that apologized better than words could do, and she received Mr. + Vivian so courteously, and with such ingenuous pleasure in her + countenance, that he began to rejoice in having accepted the invitation to + Glistonbury; at the same instant, he recollected a look which his mother + had given him when he first saw Lady Julia on the terrace of the castle. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what was she saying to you, Lidhurst? hey! my boy?” + </p> + <p> + “We were arguing, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Arguing! Ay, ay, she’s the devil for that!—words at will!—‘Persuasive + words, and more persuasive sighs!’ Ah, woman! woman for ever! always + talking us out of our senses! and which of the best of us would not wish + it to be so? ‘Oh! let me, let me be deceived!’ is the cream of philosophy, + epicurean and stoic—at least, that’s my creed. But to the point: + what was it about that she was holding forth so charmingly—a book or + a lover? A book, I’ll wager: she’s such a romantic little fool, and so + unlike other women: leaves all her admirers there in the drawing-room, and + stays out here, talking over musty books with her brother. But come, what + was the point? I will have it argued again before me—Let’s see the + book.” + </p> + <p> + Lord Lidhurst pointed out a speech in “The Fair Penitent,” and said that + they had been debating about the manner in which it should be recited. + Lord Glistonbury called upon his daughter to repeat it: she showed a + slight degree of unaffected timidity at first; but when her father stamped + and bid her let him see no vulgar bashfulness, she obeyed—recited + charmingly—and, when urged by a little opposition from her brother, + grew warm in defence of her own opinion—displayed in its support + such sensibility, with such a flow of eloquence, accompanied with such + animated and graceful, yet natural gesture, that Vivian was transported + with sudden admiration. He was astonished at this early development of + feeling and intellect; and if, in the midst of his delight, he felt some + latent disapprobation of this display of talent from so young a woman, yet + he quickly justified her to himself, by saying that he was not a stranger; + that he had formerly been received by her family on a footing of intimacy. + Then he observed farther, in her vindication, that there was not the + slightest affectation or coquetry in any of her words or motions; that she + spoke with this eagerness not to gain admiration, but because she was + carried away by her enthusiasm, and, thoughtless of herself, was eager + only to persuade and to make her opinions prevail. Such was the + enchantment of her eloquence and her beauty, that after a quarter of an + hour spent in her company, our hero did not know whether to wish that she + had more sedateness and reserve, or to rejoice that she was so animated + and natural. Before he could decide this point, his friend Russell + returned from riding. After the first greetings were over, Russell drew + him aside, and asked, “Pray, my dear Vivian, what brings you here?” + </p> + <p> + “Lord Glistonbury—to whom I had not time to say no, he talked so + fast. But, after all, why should I say no? I am a free man—a + discarded lover. I am absolutely convinced that Selina Sidney’s refusal + will never be retracted; my mother, I know, is of that opinion. You + suggested, that if I distinguished myself in public life, and showed + steadiness, I might recover her esteem and affection; but I see no chance + of it. My mother showed me her last letter—no hopes from that—so + I think it would be madness, or folly, to waste my time, and wear out my + feelings, in pursuit of a woman, who, however amiable, is lost to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Of that you are the best judge,” said Russell, gravely. “I am far from + wishing—from urging you to waste your time. Lady Mary Vivian must + know more of Miss Sidney, and be better able to judge of the state of her + heart than I can be. It would not be the part of a friend to excite you to + persevere in a pursuit that would end in disappointment; but this much, + before we quit the subject for ever, I feel it my duty to say—that I + think Miss Sidney the woman of all others the best suited to your + character, the most deserving of your love, the most calculated to make + you exquisitely and permanently happy.” + </p> + <p> + “All that’s very true,” said Vivian, impatiently; “but, since I can’t have + her, why make me miserable about her?” + </p> + <p> + “Am I to understand,” resumed Russell, after a long pause, “am I to + understand that, now you have regained your freedom, you come here with + the settled purpose of espousing the Lady Sarah Lidhurst?” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven forfend!” cried Vivian, starting back. + </p> + <p> + “Then I am to go over again, on this subject, with indefatigable patience + and in due logical order, all the arguments, moral, prudential, and + conventional, which I had the labour of laying before you about a + twelvemonth ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Save yourself the trouble, my dear friend!” said Vivian; “I shall set all + that upon a right footing immediately, by speaking of the report at once + to some of the family. I was going to <i>rise to explain</i> this morning, + when I was with Lady Glastonbury; but I felt a sort of delicacy—it + was an awkward time—and at that moment somebody came into the room.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said Russell, “you are just like the hero of a novel, stopped from + saying what he ought to say by somebody’s coming into the room.—Awkward + time! Take care you don’t sacrifice yourself at last to these <i>awkwardnesses</i> + and this sort of <i>delicacies</i>. I have still my fears that you will + get into difficulties about Lady Sarah.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian could not help laughing at what he called his friend’s absurd + fears. + </p> + <p> + “If you are determined, my dear Russell, at all events to fear for me, + I’ll suggest to you a more reasonable cause of dread. Suppose I should + fall desperately in love with Lady Julia!—I assure you there’s some + danger of that. She is really very handsome and very graceful; uncommonly + clever and eloquent—as to the rest, you know her—what is she?” + </p> + <p> + “All that you have said, and more. She might be made any thing—every + thing; an ornament to her sex—an honour to her country—were + she under the guidance of persons fit to direct great powers and a noble + character; but yet I cannot, Vivian, as your friend, recommend her to you + as a wife.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not thinking of her as a wife,” said Vivian: “I have not had time to + think of her at all yet. But you said, just now, that in good hands she + might be made every thing that is good and great. Why not by a husband, + instead of a governess? and would not you call mine <i>good hands</i>?” + </p> + <p> + “Good, but not steady—not at all the husband fit to guide such a + woman. He must be a man not only of superior sense, but of superior + strength of mind.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian was piqued by this remark, and proceeded to compare the fitness of + his character to <i>such</i> a character as Lady Julia’s. Every moment he + showed more curiosity to hear further particulars of her disposition; of + the different characters of her governesses, and of all her relations; but + Russell refused to say more. He had told him what he was called upon, as + his friend, to reveal; he left the rest to Vivian’s own observation and + judgment. Vivian set himself to work to observe and judge with all his + might. + </p> + <p> + He soon perceived that all Russell had told him of the mismanagement of + Lady Julia’s education was true. In this house there were two parties, + each in extremes, and each with their systems and practice carried to the + utmost excess. The partisans of the old and the new school were here to be + seen at daggers-drawing. Lady Glastonbury, abhorrent of what she termed + modern philosophy, and classing under that name almost all science and + literature, especially all attempts to cultivate the understanding of + women, had, with the assistance of her <i>double</i>, Miss Strictland, + brought up Lady Sarah in all the ignorance and all the rigidity of the + most obsolete of the old school; she had made Lady Sarah precisely like + herself; with virtue, stiff, dogmatical, and repulsive; with religion, + gloomy and puritanical; with manners, cold and automatic. In the course of + eighteen years, whilst Lady Glistonbury went on, like clock-work, the same + round, punctual to the letter but unfeeling of the spirit of her duties, + she contrived, even by the wearisome method of her <i>minuted</i> diary of + education, to make her house odious to her husband. Some task, or master, + or hour of lesson, continually, and immitigably plagued him: he went + abroad for amusement, and found dissipation. Thus, by her unaccommodating + temper, and the obstinacy of her manifold virtues, she succeeded in + alienating the affections of her husband. In despair he one day exclaimed, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Ah que de vertus vous me faites haïr;” + </pre> + <p> + and, repelled by virtue in this ungracious form, he flew to more + attractive vice. Finding that he could not have any comfort or solace in + the society of his wife, he sought consolation in the company of a + mistress. Lady Glistonbury had, in the mean time, her consolation in being + a pattern-wife; and in hearing that at card-tables it was universally + said, that Lord Glistonbury was the worst of husbands, and that her + ladyship was extremely to be pitied. In process of time, Lord Glistonbury + was driven to his home again by the united torments of a virago mistress + and the gout. It was at this period that he formed the notion of being at + once a political leader and a Mecaenas; and it was at this period that he + became acquainted with both his daughters, and determined that his Julia + should never resemble the Lady Sarah. He saw his own genius in Julia; and + he resolved, as he said, to give her fair play, and to make her one of the + wonders of the age. After some months’ counteraction and altercation, Lord + Glistonbury, with a high hand, took <i>his</i> daughter from under the + control of Miss Strictland; and, in spite of all the representations, + prophecies, and denunciations of her mother, consigned Julia to the care + of a governess after his own heart—a Miss Bateman; or, as he called + her, <i>The Rosamunda</i>. From the moment this lady was introduced into + the family there was an irreconcileable breach between the husband and + wife. Lady Glistonbury was perfectly in the right in her dread of such a + governess as Miss Bateman for her daughter. Her ladyship was only + partially and accidentally right: right in point of fact, but wrong in the + general principle; for she objected to Miss Bateman, as being of the class + of literary women; to her real faults, her inordinate love of admiration, + and romantic imprudence, Lady Glistonbury did not object, because she did + not at first know them; and when she did, she considered them but as + necessary consequences of the <i>cultivation and enlargement of Miss + Bateman’s understanding</i>. “No wonder!” her ladyship would say; “I knew + it must be so; I knew it could not be otherwise. All those clever women, + as they are called, are the same. This <i>comes</i> of literature and + literary ladies.” + </p> + <p> + Thus moralizing in private with Miss Strictland and her own small party, + Lady Glistonbury appeared silent and passive before her husband and his + adherents. After prophesying how it all must end in the ruin of her + daughter Julia, she declared that she would never speak on this subject + again: she showed herself ready, with maternal resignation, and in silent + obduracy, to witness the completion of the sacrifice of her devoted child. + </p> + <p> + Lord Glistonbury was quite satisfied with having silenced opposition. His + new governess, established in her office, and with full and unlimited + powers, went on triumphant and careless of her charge; she thought of + little but displaying her own talents in company. The castle was + consequently filled with crowds of amateurs; novels and plays were the + order of the day; and a theatre was fitted up, all in open defiance of + poor Lady Glistonbury. The daughter commenced her new course of education + by being taught to laugh at her mother’s prejudices. Such was the state of + affairs when Vivian commenced his observations; and all this secret + history he learnt by scraps, and hints, and inuendoes, from very + particular friends of both parties—friends who were not troubled + with any of Mr. Russell’s scruples or discretion. + </p> + <p> + Vivian’s attention was now fixed upon Lady Julia; he observed with + satisfaction, that, notwithstanding her governess’s example and + excitement, Lady Julia did not show any exorbitant desire for general + admiration; and that her manners were free from coquetry and affectation: + she seemed rather to disdain the flattery, and to avoid both the homage + and the company of men who were her inferiors in mental qualifications; + she addressed her conversation principally to Vivian and his friend + Russell; with them, indeed, she conversed a great deal, with much + eagerness and enthusiasm, expressing all her opinions without disguise, + and showing on most occasions more imagination than reason, and more + feeling than judgment. Vivian perceived that it was soon suspected by many + of their observers, and especially by Lady Glistonbury and the Lady Sarah, + that Julia had a design upon his heart; but he plainly discerned that she + had no design whatever to captivate him; and that though she gave him so + large a share of her company, it was without thinking of him as a lover: + he saw that she conversed with him and Mr. Russell, preferably to others, + because they spoke on subjects which interested her more; and because they + drew out her brother, of whom she was very fond. Her being capable, at so + early an age, to appreciate Russell’s character and talents; her + preferring his solid sense and his plain sincerity to the brilliancy, the + <i>fashion</i>, and even the gallantry of all the men whom her father had + now collected round her, appeared to Vivian the most unequivocal proof of + the superiority of her understanding and of the goodness of her + disposition. On various occasions, he marked with delight the deference + she paid to his friend’s opinion, and the readiness with which she + listened to reason from him—albeit unused and averse from reason in + general. Impatient as she was of control, and confident, both in her own + powers and in her instinctive moral sense (about which, by-the-bye, she + talked a great deal of eloquent nonsense), yet a word or a look from Mr. + Russell would reclaim her in her highest flights. Soon after Vivian + commenced his observations upon this interesting subject, he saw an + instance of what Russell had told him of the ease with which Lady Julia + might be guided by a man of sense and strength of mind. + </p> + <p> + The tragedy of “The Fair Penitent,” Calista by Miss Bateman, was + represented with vast applause to a brilliant audience at the Glistonbury + theatre. The same play was to be reacted a week afterwards to a fresh + audience—it was proposed that Vivian should play Lothario, and that + Lady Julia should play Calista: Miss Bateman saw no objection to this + proposal: Lord Glistonbury might, perhaps, have had the parental prudence + to object to his daughter’s appearing in public at her age, in such a + character, before a mixed audience: but, unfortunately, Lady Glistonbury + bursting from her silence at this critical moment, said so much, and in + such a prosing and puritanical manner, not only against her daughter’s + acting in this play, and in these circumstances, but against all <i>stage + plays</i>, playwrights, actors, and actresses whatsoever, denouncing and + anathematizing them all indiscriminately; that immediately Lord + Glistonbury laughed—Miss Bateman took fire—and it became a + trial of power between the contending parties. Lady Julia, who had but + lately escaped from the irksomeness of her mother’s injudicious and minute + control, dreaded, above all things, to be again subjected to her and Miss + Strictland; therefore, without considering the real propriety or + impropriety of the point in question, without examining whether Miss + Bateman was right or wrong in the licence she had granted, Lady Julia + supported her opinion warmly; and, with all her eloquence, at once + asserted her own liberty, and defended the cause of the theatre in + general. She had heard Mr. Russell once speak of the utility of a + well-regulated public stage; of the influence of good theatric + representations in forming the taste and rousing the soul to virtue: he + had shown her Marmontel’s celebrated letter to Rousseau on this subject; + consequently, she thought she knew what his opinion must be on the present + occasion: therefore she spoke with more than her usual confidence and + enthusiasm. Her eloquence and her abilities transported her father and + most of her auditors, Vivian among the rest, with astonishment and + admiration: she enjoyed, at this moment, what the French call <i>un grand + succès</i>; but, in the midst of the buzz of applause, Vivian observed + that her eye turned anxiously upon Russell, who stood silent, and with a + disapproving countenance. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure your friend, Mr. Russell, is displeased at this instant—and + with me.—I must know why.—Let us ask him.—Do bring him + here.” + </p> + <p> + Immediately she disengaged herself from all her admirers, and, making room + for Mr. Russell beside her, waited, as she said, to hear from him <i>ses + vérités</i>. Russell would have declined speaking, but her ladyship + appealed earnestly and urgently for his opinion, saying, “Who will speak + the truth to me if you will not? On whose judgment can I rely if not on + yours?—You direct my brother’s mind to every thing that is wise and + good; direct mine: I am as desirous to do right as he can be: and you will + find me—self-willed and volatile, as I know you think me—you + will find me a docile pupil. Then tell me frankly—did I, just now, + speak too much or too warmly? I thought I was speaking your sentiments, + and that I <i>must</i> be right. But perhaps it was not right for a woman, + or so young a woman as I am, to support even just opinions so resolutely. + And yet is it a crime to be young?—And is the honour of maintaining + truth to be monopolized by age?—No, surely; for Mr. Russell himself + has not that claim to stand forth, as he so often does, in its defence. If + you think that I ought not to act Calista; if you think that I had better + not appear on the stage at all, only say so!—All I ask is your + opinion; the advantage of your judgment. And you see, Mr. Vivian, how + difficult it is to obtain it!—But his friend, probably, never felt + this difficulty!” + </p> + <p> + With a degree of sober composure, which almost provoked Vivian, Mr. + Russell answered this animated lady. And with a sincerity which, though + politely shown, Vivian thought severe and almost cruel, Russell + acknowledged that her ladyship had anticipated some, but not all of his + objections. He represented that she had failed in becoming respect to her + mother, in thus publicly attacking and opposing her opinions, even + supposing them to be ill-founded; and declared that, as to the case in + discussion, he was entirely of Lady Glistonbury’s opinion, that it would + be unfit and injurious to a young lady to exhibit herself, even on a + private stage, in the character in which it had been proposed that Lady + Julia should appear. + </p> + <p> + Whilst Russell spoke, Vivian was charmed with the manner in which Lady + Julia listened: he thought her countenance enchantingly beautiful, + alternately softened as it was by the expression of genuine humility, and + radiant with candour and gratitude. She made no reply, but immediately + went to her mother; and, in the most engaging manner acknowledged that she + had been wrong, and declared that she was convinced it would be improper + for her to act the character she had proposed. With that cold haughtiness + of mien, the most repulsive to a warm and generous mind, the mother turned + to her daughter, and said that, for her part, she had no faith in sudden + conversions, and starts of good conduct made little impression upon her; + that, as far as she was herself concerned, she forgave, as in charity it + became her, all the undutiful insolence with which she had been treated; + that, as to the rest, she was glad to find, for Lady Julia’s own sake, + that she had given up her strange, and, as she must say, <i>scandalous</i> + intentions. “However,” added Lady Glistonbury, “I am not so sanguine as to + consider this as any thing but a respite from ruin; I am not so credulous + as to believe in sudden reformations; nor, despicable as you and my lord + do me the honour to think my understanding—am I to be made the dupe + of a little deceitful fondling!” + </p> + <p> + Julia withdrew her arms, which she had thrown round her mother; and Miss + Strictland, after breaking her netting silk with a jerk of indignation, + observed, that, for her part, she wondered young ladies should go to + consult their brother’s tutor, instead of more suitable, and, perhaps, as + competent advisers. Lady Julia, now indignant, turned away, and was + withdrawing from before the triumvirate, when Lady Sarah, who had sat + looking, even more stiff and constrained than usual, suddenly broke from + her stony state, and, springing forward, exclaimed, “Stay, Julia!—Stay, + my dear sister!—Oh, Miss Strictland! do my sister justice!—When + Julia is so candid, so eager to do right, intercede for her with my + mother!” + </p> + <p> + “First, may I presume to ask,” said Miss Strictland, drawing herself up + with starch malice; “first, may I presume to ask, whether Mr. Vivian, upon + this occasion, declined to act Lothario?” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Strictland, you do not do my sister justice!” cried Lady Sarah: + “Miss Strictland, you are wrong—very wrong!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Strictland, for a moment struck dumb with astonishment, opening her + eyes as far as they could open, stared at Lady Sarah, and, after a pause, + exclaimed, “Lady Sarah! I protest I never saw any thing that surprised me + so much in my whole life!——Wrong!—very wrong!—I?——My + Lady Glistonbury, I trust your ladyship——” + </p> + <p> + Lady Glistonbury, at this instant, showed, by a little involuntary shake + of her head, that she was inwardly perturbed: Lady Sarah, throwing herself + upon her knees before her mother, exclaimed, “Oh, madam!—mother! + forgive me if I failed in respect to Miss Strictland!——But, my + sister! my sister——!” + </p> + <p> + “Rise, Sarah, rise!” said Lady Glistonbury; “that is not a fit attitude!—And + you are wrong, very wrong, to fail in respect to Miss Strictland, my + second self, Sarah. Lady Julia Lidhurst, it is you who are the cause of + this—the only failure of duty your sister ever was guilty of towards + me in the whole course of her life—I beg of you to withdraw, and + leave me my daughter Sarah.” + </p> + <p> + “At least, I have found a sister, and when I most wanted it,” said Lady + Julia. “I always suspected you loved me, but I never knew how much till + this moment,” added she, turning to embrace her sister; but Lady Sarah had + now resumed her stony appearance, and, standing motionless, received her + sister’s embrace without sign of life or feeling. + </p> + <p> + “Lady Julia Lidhurst,” said Miss Strictland, “you humble yourself in vain: + I think your mother, my Lady Glistonbury, requested of you to leave your + sister, Lady Sarah, to us, and to her duty.” + </p> + <p> + “Duty!” repeated Lady Julia, her eyes flashing indignation: “Is this what + you call <i>duty</i>?—Never will I humble myself before you again—I + <i>will</i> leave you—I do leave you—now and for ever—DUTY!” + </p> + <p> + She withdrew:—and thus was lost one of the fairest occasions of + confirming a young and candid mind in prudent and excellent dispositions. + After humbling herself in vain before a mother, this poor young lady was + now to withstand a father’s reproaches; and, after the inexorable Miss + Strictland, she was to encounter the exasperated Miss Bateman. Whether the + Gorgon terrors of one governess, or the fury passions of the other, were + most formidable, it was difficult to decide. Miss Bateman had written an + epilogue for Lady Julia to recite in the character of Calista; and, with + the combined irritability of authoress and governess, she was enraged at + the idea of her pupil’s declining to repeat these favourite lines. Lord + Glistonbury cared not for the lines; but, considering his own authority to + be impeached by his daughter’s resistance, he treated <i>his Julia</i> as + a traitor to his cause, and a rebel to his party. + </p> + <p> + But Lady Julia was resolute in declining to play Calista; and Vivian + admired the spirit and steadiness of her resistance to the solicitations + and the flattery with which she was assailed by the numerous hangers-on of + the family, and by the amateurs assembled at Glistonbury. Russell, who + knew the warmth of her temper, however, dreaded that she should pass the + bounds of propriety in the contest with her father and her governess; and + he almost repented having given any advice upon the subject. The contest + happily terminated in Lord Glistonbury’s having a violent fit of the gout, + which, as the newspapers informed the public, “ended for the season the + Christmas hospitalities and theatrical festivities at Glistonbury Castle!” + </p> + <p> + Whilst his lordship suffered this fit of torture, his daughter Julia + attended him with so much patience and affection, that he forgave her for + not being willing to be Calista; and, upon his recovery, he announced to + Miss Bateman that it was his will and pleasure that his daughter Julia + should do as she liked on this point, but that he desired it to be + understood that this was no concession to Lady Glistonbury’s prejudices, + but an act of his own pure grace. + </p> + <p> + To celebrate his recovery, his lordship determined to give a ball; and + Miss Bateman persuaded him to make it a <i>fancy ball</i>. In this family, + unfortunately, every occurrence, even every proposal of amusement, became + a subject of dispute and a source of misery. Lady Glistonbury, as soon as + her lord announced his intention of giving this fancy ball, declined + taking the direction of an entertainment which approached, she said, too + near to the nature of a masquerade to meet her ideas of propriety. Lord + Glistonbury laughed, and tried the powers of ridicule and wit: + </p> + <p> + “But on th’impassive ice the lightnings play’d.” + </p> + <p> + The lady’s cool obstinacy was fully a match for her lord’s petulance: to + all he could urge, she repeated, “that such entertainments did not meet + her ideas of propriety.” Her ladyship, Lady Sarah, and Miss Strictland, + consequently declared it to be their resolution, “to appear in their own + proper characters, and their own proper dresses, and no others.” + </p> + <p> + These three rigid seceders excepted, all the world at Glistonbury Castle, + and within its sphere of attraction, were occupied with preparations for + this ball. Miss Bateman was quite in her element, flattered and + flattering, consulting and consulted, in the midst of novels, plays, and + poetry, prints, and pictures, searching for appropriate characters and + dresses. This preceptress seemed to think and to expect that others should + deem her office of governess merely a subordinate part of her business: + she considered her having accepted of the superintendence of the education + of Lady Julia Lidhurst as a prodigious condescension on her part, and a + derogation from her rank and pretensions in the literary and fashionable + world; a peculiar and sentimental favour to Lord Glistonbury, of which his + lordship was bound in honour to show his sense, by treating her as a + member of his family, not only with distinguished politeness, but by <i>deferring</i> + to her opinion in all things, so as to prove to her satisfaction that she + was considered <i>only</i> as a friend, and not at all as a governess. + Thus she was raised as much above that station in the family in which she + could be useful, as governesses in other houses have been sometimes + depressed below their proper rank. Upon this, as upon all occasions, Miss + Bateman was the first person to be thought of—her character and her + dress were the primary points to be determined; and they were points of no + easy decision, she having proposed for herself no less than five + characters—the fair Rosamond, Joan of Arc, Cleopatra, Sigismunda, + and Circe. After minute consideration of the dresses, which, at a fancy + ball, were to constitute these characters, fair Rosamond was rejected, + “because the old English dress muffled up the person too much; Joan of Arc + would find her armour inconvenient for dancing; Cleopatra’s diadem and + royal purple would certainly be truly becoming, but then her regal length + of train was as inadmissible in a dancing-dress as Joan of Arc’s armour.” + Between Sigismunda and Circe, Miss Bateman’s choice long vibrated. The + Spanish and the Grecian costume had each its claims on her favour: for she + was assured they both became her remarkably. Vivian was admitted to the + consultation: he was informed that there must be both a Circe and a + Sigismunda; and that Lady Julia was to take whichever of the two + characters Miss Bateman declined. Pending the deliberation, Lady Julia + whispered to Vivian, “For mercy’s sake! contrive that I may not be doomed + to be Circe; for Circe is no better than Calista.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian was charmed with her ladyship’s delicacy and discretion; he + immediately decided her governess, by pointing out the beautiful + head-dress of Flaxman’s Circe, and observing that Miss Bateman’s hair + (which was a wig) might easily be arranged, so as to produce the same + effect. Lady Julia rewarded Vivian for this able and successful manoeuvre + by one of her sweetest smiles. Her smiles had now powerful influence over + his heart. He rebelled against Russell’s advice, to take more time to + consider how far his character was suited to hers: he was conscious, + indeed, that it would be more prudent to wait a little longer before he + should declare his passion, as Lady Julia was so very young and + enthusiastic, and as her education had been so ill managed; but he argued + that the worse her education, and the more imprudent the people about her, + the greater was her merit in conducting herself with discretion, and in + trying to restrain her natural enthusiasm. Russell acknowledged this, and + gave all due praise to Lady Julia; yet still he represented that Vivian + had been acquainted with her so short time that he could not be a + competent judge of her temper and disposition, even if his judgment were + cool; but it was evident that his passions were now engaged warmly in her + favour. All that Russell urged for delay so far operated, however, upon + Vivian, that he adopted a half measure, and determined to try what chance + he might have of pleasing her before he should either declare his love to + her ladyship, or make his proposal to her father. A favourable opportunity + soon occurred. On the day appointed for the fancy ball, the young Lord + Lidhurst, who was to be Tancred, was taken ill of a feverish complaint: he + was of a very weakly constitution, and his friends were much alarmed by + his frequent indispositions. His physicians ordered quiet; he was confined + to his own apartment; and another Tancred was of course to be sought for: + Vivian ventured to offer to assume the character; and his manner, when he + made this proposal to his fair Sigismunda, though it was intended to be + merely polite and gallant, was so much agitated, that she now, for the + first time, seemed to perceive the state of his heart. Colouring high, her + ladyship answered, with hesitation unusual to her, “that she believed—she + fancied—that is, she understood from her brother—that he had + deputed Mr. Russell to represent Tancred in his place.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian was not displeased by this answer: the change of colour and evident + embarrassment appeared to him favourable omens; and he thought that + whether the embarrassment arose from unwillingness to let any man but her + brother’s tutor, a man domesticated in the family, appear as her Tancred, + or whether she was afraid of offending Mr. Russell, by changing the + arrangement her brother had made; in either case Vivian felt ready, though + a man in love, to approve of her motives. As to the rest, he was certain + that Russell would decline the part assigned him; and, as Vivian expected, + Russell came in a few minutes to resign his pretensions, or rather to + state that though Lord Lidhurst had proposed it, he had never thought of + accepting the honour; and that he should, in all probability, not appear + at the ball, because he was anxious to stay as much as possible with Lord + Lidhurst, whose indisposition increased instead of abating. Lord + Glistonbury, after this explanation, came in high spirits, and with much + satisfaction in his countenance and manner, said he was happy to hear that + his Sigismunda was to have Mr. Vivian for her Tancred. So far all was + prosperous to our hero’s hopes. + </p> + <p> + But when he saw Lady Julia again, which was not till dinner time, he + perceived an unfavourable alteration in her manner; not the timidity or + embarrassment of a girl who is uncertain whether she is or is not pleased, + or whether she should or should not appear to be pleased by the first + approaches of a new lover; but there was in her manner a decided + haughtiness, and an unusual air of displeasure and reserve. Though he sat + beside her, and though in general her delightful conversation had been + addressed either to him or Mr. Russell, they were now both deprived of + this honour; whatever she said, and all she said, was unlike herself, was + directed to persons opposite to her, even to the captain, the lawyer, and + the family parasites, whose existence she commonly seemed to forget. She + ate as well as spoke in a hurried manner, and as if in defiance of her + feelings. Whilst the courses were changing, she turned towards Mr. Vivian, + and after a rapid examining glance at his countenance, she said, in a low + voice—“You must think me, Mr. Vivian, very unreasonable and + whimsical, but I have given up all thoughts of being Sigismunda. Will you + oblige me so far as not to appear in the dress of Tancred to-night? You + will thus spare me all farther difficulty. You know my mother and sister + have declared their determination not to wear any fancy dress; and though + my father is anxious that I should, I believe it may be best that, in this + instance, I follow my own judgment.—May I expect that you will + oblige me?” + </p> + <p> + Vivian declared his entire submission to her ladyship’s judgment: and he + now was delighted to be able to forgive her for all seeming caprice; + because he thought he saw an amiable motive for her conduct—the wish + not to displease her mother, and not to excite the jealousy of her sister. + </p> + <p> + The hour when the ball was to commence arrived; the room filled with + company; and Vivian, who flattered himself with the pleasure of dancing + all night with Lady Julia, as the price of his prompt obedience, looked + round the room in search of his expected partner, but he searched in vain. + He looked to the door at every new entrance—no Lady Julia appeared. + Circe, indeed, was every where to be seen and heard, and an uglier Circe + never touched this earth; but she looked happily confident in the power of + her charms. Whilst she was intent upon fascinating Vivian, he was + impatiently waiting for a moment’s intermission of her volubility, that he + might ask what had become of Lady Julia. + </p> + <p> + “Lady Julia?—She’s somewhere in the room, I suppose.—Oh! no: I + remember, she told me she would go and sit a quarter of an hour with her + brother. She will soon make her appearance, I suppose; but I am so angry + with her for disappointing us all, and you in particular, by changing her + mind about Sigismunda!—Such a capital Tancred as you would have + made! and now you are no character at all! But then, you are only on a par + with certain ladies. Comfort yourself with the great Pope’s (I fear too + true) reflection, that + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Most women have no characters at all.’” + </pre> + <p> + Miss Bateman’s eye glanced insolently, as she spoke, upon Lady + Glistonbury’s trio, who passed by at this instant, all without fancy + dresses. Vivian shocked by this ill-breeding towards the mistress of the + house, offered his arm immediately to Lady Glistonbury, and conducted her + with Lady Sarah and Miss Strictland to their proper places, where, having + seated themselves, each in the same attitude precisely, they looked more + like martyrs prepared for endurance, than like persons in a ball-room. + Vivian stayed to speak a few words to Lady Glistonbury, and was just going + away, when her ladyship, addressing him with more than her usual + formality, said, “Mr. Vivian, I see, has not adopted the fashion of the + day; and as he is the only gentleman present, whose fancy dress does not + proclaim him engaged to some partner equally <i>fanciful</i>, I cannot but + wish that my daughter, Lady Sarah, should, if she dance at all to-night, + dance with a gentleman in his own proper character.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian, thus called upon, felt compelled to ask the honour of Lady Sarah’s + hand; but he flattered himself, that after the first dance he should have + done his duty, and that he should be at liberty by the time Julia should + make her appearance. But, to his great disappointment, Mr. Russell, who + came in just as he had finished the first two dances, informed him that + Lady Julia was determined not to appear at the ball, but to stay with her + brother, who wished for her company. So poor Vivian found himself doomed + to be Lady Sarah’s partner for the remainder of the night. It happened + that, as he was handing her ladyship to supper, in passing through an + antechamber where some of the neighbours of inferior rank had been + permitted to assemble to see <i>the show</i>, he heard one farmer’s wife + say to another, “Who <i>beas</i> that there, that’s handing of Lady + Sarah?”—They were detained a little by the crowd, so that he had + time to hear the whole answer.—“Don’t you know?” was the answer. + “That there gentleman is Mr. Vivian of the new castle, that is to be + married to her directly, and that’s what he’s come here for; for they’ve + been engaged to one another ever since the time o’ the election.” + </p> + <p> + This speech disturbed our hero’s mind considerably; for it awakened a + train of reflections which he had wilfully left dormant. Will it, can it + be believed, that after all his friend Russell’s exhortations, after his + own wise resolutions, he had never yet made any of those explanatory + speeches he had intended? + </p> + <p> + “Positively,” said he to himself, “this report shall not prevail + four-and-twenty hours longer. I will propose for Lady Julia Lidhurst + before I sleep. Russell, to be sure, advises me not to be precipitate—to + take more time to study her disposition; but I am acquainted with her + sufficiently;” (he should have said, I am in love with her sufficiently;) + “and really now, I am bound in honour immediately to declare myself—it + is the best possible way of putting a stop to a report which will be + ultimately injurious to Lady Sarah.” + </p> + <p> + Thus Vivian made his past irresolution an excuse for his present + precipitation, flattering himself, as men often do when they are yielding + to the impulse of their passions, that they are submitting to the dictates + of reason. At six o’clock in the morning the company dispersed. Lord + Glistonbury and Vivian were the last in the ball-room. His lordship began + some raillery upon our hero’s having declined appearing as Tancred, and + upon his having devoted himself all night to Lady Sarah. Vivian seized the + moment to explain his real feelings, and he made his proposal for Lady + Julia. It was received with warm approbation by the father, who seemed to + rejoice the more in this proposal, because he knew that it would + disappoint and mortify Lady Glistonbury. The interests of his hatred + seemed, indeed, to occupy his lordship more than the interests of Vivian’s + love; but politeness threw a decent veil over these feelings; and, after + saying all that could be expected of the satisfaction it must be to a + father to see his daughter united to a man of Mr. Vivian’s family, + fortune, talents, and great respectability; and after having given, + incidentally and parenthetically, his opinions, not only concerning + matrimony, but concerning all other affairs of human life, he wished his + future son-in-law a very good night, and left him to repose. But no rest + could Vivian take—he waited with impatience, that made every hour + appear at least two, for the time when he was again to meet Lady Julia. He + saw her at breakfast; but he perceived by her countenance that she as yet + knew nothing of his proposal. After breakfast Lord Glistonbury said, “Come + with me, my little Julia! it is a long time since I’ve had a walk and a + talk with you.” His lordship paced up and down the terrace, conversing + earnestly with her for some time: he then went on to some labourers, who + were cutting down a tree at the farther end of the avenue. Vivian hastened + out to meet Lady Julia, who, after standing deep in thought for some + moments, seemed returning towards the castle. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. + </h2> + <p> + “Mr. Vivian, I trust that I am not deficient in maidenly modesty,” said + Lady Julia, “when it is not incompatible with what I deem a higher virtue—sincerity. + Now and ever, frankness is, and shall be, my only policy. The confidence I + am about to repose in you, sir, is the strongest proof of my esteem, and + of the gratitude I feel for your attachment.—My heart is no longer + in my power to bestow. It is—young as I am, I dare to pronounce the + words—irrevocably fixed upon one who will do honour to my choice. + Your proposal was made to my father—Why was it not made to me?—Men—all + men but one—treat women as puppets, and then wonder that they are + not rational creatures!—Forgive me this too just reproach. But, as I + was going to say, your proposal has thrown me into great difficulties—the + greater because my father warmly approves of it. I have a strong affection + for him; and, perhaps, a year or two ago, I should, in the ignorance in + which I was dogmatically brought up, have thought it my duty to submit + implicitly to parental authority, and to receive a husband from the hands + of a father, without consulting either my own heart or my own judgment. + But, since my mind has been more enlightened, and has opened to higher + views of the dignity of my sex, and higher hopes of happiness, my ideas of + duty have altered; and, I trust, I have sufficient courage to support my + own idea of the rights of my sex, and my firm conviction of what is just + and becoming.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian was again going to say something; but, whether against or in favour + of the rights of the sex, he had not clearly decided; when her ladyship + saved him the trouble, by proceeding with the train of her ideas. + </p> + <p> + “My sincerity towards my father will, perhaps, cost me dear; but I cannot + repent of it. As soon as I knew the state of my own heart—which was + not till very lately—which was not, indeed, till you gave me reason + to think you seriously liked me—I openly told my father all I knew + of my own heart. Would you believe it?—I am sure I should not, + unless I had seen and felt it—my father, who, you know, professes + the most liberal opinions possible; my father, who, in conversation is + ‘All for love, and the world well lost;’ my father, who let Miss Bateman + put the Heloise into my hands, was astonished, shocked, indignant, at his + own daughter’s confession, I should say, assertion of her preference of a + man of high merit, who wants only the advantages, if they be advantages, + of rank and fortune. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Vivian,” continued she, “may I hope that now, when you must be + convinced of the inefficacy of any attempt either to win or to control my + affections, you will have the generosity to spare me all unnecessary + contest with my father? It must render him more averse from the only union + that can make his daughter happy; and it may ruin the fortunes of—the + first, in my opinion, of human beings. I will request another favour from + you—and let my willingness to be obliged by you convince you that I + appreciate your character—I request that you will not only keep + secret all that I have said to you; but that, if accident, or your own + penetration, should hereafter discover to you the object of my affection, + you will refrain from making any use of that discovery to my disadvantage. + You see how entirely I have thrown myself on your honour and generosity.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian assured her that the appeal was powerful with him; and that, by + mastering his own passions, and sacrificing his feelings to hers, he would + endeavour to show his strong desire to secure, at all events, her + happiness. + </p> + <p> + “You are truly generous, Mr. Vivian, to listen to me with indulgence, to + wish for my happiness, whilst I have been wounding your feelings. But, + without any impeachment of your sincerity, or yet of your sensibility, let + me say, that yours will be only a transient disappointment. Your + acquaintance with me is but of yesterday, and the slight impression made + on your mind will soon be effaced; but upon my mind there has been time to + grave a deep, a first charactery of love, that never, whilst memory holds + her seat, can be erased.—I believe,” said Julia, checking herself, + whilst a sudden blush overspread her countenance—“I am afraid that I + have said too much, too much for a woman. The fault of my character, I + know, I have been told, is the want of what is called RESERVE.” + </p> + <p> + Blushing still more deeply as she pronounced these last words, the colour + darting up to her temples, spreading over her neck, and making its way to + the very tips of her fingers, “Now I have done worse,” cried she, covering + her face with her hands. But the next moment, resuming, or trying to + resume her self-possession, she said, “It is time that I should retire, + now that I have revealed my whole heart to you. It has, perhaps, been + imprudently opened; but for that, your generosity, sir, is to blame. Had + you shown more selfishness, I should assuredly have exerted more prudence, + and have treated you with less confidence.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Julia quitted him, and Vivian remained in a species of amaze, from + which he could not immediately recover. Her frankness, her magnanimity, + her enthusiastic sensibility, her eloquent beauty, had altogether exalted, + to the highest ecstasy, his love and admiration. Then he walked about, + beating his breast in despair at the thought of her affections being + irrecoverably engaged,—next quarrelled with the boldness of the + confession, the <i>assertion</i> of her love—then decided, that, + with all her shining qualities and noble dispositions, she was not exactly + the woman a man should desire for a wife: there was something too rash, + too romantic about her; there was in her character, as she herself had + said, and as Russell had remarked, too little <i>reserve</i>. Something + like jealousy and distrust of his friend arose in Vivian’s mind: “What!” + said he to himself, “and is Russell my rival? and has he been all this + time in secret my rival? Is it possible that Russell has been practising + upon the affections of this innocent young creature—confided to him + too? All this time, whilst he has been cautioning me against her charms, + beseeching me not to propose for her precipitately, is it possible that he + wanted only to get, to keep the start of me?—No—impossible! + utterly impossible! If all the circumstances, all the evidence upon earth + conspired, I would not believe it.” + </p> + <p> + Resolved not to do injustice, even in his inmost soul, to his friend, our + hero repelled all suspicion of Russell, by reflecting on his long and + tried integrity, and on the warmth and fidelity of his friendship. In this + temper he was crossing the castle-yard to go to Russell’s apartment, when + he was met and stopped by one of the domesticated friends of the family, + Mr. Mainwaring, the young lawyer: he was in the confidence of Lord + Glistonbury, and, proud to show it, he let Mr. Vivian know that he was + apprised of the proposal that had been made, and congratulated him, and + all the parties concerned, on the prospect of such an agreeable connexion. + Vivian was quite unprepared to speak to any one, much less to a lawyer, + upon this subject; he had not even thought of the means of obeying Lady + Julia, by withdrawing his suit; therefore, with a mixture of vexation and + embarrassment in his manner, he answered in commonplace phrases, meant to + convey no precise meaning, and endeavoured to disengage himself from his + companion; but the lawyer, who had fastened upon him, linking his arm in + Vivian’s, continued to walk him up and down under the great gateway, + saying that he had a word or two of importance for his private ear. This + man had taken much pains to insinuate himself into Vivian’s favour, by the + most obsequious and officious attentions: though his flattery had at first + been disgusting, yet, by persevering in his show of civility, he had at + length inclined Vivian to think that he was too harsh in his first + judgment, and to believe that, “after all, Mainwaring was a good friendly + fellow, though his manner was against him.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mainwaring, with many professions of regard for Vivian, and with + sundry premisings that he hazarded himself by the communication, took the + liberty of hinting, that he guessed, from Mr. Vivian’s manner this + morning, that obstacles had arisen on the part of a young lady who should + be nameless; and he should make bold to add that, in his private opinion, + the said obstacles would never be removed whilst <i>a certain person</i> + remained in the castle, and whilst the young lady alluded to was allowed + to spend so much of her time studying with her brother when well, or + nursing him when sick. Mr. Mainwaring declared that he was perfectly + astonished at Lord Glistonbury’s blindness or imprudence in keeping this + person in the house, after the hints his lordship had received, and after + all the proofs that must or may have fallen within his cognizance, of the + arts of seduction that had been employed. Here Vivian interrupted Mr. + Mainwaring, to beg that he would not keep him longer in suspense by <i>inuendoes</i>, + but that he would name distinctly the object of his suspicions. This, + however, Mr. Mainwaring begged to be excused from doing: he would only + shake his head and smile, and leave people to their own sagacity and + penetration. Vivian warmly answered, that, if Mr. Mainwaring meant Mr. + Russell, he was well assured that Mr. Mainwaring was utterly mistaken in + attributing to him any but the most honourable conduct. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mainwaring smiled, and shook his head—smiled again, and sighed, + and hoped Mr. Vivian was right, and observed that time would show; and + that, at all events, he trusted Mr. Vivian would keep profoundly secret + the hint which his friendship had, indiscreetly perhaps, hazarded. + </p> + <p> + Scarcely had Mr. Mainwaring retired, when Captain Pickering met and seized + upon Vivian, led to the same subject, and gave similar hints, that Russell + was the happy rival who had secretly made himself master of Lady Julia’s + heart. Vivian, though much astonished, finding that these gentlemen agreed + in their discoveries or their suspicions, still defended his friend + Russell, and strongly protested that he would be responsible for his + honour with his life, if it were necessary. The captain shrugged his + shoulders, said it was none of his business, that, as Mr. Vivian <i>took + it up so warmly,</i> he should let it drop; for it was by no means his + intention to get into a quarrel with Mr. Vivian, for whom he had a + particular regard. This said, with all the frankness of a soldier, Captain + Pickering withdrew, adding, as the clergyman passed at this instant, + “There’s a man who could tell you more than any of us, if he would, but <i>snug’s</i> + the word with Wicksted.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian, in great anxiety and much curiosity, appealed to Mr. Wicksted: he + protested that he knew nothing, suspected nothing, at least could venture + to say nothing; for these were very delicate family matters, and every + gentleman should, on these occasions, make it a principle to see with his + own eyes. Gradually, however, Mr. Wicksted let out his opinion, and + implied infinitely more than Captain Pickering or Mr. Mainwaring had + asserted. Vivian still maintained, in the warmest terms, that it was + impossible his friend Russell should be to blame. Mr. Wicksted simply + pronounced the word <i>friend</i> with a peculiar emphasis, and, with an + incredulous smile, left him to his reflections. Those reflections were + painful; for, though he defended Russell from the attacks of others, yet + he had not sufficient firmness of mind completely to resist the + suggestions of suspicion and jealousy, particularly when they had been + corroborated by so many concurring testimonies. He had no longer the + courage to go immediately to Russell, to tell him of his proposal for Lady + Julia, or to speak to him of any of his secret feelings; but, turning away + from the staircase that led to his friend’s apartment, he determined to + observe Russell with his own eyes, before he should decide upon the truth + or falsehood of the accusations which had been brought against him. Alas! + Vivian was no longer in a condition to observe with his own eyes; his + imagination was so perturbed, that he could neither see nor hear any thing + as it really was. When he next saw Russell and Lady Julia together, he + wondered at his blindness in not having sooner perceived their mutual + attachment: notwithstanding that Lady Julia had now the strongest motives + to suppress every indication of her passion, symptoms of it broke out + continually, the more violent, perhaps, from her endeavours to conceal + them. He knew that she was passionately in love with Russell; and that + Russell should not have perceived what every other man, even every + indifferent spectator, had discovered, appeared incredible. Russell’s calm + manner and entire self-possession sometimes provoked Vivian, and sometimes + quelled his suspicions; sometimes he looked upon this calmness as the + extreme of art, sometimes as a proof of innocence, which could not be + counterfeit. At one moment he was so much struck with Russell’s friendly + countenance, that, quite ashamed of his suspicions, he was upon the point + of speaking openly to him; but, unfortunately, these intentions were + frustrated by some slight obstacle. At length Miss Strictland, who had + lately been very courteous to Mr. Vivian, took an opportunity of drawing + him into one of the recessed windows; where, with infinite difficulty in + bringing herself to speak on such a subject, after inconceivable bridlings + of the head, and contortions of every muscle of her neck, she insinuated + to him her fears, that my Lord Glistonbury’s confidence had been very ill + placed in Lord Lidhurst’s tutor: she was aware that Mr. Russell had the + honour of Mr. Vivian’s friendship, but nothing could prevent her from + speaking, where she felt it to be so much her duty; and that, as from the + unfortunate circumstances in the family she had no longer any influence + over Lady Julia Lidhurst, nor any chance of being listened to on such a + subject with patience by Lord Glistonbury, she thought the best course she + could take was to apply to Mr. Russell’s friend, who might possibly, by + his interference, prevent the utter disgrace and ruin of one branch of a + noble family. + </p> + <p> + Miss Strictland, in all she said, hinted not at Vivian’s attachment to + Lady Julia, and gave him no reason to believe that she was apprised of his + having proposed for her ladyship: she spoke with much moderation and + candour; attributed all Lady Julia’s errors to the imprudence of her new + governess, Miss Bateman. Miss Strictland now showed a desire not to make, + but to prevent mischief; even the circumlocutions and stiffness of her + habitual prudery did not, on this occasion, seem unseasonable; therefore + what she suggested made a great impression on Vivian. He still, however, + defended Russell, and assured Miss Strictland that, from the long + experience he had himself had of his friend’s honour, he was convinced + that no temptation could shake his integrity. Miss Strictland had formed + her opinion on this point, she said, and it would be in vain to argue + against it. Every new assertion; the belief of each new person who spoke + to him on the subject; the combination, the coincidence of all their + opinions, wrought his mind to such a height of jealousy, that he was now + absolutely incapable of using his reason. He went in search of Russell, + but in no fit mood to speak to him as he ought. He looked for him in his + own, in Lord Lidhurst’s apartment, in every sitting-room in the castle; + but Mr. Russell was not to be found: at last Lady Sarah’s maid, who heard + him inquiring for Mr. Russell from the servants, told him, “she fancied + that if he took the trouble to go to the west walk, he might find Mr. + Russell, as that was a favourite walk of his.” Vivian hurried thither, + with a secret expectation of finding Lady Julia with him—there they + both were in earnest conversation: as he approached, the trees concealed + him from view; and Vivian heard his own name repeated. “Stop!” cried he, + advancing: “let me not overhear your secrets—I am not a traitor to + my friends!” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke, his eyes fixed with an expression of concentrated rage upon + Russell. Terrified by Vivian’s sudden appearance and strange address, and + still more by the fierce look he cast on Russell, Lady Julia started and + uttered a faint scream. With astonishment, but without losing his + self-command, Russell advanced towards Vivian, saying, “You are out of + your senses, my dear friend!—I will not listen to you in your + present humour. Take a turn or two with me to cool yourself. The anger of + a friend should always be allowed three minutes’ grace, at least,” added + Russell, smiling, and endeavouring to draw Vivian away: but Vivian stood + immoveable; Russell’s calmness, instead of bringing him to his senses, + only increased his anger; to his distempered imagination this coolness + seemed perfidious dissimulation. + </p> + <p> + “You cannot deceive me longer, Mr. Russell, by all your art!” cried he. + “Though I am the last to open my eyes, I have opened them. Why did you + pretend to be my counsellor and friend, when you were my rival?—when + you knew that you were my successful rival?——Yes, start and + affect astonishment! Yes—look, if you can, with <i>innocent</i> + surprise upon that lady!—Say that you have not betrayed her father’s + confidence!—say, that you have not practised upon her unguarded + heart!—say, that you do not know that she loves you to distraction!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Mr. Vivian, what have you done?” cried Lady Julia: she could say no + more, but fell senseless on the ground. Vivian’s anger was at once sobered + by this sight. + </p> + <p> + “What have I done!” repeated he, as they raised her from the ground. + “Wretch! dishonourable villain that I am! I have betrayed her secret—But + I thought every body knew it!——Is it possible that <i>you</i> + did not know it, Russell?” + </p> + <p> + Russell made no reply, but ran to the river which was near them for some + water—Vivian was incapable of affording any assistance, or even of + forming a distinct idea. As soon as Lady Julia returned to her senses, + Russell withdrew; Vivian threw himself on his knees before her, and said + something about the violence of his passion—his sorrow—and her + forgiveness. “Mr. Vivian,” said Lady Julia, turning to him with a mixture + of despair and dignity in her manner, “do not kneel to me; do not make use + of any commonplace phrases—I cannot, at this moment, forgive you—you + have done me an irreparable injury. I confided a secret to you—a + secret known to no human being but my father and yourself—you have + revealed it, and to whom?—Sooner would I have had it proclaimed to + the whole world than to ——; for what is the opinion of the + whole world to me, compared to his?—Sir, you have done me, indeed, + an irremediable injury!—I trusted to your honour—your + discretion—and you have betrayed, sacrificed me.” + </p> + <p> + “Vile suspicions!” cried Vivian, striking his forehead: “how could I + listen to them for a moment!” + </p> + <p> + “Suspicions of Mr. Russell!” cried Julia, with a look of high indignation—“Suspicions + of your noble-minded friend!—What wickedness, or what weakness!” + </p> + <p> + “Weakness!—miserable weakness!—the sudden effect of jealousy; + and could you know, Lady Julia, by what means, by what arts, my mind was + worked up to this insanity!” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot listen to this now, Mr. Vivian,” interrupted Lady Julia: “my + thoughts cannot fix upon such things—I cannot go back to the past—what + is done cannot be undone—what has been said cannot be unsaid.—You + cannot recall your words—they were heard—they were understood. + I beg you to leave me, sir, that I may have leisure to <i>think</i>—if + possible, to consider what yet remains for me to do. I have no friend—none, + none willing or capable of advising me! I begged of you to leave me, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian could not, at this moment, decide whether he ought or ought not to + tell Lady Julia that her secret was known, or at least suspected, by many + individuals of the family. + </p> + <p> + “There’s a servant on the terrace who seems to be looking for us,” said + Vivian; “I had something of consequence to say—but this man—” + </p> + <p> + “My lady, Miss Bateman desired me to let you know, my lady, that there is + the Lady Playdels, and the colonel, and Sir James, in the drawing-room, + just come;—and she begs, my lady, you will be pleased to come to + them; for Miss Bateman’s waiting for you, my lady, to repeat the verses, + she bid me say, my lady.” + </p> + <p> + “Go to them, Mr. Vivian; I cannot go.” + </p> + <p> + “My lady,” persisted the footman, “my lord himself begged you to come; and + he and all the gentlemen have been looking for you every where.” + </p> + <p> + “Return to my father, then, and say that I am coming immediately.” + </p> + <p> + “Forced into company!” thought Lady Julia, as she walked slowly towards + the house; “compelled to appear calm and gay, when my heart is—what + a life of dissimulation! How unworthy of me, formed, as I was once + pronounced to be, for every thing that is good and great!—But I am + no longer mistress of myself—no soul left but for one object. Why + did I not better guard my heart?—No!—rather, why can I not + follow its dictates, and at once avow and justify its choice?” + </p> + <p> + Vivian interrupted Lady Julia’s reverie by pointing out to her, as they + passed along the terrace, a group of heads, in one of the back windows of + the castle, that seemed to be watching them very earnestly. Miss + Strictland’s face was foremost; half her body was out of the window; and + as she drew back, they heard her say—“It is not he!—It is not + he!”—As they passed another front of the castle, another party + seemed to be upon the watch at a staircase window;—the lawyer, the + captain, the clergyman’s heads appeared for a moment, and vanished. + </p> + <p> + “They seem all to be upon the watch for us,” said Vivian. + </p> + <p> + “Meanness!” cried Lady Julia. “To watch or to be watched, I know not which + is most degrading; but I cannot think they are watching us.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Lady Julia!—yet let me call you dear this once—my + hopes are gone!—even for your forgiveness I have no right to hope—but + let me do you one piece of service—let me put your open temper on + its guard. You flatter yourself that the secret you confided to me is not + known to any body living but to your father—I have reason to believe + that it is suspected, if not positively known, by several other persons in + this castle.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible!” + </p> + <p> + “I am certain, too certain, of what I say.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Julia made a sudden stop; and, after a pause, exclaimed— + </p> + <p> + “Then farewell hope! and, with hope, farewell fear!” + </p> + <p> + “My lady, my lord sent me again, for my lord’s very impatient for you, my + lady,” said the same footman, returning. Lord Glistonbury met them in the + hall.—“Why, Julia! where have you been all this time?” he began, in + an imperious tone; but seeing Mr. Vivian, his brow grew smooth and his + voice good-humoured instantly.—“Ha!—So! so!—Hey! well!—All + right! all right!—Good girl! good girl!—Time for every thing—Hey! + Mr. Vivian?—‘Que la solitude est charmante!’ as Voltaire says—Beg + pardon for sending for you; but interruption, you know, prevents <i>têtes-à-têtes</i> + on the stage from growing tiresome; and the stage, they say, holds the + mirror up to nature. But there’s no nature now left to hold the mirror up + to, except in a few odd instances, as in my Julia here!—Where so + fast, my blushing darling?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you wished, sir, that I should go to Lady Playdel and Sir + James.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay, I sent for you to repeat those charming verses for them that I + could not clearly remember.—Go up! go up!—We’ll follow you!—We + have a word or two to say about something—that’s nothing to you.” + </p> + <p> + Lord Glistonbury kept Vivian for a full hour in a state of considerable + embarrassment, talking to him of Lady Julia, implying that she was + favourably disposed towards him, but that she had a little pride, that + might make her affect the contrary at first. Then came a disquisition on + pride, with quotations and commonplaces;—then an eulogium, by his + lordship, on his lordship’s own knowledge of the human heart, and more + especially of that “moving toyshop,” the female heart; then anecdotes + illustrative, comprising the gallantries of thirty years in various ranks + of life, with suitable bon-mots and embellishments;—then a little + French sentiment, by way of moral, with some philosophical axioms, to show + that, though he had led such a gay life, he had been a deep thinker, and + that, though nobody could have thought that he had had time for reading, + his genius had supplied him, he could not himself really tell how, with + what other people with the study of years could not master:—all + which Vivian was compelled to hear, whilst he was the whole time impatient + to get away, that he might search for Mr. Russell, with whom he was + anxious to have an explanation. But, at last, when Lord Glistonbury set + him free, he was not nearer to his object. Mr. Russell, he found upon + inquiry, had not returned to the castle, nor did he return to dinner; he + sent word that he was engaged to dine with a party of gentlemen at a + literary club, in a country town nine miles distant. Vivian spent the + greatest part of the evening in Lord Lidhurst’s apartment, expecting + Russell’s return; but it grew so late, that Lord Lidhurst, who was still + indisposed, went to bed; and when Vivian quitted his lordship, he met + Russell’s servant in the gallery, who said his master had been come in an + hour ago: “but, sir,” added the man, “my master won’t let you see him, I + am sure; for he would not let me in, and he said, that, if you asked for + him, I was to answer, that he could not see you to-night.”—Vivian + knocked in vain at Russell’s door; he could not gain admission; so he went + reluctantly to bed, determined to rise very early, that he might see his + friend as soon as possible, obtain his forgiveness for the past, and ask + his advice for the future. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. + </h2> + <p> + Suspense, curiosity, love, jealousy, remorse, any one of which is enough + to keep a person awake all night, by turns agitated poor Vivian so + violently, that for several hours he could not close his eyes; but at + last, when quite exhausted, he fell into a profound sleep. The first image + that came before his mind, when he awoke in the morning, was that of Lady + Julia; his next recollection was of Russell. + </p> + <p> + “Is Mr. Russell up yet?” said Vivian to his servant, who was bringing in + his boots. + </p> + <p> + “Up, sir! Oh, yes, hours ago!—He was <i>off</i> at daybreak!” + </p> + <p> + “Off!” cried Vivian, starting up in his bed; “off!—Where is he + gone?” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t say, sir. Yes, indeed, sir, I heard Mr. Russell’s man say, that + his master was going post to the north, to some old uncle that was taken + ill, which he heard about at dinner from some of those gentlemen where he + dined yesterday; but I can’t say positively. But here’s a letter he left + for you with me.” + </p> + <p> + “A letter!—Give it me!—Why didn’t you give it me sooner?” + </p> + <p> + “Why really, sir, you lay so sound, I didn’t care to waken you; and I was + up so late myself, too, last night.” + </p> + <p> + “Leave me now; I’ll ring when I want you.” + </p> + <p> + “TO C. VIVIAN, ESQ. + </p> + <p> + “I would not see you, after what passed yesterday, because I feared that I + should not speak to you with temper. Lest you should misinterpret any + thing I have formerly said, I must now solemnly assure you, that I never + had the slightest suspicion of the secret you revealed to me till the + moment when it was betrayed by your indiscretion. Still I can scarcely + credit what appears to me so improbable; but, even under this uncertainty, + I think it my duty to leave this family. Had the slightest idea of what + you suggested ever crossed my imagination, I should then have acted as I + do now. I say this, not to justify myself, but to convince you, that what + I formerly hinted about reserve of manners and prudence was merely a <i>general + reflection</i>. + </p> + <p> + “For my own part, I seem to act HEROICALLY; but I must disclaim that + applause to which I am not entitled. All powerful as the temptation must + appear to you, dangerous as it must have been, in other circumstances, to + me, I cannot claim any merit for resisting its influence. My safety I owe + neither to my own prudence or fortitude. I must now, Vivian, impart to you + a secret which you are at liberty to confide where and when you think + necessary—my heart is, and has long been, engaged. Whilst you were + attached to Miss Sidney, I endeavoured to subdue my love for her; and + every symptom of it was, I hope and believe, suppressed. This declaration + cannot now give you any pain; except so far as it may, perhaps, excite in + your mind some remorse for having unwarrantably, unworthily, and weakly, + suffered yourself to feel suspicions of a true friend. Well as I know the + infirmity of your character, and willing as I have always been to make + allowance for a fault which I thought time and experience would correct, I + was not prepared for this last stroke; I never thought your weakness of + mind would have shown itself in suspicion of your best, your long-tried + friend.—But I am at last convinced that your mind is not strong + enough for confidence and friendship. I pity, but I see that I can no + longer serve; and I feel that I can no longer esteem you. Farewell! + Vivian. May you find a friend, who will supply to you the place of H. + RUSSELL.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian knew Russell’s character too well to flatter himself that the + latter part of this letter was written in anger that would quickly + subside; from the tone of the letter he felt that Russell was deeply + offended. In the whole course of his life he had depended on Russell’s + friendship as a solid blessing, of which he could never be deprived by any + change of circumstances—by any possible chance in human affairs; and + now to have lost such a friend by his own folly, by his own weakness, was + a misfortune of which he could hardly believe the reality. At the same + moment, too, he learned how nobly Russell had behaved towards him, in the + most trying situation in which the human heart can be placed. Russell’s + love for Selina Sidney, Vivian had never till this instant suspected. + “What force, what command of mind!—What magnanimity!—What a + generous friend he has ever been to me!—and I—” + </p> + <p> + Poor Vivian, always sinning and always penitent, was so much absorbed by + sorrow for the loss of Russell’s friendship, that he could not for some + time think even of the interests of his love, or consider the advantage + which he might derive from the absence of his rival, and from that rival’s + explicit declaration, that his affections were irrevocably engaged. By + degrees these ideas rose clearly to Vivian’s view; his hopes revived. Lady + Julia would see the absolute impossibility of Russell’s returning, or of + his accepting her affection; her good sense, her pride, would in time + subdue this hopeless passion; and Vivian was generous enough, or + sufficiently in love, to feel that the value of her heart would not be + diminished, but rather increased in his opinion, by the sensibility she + had shown to the talents and virtues of his friend. <i>His friend</i>, + Vivian ventured now to call him; for with the hopes of love, the hopes of + friendship rose. + </p> + <p> + “All may yet be well!” said he to himself. “Russell will forgive me when + he hears how I was worked upon by those parasites and prudish busybodies, + who infused their vile suspicions into my mind. Weak as it is, I never + will allow that it is incapable of confidence or of friendship!—No! + Russell will retract that harsh sentence. When he is happy, as I am sure I + ardently hope he will be, in Selina’s love, he will restore me to his + favour. Without his friendship, I could not be satisfied with myself, or + happy in the full accomplishment of all my other fondest hopes.” + </p> + <p> + By the time that hope had thus revived and renovated our hero’s soul; by + the time that his views of things had totally changed, and that the colour + of his future destiny had turned from black to white—from all gloom + to all sunshine; the minute-hand of the clock had moved with unfeeling + regularity, or, in plain unmeasured prose, it was now eleven o’clock, and + three times Vivian had been warned that breakfast was ready. When he + entered the room, the first thing he heard, as usual, was Miss Bateman’s + voice, who was declaiming upon some sentimental point, in all “the high + sublime of deep absurd.” Vivian, little interested in this display, and + joining neither in the open flattery nor in the secret ridicule with which + the gentlemen wits and amateurs listened to the Rosamunda, looked round + for Lady Julia. “She breakfasts in her own room this morning,” whispered + Lord Glistonbury, before Vivian had even pronounced her ladyship’s name. + </p> + <p> + “So!” said Mr. Pickering, “we have lost Mr. Russell this morning!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Lord Glistonbury, “he was forced to hurry away to the north, I + find, to an old sick uncle.” + </p> + <p> + “Lord Lidhurst, I’m afraid, will break his heart for want of him,” cried + the lawyer, in a tone that might either pass for earnest or irony, + according to the fancy of the interpreter. + </p> + <p> + “Lord Lidhurst, did you say?”—cried the captain: “are you sure you + meant Lord Lidhurst? I don’t apprehend that a young nobleman ever broke + his heart after his tutor. But I was going to remark——” + </p> + <p> + What farther the captain was going to remark can never be known to the + world; for Lord Glistonbury so startled him by the loud and rather angry + tone in which he called for the cream, which <i>stood</i> with the + captain, that all his few ideas were put to flight. Mr. Pickering, who + noticed Lord Glistonbury’s displeasure, now resumed the conversation about + Mr. Russell in a new tone; and the lawyer and he joined in a eulogy upon + that gentleman. Lord Glistonbury said not a word, but looked embarrassed. + Miss Strictland cleared her throat several times, and looked infinitely + more rigid and mysterious than usual. Lady Glistonbury and Lady Sarah, + ditto—ditto. Almost every body, except such visitors as were + strangers at the castle, perceived that there was something extraordinary + going on in the family; and the gloom and constraint spread so, that, + towards the close of breakfast, nothing was uttered, by prudent people, + but awkward sentences about the weather—the wind—and the + likelihood of there being a mail from the continent. Still through all + this, regardless and unknowing of it all, the Rosamunda talked on, happily + abstracted, egotistically secured from the pains of sympathy or of + curiosity by the all-sufficient power of vanity. Even her patron, Lord + Glistonbury, was at last provoked and disgusted. He was heard, under his + breath, to pronounce a contemptuous <i>Pshaw!</i> and, as he rose from the + breakfast table he whispered to Vivian, “There’s a woman, now, who thinks + of nothing living but herself!—All talkèe talkèe!—I begin to + be weary of her.——Gentlemen,” continued his lordship, “I’ve + letters to write this morning.——You’ll ride—you’ll walk—you’re + for the billiard-room, I suppose.——Mr. Vivian, I shall find + you in my study, I hope, an hour hence; but first I have a little business + to settle.” With evident embarrassment Lord Glistonbury retired. Lady + Glistonbury, Lady Sarah, and Miss Strictland, each sighed; then, with + looks of intelligence, rose and retired. The company separated soon + afterwards; and went to ride, to walk, or to the billiard-room, and Vivian + to the study, to wait there for Lord Glistonbury, and to meditate upon + what might be the nature of his lordship’s business. As Vivian crossed the + gallery, the door of Lady Glistonbury’s dressing-room opened, and was shut + again instantaneously by Miss Strictland; but not before he saw Lady Julia + kneeling at her father’s feet, whilst Lady Glistonbury and Lady Sarah were + standing like statues, on each side of his lordship. Vivian waited a full + hour afterwards in tedious suspense in the study. At last he heard doors + open and footsteps, and he judged that the family council had broken up; + he laid down a book, of which he had read the same page over six times, + without any one of the words it contained having conveyed a single idea to + his mind. Lord Glistonbury came in, with papers and parchments in his + hands. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Vivian, I am afraid you have been waiting for me—have a + thousand pardons to ask—I really could not come any sooner—I + wished to speak to you—Won’t you sit down?—We had better sit + down quietly—there’s no sort of hurry.” + </p> + <p> + His lordship, however, seemed to be in great agitation-of spirits; and + Vivian was convinced that his mind must be interested in an extraordinary + manner, because he did not, as was his usual practice, digress to fifty + impertinent episodes before he came to the point. He only blew his nose + sundry times; and then at once said, “I wish to speak to you, Mr. Vivian, + about the proposal you did me the honour to make for my daughter Julia. + Difficulties have occurred on our side—very extraordinary + difficulties—Julia, I understand, has hinted to you, sir, the nature + of those difficulties.—Oh, Mr. Vivian,” said Lord Glistonbury, + suddenly quitting the constrained voice in which he spoke, and giving way + to his natural feelings, “you are a man of honour and feeling, and a + father may trust you!——Here’s my girl—a charming girl + she is; but knowing nothing of the world—self-willed, romantic, + open-hearted, imprudent beyond conception; do not listen to any of the + foolish things she says to you. You are a man of sense, you love her, and + you are every way suited to her; it is the first wish of my heart—I + tell you frankly—to see her your wife: then do not let her childish + folly persuade you that her affections are engaged—don’t listen to + any such stuff. We all know what the first loves of a girl of sixteen must + be—But it’s our fault—my fault, my fault, since they will have + it so. I care not whose fault it is; but we have had very improper people + about her—very!—very!—But all may be well yet, if you, + sir, will be steady, and save her—save her from herself. I would + farther suggest——” + </p> + <p> + Lord Glistonbury was going on, probably, to have weakened by amplification + the effect of what he had said, when Lady Julia entered the room; and, + advancing with dignified determination of manner, said, “I have your + commands, father, that I should see Mr. Vivian again:—I obey.” + </p> + <p> + “That is right—that is my darling Julia; I always knew she would + justify my high opinion of her.” Lord Glistonbury attempted to draw her + towards him fondly; but, with an unaltered manner, that seemed as if she + suppressed strong emotion, she answered, “I do not deserve your caresses, + father; do not oppress me with praise that I cannot merit: I wish to speak + to Mr. Vivian without control and without witness.” + </p> + <p> + Lord Glistonbury rose; and growing red and almost inarticulate with anger, + exclaimed, “Remember, Julia! remember, Lady Julia Lidhurst! that if you + say what you said you would say, and what I said you should not say—I—Lord + Glistonbury, your father—I, as well as all the rest of your family, + utterly disclaim and cast you off for ever!—You’ll be a thing + without fortune—without friends—without a name—without a + being in the world—Lady Julia Lidhurst!” + </p> + <p> + “I am well aware of that,” replied Lady Julia, growing quite pale, yet + without changing the determination of her countenance, or abating any + thing from the dignity of her manner: “I am well aware, that on what I am + about to do depends my having, or my ceasing from this moment to have, + fortune, friends, and a father.” + </p> + <p> + Lord Glistonbury stood still for a moment—fixed his eyes upon her as + if he would have read her soul; but, without seeking to elude his inquiry, + her countenance seemed to offer itself to his penetration. + </p> + <p> + “By Heaven, there is no understanding this girl!” cried his lordship. “Mr. + Vivian, I trust her to your honour—to your knowledge of the world—to + your good sense;—in short, sir, to your love and constancy.” + </p> + <p> + “And I, sir,” said Lady Julia, turning to Vivian, after her father had + left the room, and looking at Vivian so as to stop him short as he + approached, and to disconcert him in the commencement of a passionate + speech; “and I, too, sir, trust to your honour, whilst I deprecate your + love. Imprudent as I was in the first confidence I reposed in you, and + much as I have suffered by your rashness, I now stand determined to reveal + to you another yet more important, yet more humiliating secret—You + owe me no gratitude, sir!—I am compelled, by the circumstances in + which I am placed, either to deceive or to trust you. I must either become + your wife, and deceive you most treacherously; or I must trust you + entirely, and tell you why it would be shameful that I should become your + wife—shameful to me and to you.” + </p> + <p> + “To me!—Impossible!” cried Vivian, bursting into some passionate + expressions of love and admiration. + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me, sir; and do not make any of those rash professions, of + which you will soon repent. You think you are speaking to the same Lady + Julia you saw yesterday—No!—you are speaking to a very + different person—a few hours have made a terrible change. You see + before you, sir, one who has been, till this day, the darling and pride of + her father; who has lived in the lap of luxury; who has been flattered, + admired, by almost all who approached her; who had fortune, and rank, and + fair prospects in life, and youth, and spirits, and all the pride of + prosperity; who had, I believe, good dispositions, perhaps some talents, + and, I may say, a generous heart; who might have been,—but that is + all over—no matter what she might have been—she is + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘A tale for ev’ry prating she.’ +</pre> + <p> + Fallen!—fallen! fallen under the feet of those who worshipped her!—fallen + below the contempt of the contemptible!—Worse! worse! fallen in her + own opinion—never to rise again.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Julia’s voice failed, and she was forced to pause. She sunk upon a + seat, and hid her face—for some moments she neither saw nor heard; + but at last, raising her head, she perceived Vivian. + </p> + <p> + “You are in amazement, sir! and I see you pity me; but let me beg of you + to restrain your feelings—my own are as much as I can bear. O that I + could recall a few hours of my existence! But I have not yet been able to + tell you what has passed. My father, my friends, wish to conceal it from + you: but, whatever I have done, however low I have sunk, I will not + deceive, nor be an accomplice in deceit. From my own lips you shall hear + all. This morning at daybreak, not being able to sleep, and having some + suspicion that Mr. Russell would leave the castle, I rose, and whilst I + was dressing, I heard the trampling of horses in the court. I looked out + of my window, and saw Mr. Russell’s man saddling his master’s horse. I + heard Mr. Russell, a moment afterwards, order the servant to take the + horses to the great gate on the north road, and wait for him there, as he + intended to walk through the park. I thought these were the last words I + should ever hear him speak.—Love took possession of me—I stole + softly down the little staircase that leads from my turret to one of the + back doors, and got out of the castle, as I thought, unobserved: I hurried + on, and waited in the great oak wood, through which I knew Mr. Russell + would pass. When I saw him coming nearer and nearer to me, I would have + given the world to have been in my own room again—I hid myself among + the trees—yet, when he walked on in reverie without noticing me, + taking me probably for one of the servants, I could not bear to think that + this was the last moment I should ever see him, and I exclaimed—I + know not what; but I know that at the sound of my voice Mr. Russell + started, and never can I forget the look—Spare me the rest!—No!—I + will not spare myself—I offered my heart, my hand,—and they + were rejected!—In my madness I told him I regarded neither wealth, + nor rank, nor friends, nor—That I would rather live with him in + obscurity than be the greatest princess upon earth—I said this and + more—and I was rejected—And even at this moment, instead of + the vindictive passions which are said to fill the soul of a woman + scorned, I feel admiration for your noble friend: I have not done him + justice; I cannot repeat his words, or describe his manner. He persuaded, + by his eloquence compelled, me to return to this castle. He took from me + all hope; he destroyed by one word all my illusions—he told me that + he loves another. He has left me to despair, to disgrace; and yet I love, + esteem, and admire him, above all human beings! Admire one who despises + me!—Is it possible? I know not, but it is so—I have more to + tell you, sir!—As I returned to the castle, I was watched by Miss + Strictland. How she knew all that had passed, I cannot divine; perhaps it + was by means of some spy who followed me, and whom I did not perceive: for + I neither saw nor heard any thing but my passion. Miss Strictland + communicated her discovery immediately to my father. I have been these + last two hours before a family tribunal. My mother, with a coldness a + thousand times worse than my poor father’s rage, says, that I have only + accomplished her prophecies; that she always knew and told my father that + I should be a disgrace to my family. But no reproaches are equal to my + own; I stand self-condemned. I feel like one awakened from a dream. A few + words!—a single look from Mr. Russell!—how they have altered + all my views, all my thoughts! Two hours’ reflection—Two hours, did + I say?—whole years—a whole existence—have passed to me + in the last two hours: I am a different creature. But it is too late—too + late!—Self-esteem is gone!—happiness is over for me in this + world.” + </p> + <p> + “Happiness over for you!” exclaimed Vivian in a tone expressive of the + deep interest he felt for her; “Self-esteem gone!—No! Lady Julia; do + not blame yourself so severely for what has passed! Blame the + circumstances in which you have been placed; above all, blame me—blame + my folly—my madness; your secret never would have been known, if I + had not—” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you,” interrupted Lady Julia, rising from her seat; “but no + consolation can be of any avail. It neither consoles nor justifies me that + others have been to blame.” + </p> + <p> + “Permit me, at least,” pursued Vivian, “to speak of my own sentiments for + one moment. Permit me to say, Lady Julia, that the confidence with which + you have just honoured me, instead of diminishing my attachment, has so + raised my admiration for your candour and magnanimity, that no obstacles + shall vanquish my constancy. I will wait respectfully, and, if I can, + patiently, till time shall have effaced from your mind these painful + impressions; I shall neither ask nor accept of the interference or + influence of your father, nor of any of your friends; I shall rely solely + on the operation of your own excellent understanding, and shall hope for + my reward from your noble heart.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not think it possible,” said Lady Julia, looking at Vivian with + dignified determination, “you do not think it possible, after all that has + passed, after all that I have told you, that I could so far degrade myself + or you, as to entertain any thoughts of becoming your wife? Farewell! Mr. + Vivian.——You will not see me again. I shall obtain permission + to retire, and live with a relation in a distant part of the country; + where I shall no more be seen or heard of. My fortune will, I hope, be of + use to my sister.——My poor father!—I pity him; he loves + me: he loses his daughter for ever; worse than loses her! My mother, too—I + pity her! for, though she does not love me, she will suffer for me; she + will suffer more than my father, by the disgrace that would be brought + upon my family, if ever the secret should be publicly known. My brother!—Oh, + my beloved brother! he knows nothing yet of all this!—But why do I + grieve you with my agony of mind? Forget that Lady Julia Lidhurst ever + existed!—I wish you that happiness which I can never enjoy—I + wish you may deserve and win a heart capable of feeling real love!—Adieu!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. + </h2> + <p> + Convinced that all farther pursuit of Lady Julia Lidhurst would be vain, + that it could tend only to increase her difficulties and his + mortification, Vivian saw that the best thing he could possibly do was to + leave Glistonbury. Thus he should relieve the whole family from the + embarrassment of his presence; and, by immediate change of scene and of + occupation, he had the best chance of recovering from his own + disappointment. If Lady Julia was to quit the castle, he could have no + inducement to stay; if her ladyship remained, his continuing in her + society would be still more dangerous to his happiness. Besides, he felt + offended with Lord Glistonbury, who evidently had wished to conceal from + him the truth; and, without considering what was just or honourable, had + endeavoured to secure, at all events, an establishment for his daughter, + and a connexion for his family. To the weight of these reasons must be + added a desire to see Mr. Russell, and to effect a reconciliation with + him. The accumulated force of all these motives had power to overcome + Vivian’s habitual indecision: his servant was surprised by an order to + have every thing ready for his journey to town immediately. Whilst his man + prepared to obey, or at least to meditate upon the cause of this unusually + decided order, our hero went in quest of Lord Glistonbury, to pay his + compliments to his lordship previous to his departure. His lordship was in + his daughter Julia’s dressing-room, and could not be seen; but presently + he came to Vivian in great hurry and distress of mind. + </p> + <p> + “A sad stroke upon us, Mr. Vivian!—a sad stroke upon us all—but + most upon me; for she was the child of my expectations—I hear she + has told you every thing—you, also, have been very ill-used—Never + was astonishment equal to mine when I heard Miss Strictland’s story. I + need not caution you, Mr. Vivian, as to secrecy; you are a man of honour, + and you see the peace of our whole family is at stake. The girl is going + to a relation of ours in Devonshire.—Sha’n’t stay here—sha’n’t + stay here—Disgrace to my family—She who was my pride—and, + after all, says she will never marry.—Very well!—very well!—I + shall never see her again, that I am determined upon.—I told her, + that if she did not behave with common sense and propriety, in her last + interview with you, I would give her up—and so I will, and so I do.—The + whole is Lady Glistonbury’s fault—she never managed her rightly when + she was a child. Oh! I should put you on your guard in one particular—Miss + Bateman knows nothing of what has happened—I wish Miss Strictland + knew as little—I hate her. What business had she to play the spy + upon my daughter? She does well to be a prude, for she is as ugly as sin. + But we are in her power. She is to go to-morrow with Julia to Devonshire. + It will make a quarrel between me and Miss Bateman—no matter for + that; for now, the sooner we get rid of that Rosamunda, too, the better—she + talks me dead, and will let no one talk but herself. And, between you and + me, all this could not have happened, if she had looked after her charge + properly.—Not but what I think Miss Strictland was still less fit to + guide a girl of Julia’s genius and disposition. All was done wrong at + first, and I always said so to Lady Glistonbury. But, if the secret can be + kept—and <i>that</i> depends on you, my dear friend—after six + months’ or a twelve-month’s <i>rustication</i> with our poor parson in the + country, you will see how tamed and docile the girl will come back to us. + This is my scheme; but nobody shall know my whole mind but you—I + shall tell her I will never see her again; and that will pacify Lady + Glistonbury, and frighten Julia into submission. She says she’ll never + marry.—Stuff! Stuff!—You don’t believe her!—What man who + has seen any thing of the world ever believes such stuff?” + </p> + <p> + Vivian’s servant came into the room to ask his master some question about + horses. + </p> + <p> + “Going!—where? Going!—when? Going!—how?” cried Lord + Glistonbury, as soon as the servant withdrew. “Surely, you are not going + to leave us, Mr. Vivian?” + </p> + <p> + Vivian explained his reasons—Lord Glistonbury would not allow them + any weight, entreated and insisted that he should stay at least a few days + longer; for his going “just at this moment would seem quite like a break + up in the family, and would be the most unfriendly and cruel thing + imaginable.” Why Lord Glistonbury so earnestly pressed his stay, perhaps + even his lordship himself did not exactly know; for, with all the air of + being a person of infinite address and depth of design, his lordship was + in reality childishly inconsistent; what the French call <i>inconséquent</i>. + On any subject, great or small, where he once took it into his head, or, + as he called it, <i>made it a point</i>, that a thing should be so or so, + he was as peremptory, or, where he could not be peremptory, as anxious, as + if it were a matter of life and death. In his views there was no + perspective, no keeping—all objects appeared of equal magnitude; and + even now, when it might be conceived that his whole mind was intent upon a + great family misfortune, he, in the course of a few minutes, became as + eager about a mere trifle as if he had nothing else in the world to think + of. From the earnestness with which Lord Glistonbury urged him to stay a + few days, at least one day longer, Vivian was induced to believe that it + must be a matter of real consequence to his lordship—“And, in his + present state of distress, I cannot refuse such a request,” thought + Vivian. He yielded, therefore, to these solicitations, and consented to + stay a few days longer; though he knew the prolonging his visit would be, + in every respect, disagreeable. + </p> + <p> + At dinner Lord Glistonbury announced to the company that the physician had + advised change of air immediately for Lord Lidhurst; and that, in + consequence, his son would set out early the next morning for Devonshire—that + his daughter Julia wished to go with her brother, and that Miss Strictland + would accompany them. Lord Glistonbury apologized for his daughter’s + absence, “preparations for her journey so suddenly decided upon,” &c. + Lady Glistonbury and Lady Sarah looked terribly grim whilst all this was + saying; but the gravity and stiffness of their demeanour did not appear + any thing extraordinary to the greater part of the company, who had no + idea of what was going forward. The lawyer, the captain, and the chaplain, + however, interchanged significant looks; and many times, during the course + of the evening, they made attempts to draw out Vivian’s thoughts, but they + found him impenetrable. There was an underplot of a quarrel between Miss + Strictland and Miss Bateman, to which Vivian paid little attention; nor + was he affected, in the slightest degree, by the Rosamunda’s declaration + to Lord Glistonbury, that she must leave his family, since she found that + Miss Strictland had a larger share than herself of his lordship’s + confidence, and was, for what reason she could not divine, to have the + honour of accompanying Lady Julia into Devonshire. Vivian perceived these + quarrels, and heard the frivolous conversation of the company at + Glistonbury Castle without interest, and with a sort of astonishment at + the small motives by which others were agitated, whilst his whole soul was + engrossed by love and pity for Lady Julia. In vain he hoped for another + opportunity of seeing and speaking to her. She never appeared. The next + morning he rose at daybreak that he might have the chance of seeing her: + he begged Miss Strictland to entreat her ladyship would allow him to say a + few words before she set out; but Miss Strictland replied, that she was + assured the request would be vain; and he thought he perceived that Miss + Strictland, though she affected to lament Lady Julia’s blindness to her + own interests and contumacy, in opposing her father’s wishes, was, in + reality, glad that she persisted in her own determination. Lord Lidhurst, + on account of the weak state of his health, was kept in ignorance of every + thing that could agitate him; and, when Vivian took leave of him, the poor + young man left many messages of kindness and gratitude for Mr. Russell. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry that he was obliged to leave me; for, ill or well, there is no + human being, I will not except any one but my sister Julia, whom I should + so much wish to have with me. Tell him so; and tell him—be sure you + remember my very words, for perhaps I shall never see him again—tell + him, that, living or dying, I shall feel grateful to him. He has given me + tastes and principles very different from those I had when he came into + this house. Even in sickness, I feel almost every hour the advantage of my + present love for literature. If I should live and recover, I hope I shall + do him some credit; and I trust my family will join in my gratitude. + Julia, my dear sister! why do you weep so bitterly?—If I had seen + you come into the room, I would not have spoken of my health.” + </p> + <p> + Lord Glistonbury came up to tell them that Miss Strictland was ready. “Mr. + Vivian,” cried his lordship, “will you hand Julia into the carriage?—Julia, + Mr. Vivian is offering you his services.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian, as he attended Lady Julia, had so much respect for her feelings, + that, though he had been waiting with extreme impatience for an + opportunity <i>to say a few words</i>, yet now he would not speak, but + handed her along the gallery, down the staircase, and across the great + hall, in profound silence. She seemed sensible of this forbearance; and, + turning to him at a moment when they could not be overheard, said, “It was + not from unkindness, Mr. Vivian, I refused to see you again, but to + convince you that my mind is determined—if you have any thing to + say, I am ready to hear it.” + </p> + <p> + “Is there nothing to be hoped from time?” said Vivian. “Your father, I + know, has hopes that——All I ask is, that you will not make any + rash resolutions.” + </p> + <p> + “I make none; but I tell <i>you</i>, for your own sake, not to cherish any + vain hope. My father does not know my mind sufficiently, therefore he may + deceive you; but I will not.——I thought, after the manner in + which I spoke to you yesterday, you would have had too much strength of + mind to have rendered this repetition of my sentiments necessary.——Attach + yourself elsewhere as soon as you can.—I sincerely wish your + happiness. Miss Strictland is waiting.—Farewell!” + </p> + <p> + She hurried forward to the carriage; and, when she was gone, Vivian + repented that he had seen her again, as it had only given them both + additional and fruitless pain. + </p> + <p> + What passed during some succeeding days at Glistonbury Castle he scarcely + knew; no trace remained in his mind of anything but the confused noise of + people, who had been talking, laughing, and diverting themselves in a + manner that seemed to him incomprehensible. He exerted himself, however, + so far as to write to Russell, to implore his forgiveness, and to solicit + a return of his friendship, which, in his present state of unhappiness, + was more necessary to him than ever. When he had finished and despatched + this letter, he sunk again into a sort of reckless state, without hope or + determination, as to his future life. He could not decide whether he + should go to his mother immediately on leaving Glistonbury, or to Mr. + Russell, or (which he knew was the best course he could pursue) attend his + duty in parliament, and, by plunging at once into public business, change + the course of his thoughts, and force his mind to resume its energy. After + altering his determination twenty times, after giving at least a dozen + contradictory orders about his journey, his servant at last had his + ultimatum, <i>for London</i>—the carriage to be at the door at ten + o’clock the next morning. Every thing was ready at the appointed hour. + Breakfast over, Vivian waited only to pay his compliments to Lady + Glistonbury, who had breakfasted in her own apartment. Lady Sarah, with a + manner as formal as usual, rose from the breakfast-table, and said she + would let her mother know that Mr. Vivian was going. Vivian waited half an + hour—an hour—two hours. Lady Glistonbury did not appear, nor + did Lady Sarah return. The company had dispersed after the first + half-hour. Lord Glistonbury began to believe that the ladies did not mean + to make their appearance. At length a message came from Lady Glistonbury.—“Lady + Glistonbury’s compliments to Mr. Vivian—her ladyship was concerned + that it was out of her power to have the pleasure of seeing Mr. Vivian, as + she was too much indisposed to leave her room.—She and Lady Sarah + wished him a very good journey.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian went up to his room for his gloves, which he missed at the moment + when he was going. Whilst he was opening the empty drawers one after + another, in search of his gloves, and, at the same time, calling his + servant to find them, he heard a loud scream from an adjoining apartment. + He listened again—all was silent; and he supposed that what he had + heard was not a scream: but, at that moment, Lady Sarah’s maid flung open + his door, and, running in with out-stretched arms, threw herself at + Vivian’s feet. Her sobs and tears prevented his understanding one syllable + she said. At last she articulated intelligibly, “Oh, sir!—don’t be + so cruel to go—my lady!—my poor lady! If you go, it will kill + Lady Sarah!” + </p> + <p> + “Kill Lady Sarah?—Why I saw her in perfect health this morning at + breakfast!” + </p> + <p> + “Dear, dear sir! you know nothing of the matter!” said the maid, rising, + and shutting the door: “you don’t know what a way she has been in ever + since the talk of your going—fits upon fits every night, and my + lady, her mother, and I up holding her—and none in the house knowing + it but ourselves. Very well at breakfast! Lord help us! sir. How little + you know of what she has suffered! Lord have mercy upon me! I would not be + a lady to be so much in love, and left so, for any thing in the whole + world. And my Lady Sarah keeps every thing so to herself;—if it was + not for these fits they would never have knowed she cared no more for you + than a stone.” + </p> + <p> + “And, probably you are quite mistaken,” said Vivian; “and that I have + nothing to do with the young lady’s illness. If she has fits, I am very + sorry for it; but I can’t possibly——Certainly, you are quite + mistaken!” + </p> + <p> + “Lord, sir!—mistaken! As if I could be mistaken, when I know my lady + as well as I know myself! Why, sir, I know from the time of the election, + when you was given to her by all the country—and to be sure when we + all thought it would be a match directly—and the Lord knows what put + it off!—I say, from that time, her heart was set upon you. Though + she never said a word to me, or any one, I knew how it was, through all + her coldness—And to be sure, when you was in Lon’on so much with us, + all the town said, as all the country did afore, that to be sure it was to + be a match—But then that sad affair, with that artfullest of women, + that took you off from all that was good, and away, the Lord knows where, + to foreign parts!—Well! to be sure, I never shall forget the day you + come back again to us!—and the night of the ball!—and you + dancing with my lady, and all so happy; then, to be sure, all were sarten + it was to be immediately——And now to go and break my poor + lady’s heart at the last—Oh, sir, sir! if you could but see her, it + would touch a heart of marble!” + </p> + <p> + Vivian’s astonishment and dismay were so great, that he suffered the girl, + who was an unpractised creature, to go on speaking without interruption: + the warmth of affection with which she spoke of her lady, also, surprised + him: for, till this instant, he had no idea that any one could love Lady + Sarah Lidhurst; and the accounts she gave of the lady’s sufferings not + only touched his compassion, but worked upon his vanity. “This cold, proud + young lady that never loved none before, to think,” as her maid said, + “that she should come to such a pass, as to be in fits about him. And it + was her belief that Lady Sarah never would recover it, if he went away out + of the castle this day.” + </p> + <p> + The ringing of a bell had repeatedly been heard, whilst Lady Sarah’s maid + was speaking; it now rang violently, and her name was called vehemently + from the adjoining apartment. “I must go, I <i>must</i> go!—Oh, sir! + one day, for mercy’s sake! stay one day longer!” + </p> + <p> + Vivian, though he had been moved by this girl’s representations, was + determined to effect his retreat whilst it was yet in his power; therefore + he ran down stairs, and had gained the hall, where he was shaking hands + with Lord Glistonbury, when my Lady Glistonbury’s own woman came in a + great hurry to say, that her lady, finding herself a little better now, + and able to see Mr. Vivian, begged he would be so good as to walk up to + her dressing-room. + </p> + <p> + Vivian, with a heavy heart and slow steps, obeyed; there was no refusing, + no evading such a request. He summoned all his resolution, at the same + time saying to himself, as he followed his conductor along the gallery, + “It is impossible that I can ever be drawn in to marry Lady Sarah.—This + is a concerted plan, and I shall not be so weak as to be the dupe of so + gross an artifice.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Glistonbury’s maid showed him into her lady’s dressing-room and + retired. Lady Glistonbury was seated, and, without speaking, pointed to a + chair which was set opposite to her. “So! a preparation for a scene,” + thought Vivian. He bowed, but, still keeping his hat in his hand, did not + sit down:—he was extremely happy to hear, that her ladyship found + herself something better—much honoured by her permitting him to pay + his respects, and to offer his grateful acknowledgments to her ladyship + before his departure from Glistonbury. + </p> + <p> + Her ladyship, still without speaking, pointed to the chair. Vivian sat + down, and looked as if he had “screwed his courage to the sticking place.” + Lady Glistonbury had sometimes a little nervous trembling of her head, + which was the only symptom of internal agitation that was ever observable + in her; it was now increased to a degree which Vivian had never before + seen. + </p> + <p> + “Are you in haste, sir, to be gone?” said Lady Glistonbury. + </p> + <p> + “Not if her ladyship had any commands for him; but otherwise, he had + intended, if possible, to reach town that night.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not delay you many minutes, Mr. Vivian,” said her ladyship. “You + need not be under apprehension that Lady Glistonbury should seek to detain + you longer than your own inclinations induce you to stay; it is, + therefore, unnecessary to insult her with any appearance of haste or + impatience.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian instantly laid down his hat, and protested that he was not in the + slightest degree impatient: he should be very ungrateful, as well as very + ill-bred, if, after the most hospitable manner in which he had been + received and entertained at Glistonbury Castle, he could be in haste to + quit it. He was entirely at her ladyship’s orders. + </p> + <p> + Lady Glistonbury bowed formally—was again silent—the trembling + of her head very great—the rest of her form motionless. + </p> + <p> + “I have sent for you, Mr. Vivian,” said she, “that I might, before you + leave this castle, set you right on a subject which much concerns me. From + the representations of a foolish country girl, a maid-servant of my + daughter, Lady Sarah Lidhurst, which I have just discovered she has made + to you, I had reason to fear that you might leave Glistonbury with very + false notions——” + </p> + <p> + A cry was heard at this moment from the inner apartment, which made Vivian + start; but Lady Glistonbury, without noticing it, went on speaking. + </p> + <p> + “With notions very injurious to my daughter Sarah; who, if I know any + thing of her, would rather, if it were so ordained, go out of this world, + than condescend to any thing unbecoming her sex, her education, and her + family.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian, struck with respect and compassion for the mother, who spoke to + him in this manner, was now convinced that there had been no concerted + plan to work upon his mind, that the maid had spoken without the knowledge + of her lady; and the more proudly solicitous Lady Glistonbury showed + herself to remove what she called the false impression from his mind, the + more he was persuaded that the girl had spoken the truth. He was much + embarrassed between his good-nature and his dread of becoming a sacrifice + to his humanity. + </p> + <p> + He replied in general terms to Lady Glistonbury, that he had the highest + respect for Lady Sarah Lidhurst, and that no opinion injurious to her + could be entertained by him. + </p> + <p> + “Respect she must command from all,” said Lady Glistonbury; “<i>that</i> + it is out of any man’s power to refuse her: as to the rest, she leaves + you, and I leave you, sir, to your own conscience.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Glistonbury rose, and so did Vivian. He hoped that neither her + ladyship nor Lady Sarah had any cause——He hesitated; the + words, <i>to reproach, to complain, to be displeased</i>, all came to his + lips; but each seemed improper; and, none other being at hand to convey + his meaning, he could not finish his sentence: so he began another upon a + new construction, with “I should be much concerned if, in addition to all + my other causes of regret in leaving Glistonbury Castle, I felt that I had + incurred Lady Glistonbury’s or Lady Sarah’s displea—disapprobation.” + </p> + <p> + “As to that, sir,” said Lady Glistonbury, “I cannot but have my own + opinion of your conduct; and you can scarcely expect, I apprehend, that a + mother, such as I am, should not feel some disapprobation of conduct, + which has——Sir, I beg I may not detain you—I have the + honour to wish you a good journey and much happiness.” + </p> + <p> + An attendant came from an inner apartment with a message! from Lady Sarah, + who was worse, and wished to see her mother—“Immediately!—tell + her, immediately!” + </p> + <p> + The servant returned with the answer. Vivian was retiring, but he came + back, for he saw at that moment a convulsive motion contract Lady + Glistonbury’s face: she made an effort to walk; but if Vivian had not + supported her instantly, she must have fallen. She endeavoured to + disengage herself from his assistance, and again attempted to walk. + </p> + <p> + “For God’s sake, lean upon me, madam!” said Vivian, much alarmed. With his + assistance, she reached the door of the inner room: summoning all the + returning powers of life, she then withdrew her arm from his, and pointing + back to the door at which Vivian entered, she said, “That is your way, + sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me—I cannot go—I cannot leave you at this moment,” + said Vivian. + </p> + <p> + “This is my daughter’s apartment, sir,” said Lady Glistonbury, stopping, + and standing still and fixed. Some of the attendants within, hearing her + ladyship’s voice, opened the door; Lady Glistonbury made an effort to + prevent it, but in vain: the chamber was darkened, but as the door opened, + the wind from an open window blew back the curtain, and some light fell + upon a canopy bed, where Lady Sarah lay motionless, her eyes closed, and + pale as death; one attendant chafing her temples, another rubbing her + feet: she looked up just after the door opened, and, raising her head, she + saw Vivian—a gleam of joy illumined her countenance, and coloured + her cheek. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” repeated Lady Glistonbury, “this is my daughter’s——” + </p> + <p> + She could articulate no more. She fell across the threshold, struck with + palsy. Her daughter sprang from the bed, and, with Vivian’s assistance, + raised and carried Lady Glistonbury to an arm-chair near the open window, + drew back the curtain, begged Vivian to go to her father, and instantly to + despatch a messenger for medical assistance. Vivian sent his own servant, + who had his horse ready at the door, and he bid the man go as fast as he + could. + </p> + <p> + “Then you don’t leave Glistonbury to-day, sir?” said the servant. + </p> + <p> + “Do as I order you—Where’s Lord Glistonbury?” + </p> + <p> + His lordship, with the newspapers and letters open in his hand, came up—but + they dropped on hearing the intelligence that Vivian communicated. His + lordship was naturally humane and good-natured; and the shock was greater, + perhaps, to him, from the sort of enmity in which he lived with Lady + Glistonbury. + </p> + <p> + “I dread to go up stairs,” said he. “For God’s sake, Vivian, don’t leave + me in this distress!—do order your carriage away!——Put + up Mr. Vivian’s carriage.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Sarah’s maid came to tell them that Lady Glistonbury had recovered + her speech, and that she had asked, “if Mr. Vivian was gone?” + </p> + <p> + “Do come up with me,” cried Lord Glistonbury, “and she will see you are + not gone.” + </p> + <p> + “Here’s my lord and Mr. Vivian, my lady,” said the girl. + </p> + <p> + Then, turning to Lady Glistonbury’s woman, she added, in a loud whisper, + “Mr. Vivian won’t go to-day.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Sarah gave her maid some commission, which took her out of the room. + Lady Sarah, no longer the formal, cold, slow personage whom Vivian + detested, now seemed to him, and not only seemed but was, quite a + different being, inspired with energy, and quickness, and presence of + mind: she forgot herself, and her illness, and her prudery, and her love, + and every other consideration, in the sense of her mother’s danger. Lady + Glistonbury had but imperfectly recovered her recollection. At one moment + she smiled on Vivian, and tried to stretch out her hand to him, as she saw + him standing beside Lady Sarah. But when he approached Lady Glistonbury, + and spoke to her, she seemed to have some painful recollection, and, + looking round the room, expressed surprise and uneasiness at his being + there. Vivian retired; and Lord Glistonbury, who was crying like a child, + followed, saying, “Take me out with you—Dr. G—— ought to + be here before now—I’ll send for another physician!—Very + shocking—very shocking—at Lady Glistonbury’s time of life, too—for + she is not an old woman by any means. Lady Glistonbury is eighteen months + younger than I am!—Nobody knows how soon it may be their turn!—It’s + very shocking!—If I had known she was ill, I would have had advice + for her sooner. She is very patient—too patient—a great deal + too patient. She never will complain—never tells what she feels, + body or mind—at least never tells <i>me</i>; but that may be my + fault in some measure. Should be very sorry Lady Glistonbury went out of + the world with things as they are now between us. Hope to God she will get + over this attack!—Hey! Mr. Vivian?” + </p> + <p> + Vivian said whatever he could to fortify this hope, and was glad to see + Lord Glistonbury show feelings of this sort. The physician arrived, and + confirmed these hopes by his favourable prognostics. In the course of the + day and night her face, which had been contracted, resumed its natural + appearance; she recovered the use of her arm: a certain difficulty of + articulation, and thickness of speech, with what the physician called + hallucination of mind, and a general feebleness of body, were all the + apparent consequences of this stroke. She was not herself sensible of the + nature of the attack, or clear in her ideas of any thing that had passed + immediately previous to it. She had only an imperfect recollection of her + daughter’s illness, and of some hurry about Mr. Vivian’s going away. She + was, however, well enough to go into her dressing-room, where Vivian went + to pay his respects to her, with Lord Glistonbury. By unremitting + exertions, and unusual cheerfulness, Lady Sarah succeeded in quieting her + mother’s confused apprehensions on her account. When out of Lady + Glistonbury’s hearing, all the attendants and the physicians repeatedly + expressed fear that Lady Sarah would over-fatigue and injure herself by + this extraordinary energy; but her powers of body and mind seemed to rise + with the necessity for exertion; and, on this great occasion, she suddenly + discovered a warmth and strength of character, of which few had ever + before discerned even the slightest symptoms. + </p> + <p> + “Who would have expected this from Sarah?” whispered Lord Glistonbury to + Vivian. “Why, her sister did not do more for me when I was ill! I always + knew she loved her mother, but I thought it was in a quiet, commonplace + way—Who knows but she loves me too?—or might—” She came + into the room at this moment—“Sarah, my dear,” said his lordship, + “where are my letters and yesterday’s papers, which I never read?—I’ll + see if there be any thing in them that can interest your mother.” + </p> + <p> + Lord Glistonbury opened the papers, and the first article of public news + was, “a dissolution of parliament confidently expected to take place + immediately.” This must put an end to Vivian’s scheme of going to town to + attend his duty in parliament. “But, may be, it is only newspaper + information.” It was confirmed by all Lord Glistonbury and Vivian’s + private letters. A letter from his mother, which Vivian now for the first + moment had time to peruse, mentioned the dissolution of parliament as + certain; she named her authority, which could not be doubted; and, in + consequence, she had sent down supplies of wine for an election; and she + said that she would “be immediately at Castle Vivian, to keep open house + and open heart for her son. Though not furnished,” she observed, “the + castle would suit the better all the purposes of an election; and she + should not feel any inconvenience, for her own part, let the + accommodations be what they might.” + </p> + <p> + Lord Glistonbury directly proposed and insisted upon Lady Mary Vivian’s + making Glistonbury her head-quarters. Vivian objected: Lady Glistonbury’s + illness was an ostensible and, he hoped, would be a sufficient excuse for + declining the invitation. But Lord Glistonbury persisted: “Lady + Glistonbury, he was sure, would wish it—nothing would be more + agreeable to her.” His lordship’s looks appealed to Lady Sarah, but Lady + Sarah was silent; and, when her father positively required her opinion, by + adding, “Hey! Sarah?” she rather discouraged than pressed the invitation. + She said, that though she was persuaded her mother would, if she were + well, be happy to have the pleasure of seeing Lady Mary Vivian; yet she + could not, in her mother’s present situation, venture to decide how far + her health might be able to stand any election bustle. + </p> + <p> + Lady Sarah said this with a very calm voice, but blushed extremely as she + spoke; and, for the first time, Vivian thought her not absolutely plain; + and, for the first time, he thought even the formality and deliberate + coolness of her manner were not disagreeable. He liked her more, at this + moment, than he had ever imagined it possible he could like Lady Sarah + Lidhurst; but he liked her chiefly because she did not press him into her + service, but rather forwarded his earnest wish to get away from + Glistonbury. + </p> + <p> + Lord Glistonbury appealed to the physician, and asked whether company and + amusement were not “the best things possible for his patient? Lady + Glistonbury should not be left alone, surely! Her mind should be + interested and amused; and an election would be a fortunate circumstance + just at present!” + </p> + <p> + The physician qualified the assent which his lordship’s peremptory tone + seemed to demand, by saying, “that certainly moderate amusement, and + whatever interested without agitating her ladyship, would be salutary.” + His lordship then declared that he would leave it to Lady Glistonbury + herself to decide: quitting the end of the room where they were holding + their consultation, he approached her ladyship to explain the matter. But + Lady Sarah stopped him, beseeching so earnestly that no appeal might be + made to her mother, that Vivian was quite moved; and he settled the + business at once to general satisfaction, by declaring that, though + neither he nor Lady Mary Vivian could think of intruding as inmates at + present, yet that they should, as soon as Lady Glistonbury’s health would + permit, be as much at Glistonbury Castle as possible; and that the short + distance from his house would make it, he hoped, not inconvenient to his + lordship for all election business. Lord Glistonbury acceded, and Lady + Sarah appeared gratefully satisfied. His lordship, who always took the + task of explanation upon himself, now read the paragraph about the + dissolution aloud to Lady Glistonbury; informed her, that Lady Mary Vivian + was coming immediately to the country; and that they should hope to see + Lady Mary and Mr. Vivian almost every day, though he could not prevail + upon them to take up their abode during the election at Glistonbury. Lady + Glistonbury listened, and tried, and seemed to understand—bowed to + Mr. Vivian and smiled, and said she remembered he was often at Glistonbury + during the last election—that she was happy to hear she should have + the pleasure to see Lady Mary Vivian—that some people disliked <i>election + times</i>, but for her part she did not, when she was strong. Indeed, the + last election she recollected with particular pleasure—she was happy + that Lord Glistonbury’s interest was of service to Mr. Vivian. Then “she + hoped his canvass <i>to-day</i> had been successful?”—and asked some + questions that showed her mind had become confused, and that she was + confounding the past with the present. Lady Sarah and Mr. Vivian said a + few words to set her right—she looked first at one, and then at the + other, listening, and then said—“I understand—God bless you + both.” Vivian took up his hat, and looked out of the window, to see if his + carriage was at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Vivian wishes you a good morning, madam,” said Lady Sarah: “he is + going to Castle Vivian, to get things ready for Lady Mary’s arrival.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you health and happiness, sir,” said Lady Glistonbury, attempting + to rise, whilst some painful reminiscence altered her countenance. + </p> + <p> + “Pray do not stir, don’t disturb yourself, Lady Glistonbury. I shall pay + my respects to your ladyship again as soon as possible.” + </p> + <p> + “And pray bring me good news of the election, and how the poll stands + to-morrow, Mr. Vivian,” added her ladyship, as he left the room. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. + </h2> + <p> + Vivian, who had felt oppressed and almost enslaved by his compassion, + breathed more freely when he at last found himself in his carriage, + driving away from Glistonbury. His own castle, and the preparations for + his mother’s arrival, and for the expected canvass, occupied him so much + for the ensuing days, that he had scarcely time to think of Lady Julia or + of Lady Sarah, of Russell or Selina: he could neither reflect on the past, + nor anticipate the future; the present, the vulgar present, full of + upholsterers, and paper-hangers, and butlers, and grooms, and tenants, and + freeholders, and parasites, pressed upon his attention with importunate + claims. The dissolution of parliament took place. Lady Mary Vivian arrived + almost as soon as the newspaper that brought this intelligence: with her + came a new set of thoughts, all centering in the notion of her son’s + consequence in the world, and of his happiness—ideas which were too + firmly associated in her mind ever to be separated. She said that she had + regretted his having made such a long stay in the country during the last + session, because he had missed opportunities of distinguishing himself + farther in parliament. The preceding session her ladyship had received + gratifying compliments on her son’s talents, and on the figure he had <i>already</i> + made in public life; she felt her self-love as well as her affection + interested in his continuing his political career with spirit and success. + “As to the present election,” she observed, “there could be little doubt + that he would be re-elected with the assistance of the Glistonbury + interest; and,” added her ladyship, smiling significantly, “I fancy your + interest is pretty strong in that quarter. The world has given you by + turns to Lady Julia and Lady Sarah Lidhurst; and I am asked continually + which of the Lady Lidhursts you are in love with. One of these ladies + certainly must be my daughter-in-law; pray, if you know, empower me to say + which.” Lady Mary Vivian spoke but half in earnest, till the extraordinary + commotion her words created in her son, convinced her that the report had + not, now at least, been mistaken. + </p> + <p> + “Next to Miss Selina Sidney,” continued Lady Mary, “who, after her + positive and long persisted-in refusal, is quite out of the question, I + have, my dear son, always wished to see you married to one of the Lady + Lidhursts; and, of course, Lady Julia’s talents, and beauty, and youth——” + </p> + <p> + Vivian interrupted and hastily told his mother that Lady Julia Lidhurst + was as much out of the question as Miss Sidney could be; for that he had + offered himself, and had been refused; and that he had every reason to + believe that the determination of his second mistress against him would be + at least as absolute and unconquerable as that of his first. His mother + was in amazement. That her son could be refused by Lady Julia Lidhurst + appeared a moral and political impossibility, especially when the desire + for a connexion between the families had been so obvious on the side of + the Glistonburys. What could be the meaning of this? Lady Julia was + perhaps under an error, and fancied he was some way engaged to Miss + Sidney; “or, perhaps,” said Lady Mary, who had a ready wit for the + invention of delicate distresses, “perhaps there is some difficulty about + the eldest sister, Lady Sarah; for you know the first winter you were + given to her.—Ay, that must be the case. I will go to Glistonbury + to-morrow, and I will have Lady Julia to myself for five minutes: I think + I have some penetration, and I will know the truth.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Mary was again surprised, by hearing from her son that Lady Julia was + not at Glistonbury—that she was gone with her brother into + Devonshire. So there was a dead silence for some minutes, succeeded by an + exclamation from Lady Mary, “There is some grand secret here—I must + know it!” Her ladyship forthwith commenced a close and able + cross-examination, which Vivian stopped at last by declaring that he was + not at liberty to speak upon the subject: he knew, he said, that his + mother was of too honourable and generous a temper to press him farther. + His mother was perfectly honourable, but at the same time extremely + curious; and though she continually repeated, “I will not ask you another + question—I would not upon any account lead you to say a syllable + that could betray any confidence reposed in you, my dear son;” yet she + indulged herself in a variety of ingenious conjectures: “I know it is so;” + or, “I am sure that I have guessed now, but I don’t ask you to tell me.—You + do right to deny it.”—Amongst the variety of her conjectures, Lady + Mary did not find out the truth; she was prepossessed by the idea that + Russell was attached to Selina Sidney—a secret which her own + penetration had discovered whilst her son was abroad with Mrs. Wharton, + and which she thought no mortal living knew but herself. Pre-occupied with + this notion, Russell was now omitted in all her combinations. His having + quitted Glistonbury did not create any suspicion of the real cause of his + sudden departure, because there was a sufficient reason for his going to + the north to see his sick relation; and Lady Mary was too good a + philosopher to assign two causes for the same event, when she had found + one that was adequate to the production of the effect. She therefore + quietly settled it in her imagination, that Lady Julia Lidhurst was going + to be married immediately to a certain young nobleman, who had been lately + at Glistonbury whilst they were acting plays. The next day she went with + Vivian to Glistonbury Castle; for, waiving all the ceremonials of + visiting, she was anxious to see poor Lady Glistonbury, of whose illness + she had been apprised, in general terms, by her son. An impulse of + curiosity, mixed perhaps with motives of regard for her good friend Lady + Glistonbury, hastened this visit. They found Lady Glistonbury much better; + she looked nearly as well as she had done before this stroke; and she had + now recovered her memory, and the full use of her understanding. Vivian + observed, that she and Lady Sarah were both convinced, by Lady Mary + Vivian’s curiosity, that he had given no hint of any thing which they did + not wish to be known: and the pleasurable consciousness of his integrity + disposed him to be pleased with them. Lord Glistonbury, on his side, was + convinced that Vivian had behaved honourably with respect to his daughter + Julia; so all parties were well satisfied with each other. His lordship + answered Lady Mary Vivian’s inquiries after his son and his daughter Julia + by saying, that Miss Strictland had just returned to Glistonbury with + rather more favourable accounts of Lord Lidhurst’s health, and that Julia + and he were now at his brother the Bishop of ——‘s. Between + this brother and my Lord Glistonbury there had never been any great + intimacy, their characters and their politics being very different. The + moment Lady Mary Vivian heard Lord Glistonbury pronounce, with such + unusual cordiality, the words, “my brother the bishop,” she recollected + that the bishop had a very amiable, accomplished, and remarkably handsome + son; so she arranged directly in her imagination that this was the person + to whom Lady Julia was engaged. Being now thoroughly convinced that this + last conjecture was just, she thought no more about Lady Julia’s affairs; + but turned her attention to Lady Sarah, whose cold and guarded manners, + however, resisted her utmost penetration. Disappointed in all her attempts + to lead to sentiment or love, the conversation at last ran wholly upon the + approaching election, upon the canvass, and the strength of the various + interests of the county; on all which subjects Lady Sarah showed + surprisingly exact information. Presently Lord Glistonbury took Vivian + with him to his study to examine some poll-book, and then put into his + hands a letter from Lady Julia Lidhurst, which had been enclosed in one to + himself. + </p> + <p> + “I told you that I intended to <i>rusticate</i> Julia,” said his lordship, + “with a poor parson and his wife—relations, distant relations of + ours in Devonshire; but this plan has been defeated by my foolish good + brother the bishop. On their journey they passed close by his palace; I + charged Miss Strictland to be incog.; but they stayed to rest in the town, + for Lidhurst was fatigued; and some of the bishop’s people found them out, + and the bishop sent for them, and at last came himself. He was so sorry + for Lidhurst’s illness, and, as Miss Strictland says, so much charmed with + Julia, whom he had not seen since she was a child, that he absolutely took + possession of them; and Julia has made her party good with him, for he + writes me word he cannot part with her; that I must allow her to remain + with him; and that they will take all possible care of Lyndhurst’s health. + I believe I must yield this point to the bishop; for altogether it looks + better that Julia should be at the palace than at the parsonage; and, + though my poor brother has not the knowledge of the world one could wish, + or that is necessary to bring this romantic girl back to reason, yet—But + I keep you from reading your letter, and I see you are impatient—Hey?—very + natural!—but, I am afraid, all in vain—I’ll leave you in + peace. At any rate,” added Lord Glistonbury, “you know I have always stood + your firm friend in this business; and you know I’m discreet.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian never felt so grateful for any instance of his lordship’s + friendship and discretion as for that which he gave at this moment, by + quitting the room, and leaving him in peace to read his letter. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. + </h2> + <p> + “Before you open this letter, you will have heard, probably, that my + uncle, the Bishop of ——, has taken me under his protection. I + cannot sufficiently regret that I was not a few years, a few months, + sooner, blessed with such a Mentor. I never, till now, knew how much power + kindness has to touch the mind in the moment of distress; nor did I ever, + till now, feel how deeply the eloquence of true piety sinks into the + heart. This excellent friend will, I hope, in time restore me to my better + self. From the abstraction, the selfishness of passion, I think I am + already somewhat recovered. After being wholly absorbed by one sentiment, + I begin to feel again the influence of other motives, and to waken to the + returning sense of social duty. Among the first objects to which, in + recovering from this trance, or this fever of the soul, I have power to + turn my attention, your happiness, sir, next to that of my own nearest + relations, I find interests me most. After giving you this assurance, I + trust you will believe that, to insure the felicity, or even to restore + the health and preserve the life of any relation or friend I have upon + earth, I should not think myself justified in attempting to influence your + mind to any thing which I did not sincerely and firmly believe would be + for your permanent advantage as well as for theirs. Under the solemn faith + of this declaration, I hope that you will listen to me with patience and + confidence. From all that I have myself seen, and from all that I have + heard of your character, I am convinced that your wife should be a woman + of a disposition precisely opposite, in many respects, to mine. Your + character is liable to vary, according to the situations in which you are + placed; and is subject to sudden but transient impressions from external + circumstances. You have hitherto had a friend who has regulated the + fluctuations of your passions; now that he is separated from you, how much + will you feel the loss of his cool and steady judgment! Should you not, + therefore, in that bosom friend, a wife, look for a certain firmness and + stability of character, capable of resisting, rather than disposed to + yield, to sudden impulse; a character, not of enthusiasm, but of duty; a + mind, which, instead of increasing, by example and sympathy, any defects + of your own—pardon the expression—should correct or compensate + these by opposite qualities? And supposing that, with such sobriety and + strength of character as I have described, there should be connected a + certain slowness, formality, and coldness of manner, which might not at + first be attractive to a man of your vivacity, let not this repel you: + when once you have learned to consider this manner as the concomitant and + indication of qualities essential to your happiness, it would, I am + persuaded, become agreeable to you; especially as, on nearer observation, + you would soon discover that, beneath that external coldness, under all + that snow and ice, there is an accumulated and concentrated warmth of + affection. + </p> + <p> + “Of this, sir, you must lately have seen an example in my own family. At + the moment when my poor mother was struck with palsy, you saw my sister’s + energy; and her character, probably, then appeared to you in a new point + of view. From this burst of latent affection for a parent, you may form + some idea what the power of the passion of love would be in her soul; some + idea, I say; for I am persuaded that none but those who know her as well + as I do can form an adequate notion of the strength of attachment of which + she is capable. + </p> + <p> + “You will be surprised, perhaps, sir, to hear me reason so coolly for + others on a subject where I have acted so rashly for myself; and you may + feel no inclination to listen to the advice of one who has shown so little + prudence in her own affairs: therefore, having stated my reasons, and + suggested my conclusions, I leave you to apply them as you think proper; + and I shall only add, that the accomplishment of my wishes, on this + subject, would give me peculiar satisfaction. It would relieve my mind + from part of a weight of self-reproach. I have made both my parents + unhappy. I have reason to fear that the shock my mother received, by my + means, contributed much to her late illness. An event that would restore + my whole family to happiness must, therefore, be to me the most desirable + upon earth. I should feel immediate relief and delight, even in the hope + of contributing to it by any influence I can have over your mind. And, + independently of the pleasure and pride I should feel in securing my + sister’s happiness and yours, I should enjoy true satisfaction, sir, in + that intimate friendship with you, which only the ties of such near + relationship could permit or justify. You will accept of this assurance, + instead of the trite and insulting, because unmeaning or unsafe, offer of + friendship, which ladies sometimes make to those who have been their + lovers. + </p> + <p> + “JULIA LIDHURST. + </p> + <p> + “—— Palace:” + </p> + <p> + At the first reading of this letter, Vivian felt nothing but a renewal of + regret for having lost all chance of obtaining the affections of the + person by whom it was written: on a second perusal, he was moved by the + earnest expression of her wishes for his happiness; and the desire to + gratify her, on a point on which she was so anxious, influenced him much + more than any of her arguments. Whatever good sense the letter contained + was lost upon him; but all the sentiment operated with full force, yet not + with sufficient power to conquer the repugnance he still felt to Lady + Sarah’s person and manners. Lord Glistonbury made no inquiries concerning + the contents of his daughter Julia’s letter; but, as far as politeness + would permit, he examined Vivian’s countenance when he returned to the + drawing-room. Lady Glistonbury’s manner was as calm as usual; but the + slight shake of her head was a sufficient indication of her internal + feelings. Lady Sarah looked pale, but so perfectly composed, that Vivian + was convinced she, at least, knew nothing of her sister’s letter. So great + indeed was the outward composure, and so immoveable was Lady Sarah, that + it provoked Lady Mary past endurance; and as they drove home in the + evening, she exclaimed, “I never saw such a young woman as Lady Sarah + Lidhurst! She is a stick, a stone, a statue—she has completely + satisfied my mind on one point. I own that when I found Lady Julia was out + of the question, I did begin to think and wish that Lady Sarah might be my + daughter-in-law, because she has really been so carefully brought up, and + the connexion with the Glistonbury family is so desirable: then I had a + notion, before I saw her this morning, that the girl liked you, and might + be really capable of attachment; but now, indeed, I am convinced of the + folly of that notion. She has no feeling—none upon earth—scarcely + common sense! She thinks of nothing but how she holds her elbows. The + formality and importance with which she went on cutting off ends of + worsted from that frightful tapestry work, whilst I talked of you, quite + put me out of all manner of patience. She has no feeling—none upon + earth!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, ma’am,” said Vivian, “you do her injustice: she certainly has feeling—for + her mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, for her mother, may be! a kind of mechanical affection!” + </p> + <p> + “But, ma’am, if you had seen her at the time that her mother was struck + with palsy!” + </p> + <p> + Much to his own surprise, Vivian found himself engaged in a defence, and + almost in an eulogium upon Lady Sarah; but the injustice of his mother’s + attack, on this point, was, he knew, so great, that he could not join in + Lady Mary’s invective. + </p> + <p> + “Why, my dear Charles!” said she, “do you recollect, on this very road, as + we were returning from Glistonbury Castle, this time two years, you called + Lady Sarah a petrifaction?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma’am; because I did not know her then.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear, I must have time to analyze her more carefully, and I + suppose I shall discover, as you have done, that she is not a + petrifaction. So, then, Lady Sarah really is to be the woman after all. I + am content, but I absolutely cannot pretend to like her—I like the + connexion, however; and the rest is your affair.—You haven’t + proposed yet?” + </p> + <p> + “Bless me! no, ma’am! God forbid! How fast your imagination goes, my dear + mother!—Is there no difference between saying, that a woman is not a + petrifaction, and being in love with her?” + </p> + <p> + “In love! I never said a word about being in love—I know that’s + impossible—I asked only if you had proposed for her?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear ma’am, no!” + </p> + <p> + Lady Mary expressed her satisfaction; and, perhaps, the injustice with + which she continued, for some days, to asperse Lady Sarah Lidhurst, as + being unfeeling, served her more, in Vivian’s opinion, than any other mode + in which she could have spoken of her ladyship. Still he felt glad that he + had not <i>yet proposed</i>. He had not courage either to recede or + advance; circumstances went on, and carried him along with them, without + bringing him to any decision. The business of the election proceeded; + every day Lord Glistonbury was with him, or he was at Glistonbury Castle; + every hour he saw more plainly the expectations that were formed: + sometimes he felt that he was inevitably doomed to fulfil these, and at + other times he cherished the hope that Lady Julia would soon return home, + and that, by some fortunate revolution, she might yet be his. He had not + now the advantage of Russell’s firmness to support him in this emergency. + Russell’s answer to his letter was so coolly determined, and he so + absolutely declined interfering farther in his affairs, that Vivian saw no + hopes of regaining his friendship, or of benefiting by his counsels. Thus + was Vivian in all the helplessness and all the horrors of indecision, when + an event took place, which materially changed the face of affairs in the + Glistonbury family. Just at the time when the accounts of his health were + the most favourable, and when his friends were deceived by the most + sanguine hopes of his recovery, Lord Lidhurst died. His mother was the + only person in the family who was prepared for this catastrophe: they + dreaded to communicate the intelligence to her, lest it should bring on + another attack of her dreadful malady; but to their astonishment, she + heard it with calm resignation,—said she had long foreseen this + calamity, and that she submitted to the will of Heaven. After pity for the + parents who lost this amiable and promising young man, heir to this large + fortune and to this splendid title, people began to consider what change + would be made in the condition of the rest of the family. The Lady + Lidhursts, from <i>being very small fortunes</i>, became heiresses to a + large estate. The earldom of Glistonbury was to devolve to a nephew of + Lord Glistonbury, in case the Lady Lidhursts should not marry, or should + not have heirs male; but, in case they should marry, the title was to go + to the first son. All these circumstances were of course soon known and + talked of in the neighbourhood; and many congratulated Vivian upon the + great accession of fortune, and upon the high expectations of the lady to + whom they supposed him engaged. + </p> + <p> + On the first visit which Vivian and his mother paid after the death of + Lord Lidhurst at Glistonbury Castle, they found there a young man very + handsome, but of a dark, reserved countenance, whose physiognomy and + manner immediately prepossessed them against him; on his part, he seemed + to eye them with suspicion, and to be particularly uneasy whenever Vivian + either mentioned the election or approached Lady Sarah. This young man was + Mr. Lidhurst, Lord Glistonbury’s nephew and heir-at-law. It was obvious, + almost at first sight, that the uncle disliked the nephew; but it was not + so easy to perceive that the nephew despised the uncle. Mr. Lidhurst, + though young, was an excellent politician; and his feelings were always + regulated by his interests. He had more abilities than Lord Glistonbury, + less vanity, but infinitely more ambition. In Lord Glistonbury, ambition + was rather affected, as an air suited to his rank, and proper to increase + his consequence: Mr. Lidhurst’s was an earnest, inordinate ambition, yet + it was cold, silent, and calculating; his pride preyed upon him inwardly, + but it never hurried him into saying or doing an extravagant thing. Those + who were not actuated solely by ambition, he always looked upon as fools, + and those who were, he considered, in general, as knaves: the one he + marked as dupes, the other as rivals. He had been at the Bishop of ——‘s, + during Lord Lidhurst’s illness, and at the time of his death. Ever since + Lady Julia’s arrival at the bishop’s, he had foreseen the probability of + this event, and had, in consequence of the long-sightedness of his views, + endeavoured to make himself agreeable to her. He found this impossible; + but was, however, easily consoled by hearing that she had resolved never + to marry; he only hoped that she would keep her resolution; and he was now + at Glistonbury Castle, in the determination to propose for his other + cousin, Lady Sarah, who would, perhaps, equally well secure to him his + objects. + </p> + <p> + “Well! my dear Vivian,” said Lord Glistonbury, drawing him aside, “how + d’ye relish my nephew, Marmaduke Lidhurst? Need not be afraid to speak the + truth, for I tell you at once that he is no particular favourite here; not + <i>en bonne odeur</i>; but that’s only between you and me. He thinks that + I don’t know that he considers me as a shallow fellow, because I haven’t + my head crammed with a parcel of statistical tables, all the fiscal and + financiering stuff which he has at his calculating fingers’ ends; but I + trust that I am almost as good a politician as he is, and I’m free to + believe, have rather more knowledge of the world— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘In men, not books, experienced was my lord’— +</pre> + <p> + Hey? Hey, Vivian? and can see through him with half an eye, I can tell + him.—Wants to get Lady Sarah—Yes, yes; but never came near us + till we lost my poor boy—he won’t win Lady Sarah either, or I’m much + mistaken. Did you observe how jealous he was of you?—Right!—right!—he + has penetration!—Stay, stay! you don’t know Marmaduke yet—don’t + know half his schemes. How his brow clouded when we were talking of the + election! I must hint to you, he has been sounding me upon that matter; he + has a great mind to stand for this county—talks of starting at the + first day of the poll. I told him it could not do, as I was engaged to + you. He answered, that of course was only a conditional promise, in case + none of my own relations stood. I fought shy, and he pressed confoundedly.—Gad! + he would put me in a very awkward predicament, if he was really to stand! + for you know what the world would say, if they saw me opposing my own + nephew, a rising young man, and not for a relation either; and Marmaduke + Lidhurst is just your deep fellow to plan such a thing and execute it, not + caring at what or whose expense. I can tell him, however, I am not a man + to be bullied out of my interest, or to be outwitted either.—Stand + firm, Vivian, my good friend, and I’ll stand by you; depend on me!—I + only wish——” Here his lordship paused. “But I cannot say more + to you now; for here is my precious heir-at-law coming to break up the + confederacy. I’ll ride over and see you to-morrow;—now, let us all + be mute before Marmaduke, our master politician, as becomes us—Hey! + Vivian? Hey?” + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding this sort of jealousy of Marmaduke, and the bravadoing + style in which Lord Glistonbury spoke of him, he spoke to him in a very + different manner: it was apparent to Vivian that his lordship was under + some awe of his nephew, and that, whilst he cherished this secret dislike, + he dreaded coming to any open rupture with a man who was, as his lordship + apprehended, so well able to make his own party good in the world. When + Marmaduke did emerge from that depth of thought in which he generally + seemed to be sunk, and when he did condescend to converse, or rather to + speak, his theme was always of persons in power, or his sarcasms against + those who never would obtain it; from any one thing he asserted, it could + never be proved, but, from all he said, it might be inferred, that he + valued human qualities and talents merely as they could, or could not, + obtain a price in the political market. The power of speaking in public, + as it is a means in England of acquiring all other species of power, he + deemed the first of Heaven’s gifts; and successful parliamentary speakers + were the only persons of whom he expressed admiration. As Vivian had + spoken, and had been listened to in the House of Commons, he was in this + respect an object of Marmaduke Lidhurst’s envy; but this envy was + mitigated by contempt for our hero’s want of perseverance in ambition. + </p> + <p> + “There is that Mr. Vivian of yours,” said he to his uncle, whilst Vivian + was gone to talk to the ladies—“you’ll find he will be but a woman’s + man, after all!—Heavens! with his fluency in public, what I would + have done by this time of day! This poor fellow has no consistency of + ambition—no great views—no reach of mind. Put him in for a + borough, and he would be just as well content as if he carried the county. + You’ll see he will, after another session or two, cut out, and retire + without a pension, and settle down into a mere honest country gentleman. + He would be no connexion to increase the consequence of your family. Lady + Sarah Lidhurst would be quite lost with such a nobody! Her ladyship, I am + convinced, has too much discrimination, and values herself too highly, to + make such a <i>missy</i> match.” + </p> + <p> + Lord Glistonbury coughed, and cleared his throat, and blew his nose, and + seemed to suffer extremely, but chiefly under the repression of his usual + loquacity. Nothing could be at once a greater proof of his respect for his + nephew’s abilities, and of his lordship’s dislike to him, than this + unnatural silence. Mr. Lidhurst’s compliments on Lady Sarah’s + discrimination seemed, however, to be premature, and unmerited; for, + during the course of this day, she treated all the vast efforts of her + cousin Marmaduke’s gallantry with haughty neglect, and showed, what she + had never before suffered to be visible in her manner, a marked preference + for Mr. Vivian’s conversation. The sort of emulation which Mr. Lidhurst’s + rivalship produced increased the value of the object; she, for whom there + was a contention, immediately became a prize. Vivian was both provoked and + amused by the alternate contempt and jealousy which Mr. Lidhurst betrayed; + this gentleman’s desire to keep him out of the Glistonbury family, and to + supplant him in Lady Sarah’s favour, piqued him to prove his influence, + and determined him to maintain his ground. Insensibly, Vivian’s attentions + to the lady became more vivacious; and he was vain of showing the ease, + taste, and elegance of his gallantry; and he was flattered by the idea, + that all the spectators perceived both its superiority and its success. + Lady Sarah, whose manners had much improved since the departure of Miss + Strictland, was so much embellished by our hero’s attentions, that he + thought her quite charming. He had been prepared to expect fire under the + ice, but he was agreeably surprised by this sudden spring of flowers from + beneath the snow. The carriage was at the door in the evening, and had + waited half an hour, before he was aware that it was time to depart. + </p> + <p> + “You are right, my dear son!” Lady Mary began, the r moment they were + seated in the carriage; “you are quite right, and I was quite wrong, about + Lady Sarah Lidhurst: she has feeling, indeed—strong, generous + feeling—and she shows it at the proper time: a fine, decided + character! Her manners, to-day, so easy, and her countenance so animated, + really she looked quite handsome, and I think her a charming woman.—What + changes love can make!—Well, now I am satisfied: this is what I + always wished—connexion, family, fortune, every thing; and the very + sort of character you require in a wife,—the very person, of all + others, that is suited to you!” + </p> + <p> + “If she were but a little more like her sister—or Selina Sidney <i>even!</i>” + said Vivian, with a sigh. + </p> + <p> + “That very word <i>even</i>—your saying like Selina Sidney <i>even</i>—shows + that you have not much cause for sighing: for you see how quickly the mere + fancy in these matters changes—and you may love Lady Sarah + presently, as much as you loved <i>even</i> Lady Julia.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible! ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible! Why, my dear Charles, you astonish me! for you cannot but see + the views and expectations of all the family, and of the young lady + herself; and your attentions to-day were such as could bear but one + construction.” + </p> + <p> + “Were they, ma’am? I was not aware of that at the time—that is, I + did not mean to engage myself—Good Heavens! surely I am not engaged?—You + know a man is not bound, like a woman, by a few foolish words; compliments + and gallantry are not such serious things with us men. Men never consider + themselves engaged to a woman till they make an absolute proposal.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that is a common maxim with young men of the present day, but I + consider it as dishonourable and base; and very sorry should I be to see + it adopted by my son!” cried Lady Mary indignantly. “Ask your friend Mr. + Russell’s opinion on this point: he long ago told you—I know he did—that + if you had not serious thoughts of Lady Sarah Lidhurst, you would do very + wrong, after all the reports that have gone abroad, to continue your + intimacy with the Glistonburys, and thus to deceive her and her whole + family—I only appeal to Mr. Russell;—will you ask your friend + Russell’s opinion?” + </p> + <p> + Vivian sighed again deeply for the loss of his friend Russell; but as he + could not, without touching upon Lady Julia’s affairs, explain the cause + of the coolness between him and his friend, he answered only, “that an + appeal to Mr. Russell was unnecessary when he had his mother’s opinion.” + Lady Mary’s wish for the Glistonbury <i>connexion</i> fortified her + morality at this moment, and she replied, “Then my decided opinion is, + that it would be an immoral and dishonourable action to break such a tacit + engagement as this, which you have voluntarily contracted, and which you + absolutely could not break without destroying the peace and happiness of a + whole family. Even that cold Lady Glistonbury grew quite warm to-day; and + you must see the cause.—And in Lady Glistonbury’s state of health, + who could answer for the consequences of any disappointment about her + favourite daughter, just after the loss of her son, too?” + </p> + <p> + “No more, mother, for Heaven’s sake! I see it all—I feel it all—I + must marry Lady Sarah, then.—By what fatality am I doomed, am I + forced to marry a woman whom I cannot love, whose person and manners are + peculiarly disagreeable to me, and when I’m half in love with another + woman!” + </p> + <p> + “That would be a shocking thing, indeed,” said Lady Mary, retracting, and + alarmed; for now another train of associations was wakened, and she judged + not by her worldly, but by her romantic system.—“I am sure I would + not, upon any account, urge you to act against your feelings. I would not + be responsible for such a marriage, if you are really in love with her + sister, and if Lady Sarah’s person and manners are peculiarly and + absolutely disagreeable to you. I should do a very wicked action—should + destroy my son’s happiness and morals, perhaps, by insisting on such a + marriage—Heaven forbid!” (A silence of a mile and a half long + ensued.) “But, Charles, after all I saw to-day, how can I believe that + Lady Sarah is so disagreeable to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Ma’am, she happened not to be absolutely disagreeable to me to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! well! then she may not happen to be disagreeable to you to-morrow, or + the next day, or ever again!—And, as to the fancy for her sister, + when all hope is over, you know love soon dies of itself.” + </p> + <p> + So ended the conversation.—The next morning, at an unusual hour, + Lord Glistonbury made his appearance at Castle Vivian, with an air of + great vexation and embarrassment: he endeavoured to speak of trivial + topics; but, one after another, these subjects dropped. Then Lady Mary, + who saw that he was anxious to speak to her son, soon took occasion to + withdraw, not without feeling some curiosity, and forming many + conjectures, as to the object his lordship might have in view in this + conference. + </p> + <p> + Lord Glistonbury’s countenance exhibited, in quick alternation, a look of + absolute determination and of utter indecision. At length, with abrupt + effort, he said, “Vivian, have you seen the papers to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “The newspapers?—yes!—no!—They are on the table—I + did not look at them—Is there any thing extraordinary?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, faith!—extraordinary, very extraordinary!—But it is not + here—it is not there—this is not the right paper—it is + not in your paper. That’s extraordinary, too”—(then feeling in both + pockets)—“I was a fool not to bring it with me—May be I have + it—Yes, here it is!—Not public news, but private.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian was all expectation, for he imagined that something about Lady + Julia was coming. Lord Glistonbury, who, in his commerce with public men, + had learned the art of paying in words, to gain time when in danger of a + bankruptcy of ideas, went on, stringing sentences together, without much + meaning, whilst he was collecting his thoughts and studying the + countenance of his auditor. + </p> + <p> + “You recollect my suggestions the last time I had the honour of speaking + to you on a particular subject. I confess, Mr. Lidhurst’s conduct does not + meet my ideas of propriety; but other persons are free to form what + judgment they think fit upon the occasion. I shall submit the matter to + you, Mr. Vivian, feeling myself called upon to come forward immediately to + explain it to your satisfaction; and I do not fear to commit myself, by + stating at once my sentiments, and the light in which it strikes me; for + there must be some decision shown, somehow or other, and on some side or + other.——Decision is all in all in public business, as the + great Bacon or somebody says—and nobody knows that better than + Marmaduke.” + </p> + <p> + Here his lordship grew warm, and quitting his parliamentary cant, assumed + his familiar style. + </p> + <p> + “Gad! he has stolen a march upon us—out-generalled us—but, in + my private opinion, not in the handsomest style possible—Hey, + Vivian?—Hey?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear lord, I have not heard the fact yet,” said Vivian. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! the fact is simply—Look here, he has without my encouragement + or concurrence—and, indeed, as he very well knew, contrary to my + approbation and wishes—gone, and declared himself candidate for this + county; and here’s his fine flourishing, patriotic, damned advertisement + in the paper—‘To the gentlemen, clergy, and freeholders of the + county.’——Gad! how it startled me this morning! When I first + saw it I rubbed my eyes, and could hardly believe it was Marmaduke. Though + I pique myself on knowing a man’s style at the first line, yet I could not + have believed it was his, unless I had seen his name at full length in + these great abominable characters—‘John Marmaduke Lidhurst.’—‘Glastonbury + Castle!’ too—as if I had countenanced the thing, or had promised my + support; when he knew, that but yesterday I was arguing the point with him + in my study, and told him I was engaged to you. Such an ungentlemanlike + trick!—for you know it reduces me to the dilemma of supporting a man + who is only my friend, against my nearest relation by blood, which, of + course, would have an odd and awkward appearance in the eyes of the + world!” + </p> + <p> + Vivian expressed much concern for his lordship’s difficulties; but + observed that the world would be very unjust if it blamed him, and he was + sure his lordship had too much decision of character. + </p> + <p> + “But, independently of the world,” interrupted his lordship, “even in our + own family, amongst all the Lidhursts and their remotest connexions, there + would be quite a league formed against me; and these family quarrels are + ugly affairs; for though our feudal times are done away, party clanships + have succeeded to feudal clanships; and we chiefs of parties must keep our + followers in good humour, or we are nothing in the <i>field</i>—I + should say <i>in the house</i>—Ha! ha! ha!——I laugh, but + it is a very serious business; for Marmaduke Lidhurst would be, in private + or public, an impracticable enemy. Marmaduke’s a fellow capable of + inextinguishable hatred; and he is everywhere, and knows every body, of + all the clubs, a rising young man, who is listened to, and who would make + his story credited. And then, with one’s nephew, one can’t settle these + things in <i>an honourable way</i>—these family quarrels must be + arranged amicably, not honourably; and that’s the difficulty: the laws of + honour are dead letters in these cases, and the laws of the land do not + reach these niceties of feeling.——But of the most important + fact you are still to be apprised.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” cried Vivian. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you have not yet heard Marmaduke’s master-stroke of policy!” + </p> + <p> + “No!—What is it, my lord?—I am all attention—pray + explain it to me.” + </p> + <p> + “But there’s the delicacy—there’s the difficulty!—No, no, no.—Upon + my soul, I cannot name it!” cried Lord Glistonbury. “It revolts my + feelings—all my feelings—as a man, as a gentleman, as a + father. Upon my honour, as a peer, I would speak if I could; but, for the + soul of me, I cannot.” + </p> + <p> + “You know, my dear lord,” said Vivian, “there can be no delicacies or + difficulties with me; your lordship has done me the honour to live always + on such a footing of intimacy with me, that surely there is not any thing + you cannot say to me!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, that’s true,” said Lord Glistonbury, quitting his affected air of + distress, and endeavouring to throw off his real feeling of embarrassment: + “you are right, my dear Vivian! we are certainly upon terms of such + intimacy, that I ought not to be so scrupulous. But there are certain + things, a well-born, well-bred man—in short, it would look so like—But, + in fact, I am driven to the wall, and I must defend myself as well as I + can against this nephew of mine—I know it will look like the most + horrible thing upon earth, like what I would rather be decapitated than do—I + know it will look, absolutely, as if I came here to ask you to marry my + daughter,—which, you know, is a thing no gentleman could have the + most remotely in his contemplation; but, since I am so pressed, I must + tell you the exact truth, and explain to you, however difficult, + Marmaduke’s master-stroke——he has proposed for Lady Sarah; and + has had the assurance to ask me whether there is or is not any truth in + certain reports which he is pleased to affirm have gone abroad—Heaven + knows how or why!——And he urges me—the deep dog! for his + cousin’s sake, to contradict those reports, in the only effectual manner, + by a temporary cessation of the intimate intercourse between Castle Vivian + and Glistonbury Castle, whilst Lady Sarah remains unmarried; or, if our + master politician would speak plainly, till he has married her himself.——At + any rate, I have spoken frankly, Vivian, hey? you’ll allow; and I am + entitled both to a candid interpretation of my motives, and to equal + frankness of reply.” + </p> + <p> + Whilst his lordship had been speaking, compassion, gratitude, vanity, + rivalship, honour, Lady Mary Vivian’s conversation, Lady Julia’s letter, + then again the <i>connexion</i>, the earldom in future, the present + triumph or disappointment about the election, the insolent intrusion of + Mr. Lidhurst, the cruelty of abandoning a lady who was in love with him, + the dishonour, the impossibility of receding after <i>certain reports</i>; + all these ideas, in rapid succession, pressed on Vivian’s mind: and his + decision was in consequence of the feelings and of the embarrassment of + the moment. His reply to Lord Glistonbury was a proposal for Lady Sarah, + followed by as many gallant protestations as his presence of mind could + furnish. He did not very well know what he said, nor did Lord Glistonbury + scrupulously examine whether he had the air and accent of a true lover, + nor did his lordship inquire what had become of Vivian’s late love for + Lady Julia; but, quite content that the object should be altered, the + desire the same, he relieved Vivian by exclaiming, “Come, come, all this + sort of thing Lady Sarah herself must hear; and I’ve a notion—but I + can keep a secret. You’ll return with me directly to Glistonbury. Lady + Glistonbury will be delighted to see you; and I shall be delighted to see + Marmaduke’s face, when I tell him you have actually proposed for Sarah—for + now I must tell you all. Our politician calculated upon the probability + that you would not decide, you see, to make a proposal at once, that would + justify me to the world in supporting my son-in-law against my nephew. As + to the choice of the son-in-law, Sarah settles that part of the business + herself, you know; for, when two proposals are made, both almost equally + advantageous, in the common acceptation of the word, I am too good a + father not to leave the decision to my daughter. So you see we understand + one another perfectly, and will make Marmaduke, too, understand us + perfectly, contrary to his calculations, hey, hey?——Mr. + Politician, your advertisement must be withdrawn, I opine, in the next + paper—hey, Vivian? my dear Vivian!” + </p> + <p> + With similar loquacity, Lord Glistonbury continued, in the fulness of his + heart, all the way they went together to Glistonbury Castle; which was + agreeable to Vivian, at least by saving him from all necessity of + speaking. + </p> + <p> + “So!” said Vivian to himself, “the die is cast, and I have actually + proposed for Lady Sarah Lidhurst!—Who would have expected this two + years ago?—I would not have believed it, if it had been foretold to + me even two months ago. But it is a very—a very suitable match, and + it will please the friends of both parties; and Lady Sarah is certainly + very estimable, and capable of very strong attachment; and I like her, + that is, I liked her yesterday very much—I really like her.” + </p> + <p> + Upon those mixed motives, between convenience and affection, from which, + Dr. Johnson says, most people marry, our hero commenced his courtship of + the Lady Sarah Lidhurst. As the minds of both parties on the subject are + pretty well known to our readers, it would be cruel to fatigue them with a + protracted description of the formalities of courtship. It is sufficient + to say, that my Lord Glistonbury had the satisfaction of seeing his nephew + disappointed. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. + </h2> + <p> + “And the marriage was solemnized with much pomp and magnificence, and + every demonstration of joy.” + </p> + <p> + Novelists and novel readers are usually satisfied when they arrive at this + happy catastrophe; their interest and curiosity seldom go any farther: + but, in real life, marriage is but the beginning of domestic happiness or + misery. + </p> + <p> + Soon after the celebration of Vivian’s nuptials, an event happened which + interrupted all the festivities at Glistonbury, and which changed the + bridal pomp to mourning. Lady Glistonbury, who had been much fatigued by + the multitude of wedding-visits she was obliged to receive and return, had + another stroke of the palsy, which, in a few hours, terminated fatally. + Thus, the very event which Vivian had dreaded, as the probable consequence + of his refusal to marry her daughter, was, in fact, accelerated by the + full accomplishment of her wishes. After the loss of her mother, Lady + Sarah Vivian’s whole soul seemed to be engrossed by fondness for her + husband. In public, and to all eyes but Vivian’s, her ladyship seemed much + the same person as formerly: but, in private, the affection she expressed + for him was so great, that he frequently asked himself whether this could + be the same woman, who, to the rest of the world, and in every other part + of her life, appeared so cold and inanimate. On a very few occasions her + character, before her marriage, had, “when much enforced, given out a + hasty spark, and straight was cold again;” but now she permitted the + steady flame to burn without restraint. Duty and passion had now the same + object. Before marriage, her attachment had been suppressed, even at the + hazard of her life; she had no idea that the private demonstrations of + unbounded love from a married woman to her husband could be either + blameable or dangerous: she believed it to be her duty to love her husband + as much as she possibly could.—Was not he her husband? She had been + taught that she should neither read, speak, nor think of love; and she had + been so far too much restricted on this subject, that, absolutely ignorant + and unconscious even of her danger, she now pursued her own course without + chart or compass. Her injudicious tenderness soon imposed such restraint + upon her husband, as scarcely any lover, much less any husband, could have + patiently endured. She would hardly ever suffer him to leave her. Whenever + he went out of the house, she exacted from him a promise that he would <i>be + back again</i> at a certain hour; and if he were even a few minutes later + than his appointment, he had to sustain her fond reproaches. Even though + he stayed at home all day, she was uneasy if he quitted the room where she + sat; and he, who by this time understood, through all her exterior + calmness, the symptoms of her internal agitation, saw by her countenance + that she was wretched if he seemed interested in the conversation of any + other person, especially of any other woman. + </p> + <p> + One day when Vivian, after spending the morning <i>tête-à-tête</i> with + Lady Sarah, signified to her his intention of dining abroad, she repeated + her fond request that he would be sure to come home early, and that he + would tell her at what o’clock exactly she might expect to see him again. + He named an hour at hazard, to free himself from her importunate anxiety; + but he could not help saying, “Pshaw!” as he ran down stairs; an + exclamation which fortunately reached only the ears of a groom, who was + thinking of nothing but the tops of his own boots. Vivian happened to meet + some agreeable people where he dined: he was much pressed to stay to + supper; he yielded to entreaty, but he had the good-natured attention to + send home his servant, to beg that Lady Sarah and his mother would not sit + up for him. When he returned, he found all the family in bed except Lady + Sarah, who was sitting up waiting for him, with her watch in her hand. The + moment he appeared, she assailed him with tender reproaches, to which he + answered, “But why would you sit up when I begged you would not, my dear + Lady Sarah?” + </p> + <p> + She replied by a continuity of fond reproach; and among other things she + said, but without believing it to be true, “Ah! I am sure you would have + been happier if you had married my sister Julia, or <i>that</i> Miss + Sidney!” + </p> + <p> + Vivian sighed deeply; but the next instant, conscious that he had sighed, + and afraid of giving his wife pain, he endeavoured to turn the course of + her thoughts to some other subject. In vain. Poor Lady Sarah said no more, + but felt this exquisitely, and with permanent anguish. Thus her imprudence + reverted upon herself, and she suffered in proportion to her pride and to + her fondness. By such slight circumstances is the human heart alienated + from love! Struggling to be free, the restive little deity ruffles and + impairs his plumage, and seldom recovers a disposition to tranquillity. + Vivian’s good-nature had induced him for some time to submit to restraint; + but if, instead of weakly yielding to the fond importunity of his wife—if, + instead of tolerating the insipidity of her conversation and the + narrowness of her views, he had with real energy employed her capacity + upon suitable objects, he might have made her attachment the solace of his + life. Whoever possesses the heart of a woman, who has common powers of + intellect, may improve her understanding in twelve months more than could + all the masters, and lectures, and courses of philosophy, and abridgments, + and <i>documenting</i> in the universe. But Vivian had not sufficient + resolution for such an undertaking: he thought only of avoiding to give or + to feel present pain; and the consequences were, that the evils he dreaded + every day increased. + </p> + <p> + Vivian’s mother saw the progress of conjugal discontent with anguish and + remorse. + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” said she to herself, “I was much to blame for pressing this match. + My son told me he could never love Lady Sarah Lidhurst. It would have been + better far to have broken off a marriage at the church-door than to have + forced the completion of such an ill-assorted union. My poor son married + chiefly from a principle of honour; his duty and respect for my opinion + had also great weight in his decision; and I have sacrificed his happiness + to my desire that he should make what the world calls a splendid alliance. + I am the cause of all his misery; and Heaven only knows where all this + will end!” + </p> + <p> + In her paroxysm of self-reproach, and her eagerness to <i>set things to + rights</i> between her daughter-in-law and her son, she only made matters + worse. She spoke with all the warmth and frankness of her own character to + Lady Sarah, beseeching her to speak with equal openness, and to explain + the cause of the <i>alteration</i> in Vivian. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know what you mean, madam, by alteration in Mr. Vivian!” + </p> + <p> + “Is not there some disagreement between you, my dear?” + </p> + <p> + “There is no disagreement whatever, madam, as far as I know, between Mr. + Vivian and me—we agree perfectly,” said Lady Sarah. + </p> + <p> + “Well, the <i>misunderstanding</i>!” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know of any <i>misunderstanding</i>, madam. Mr. Vivian and I + understand one another perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + “The <i>coolness</i>, then—Oh! what word shall I use!—Surely, + my dear Lady Sarah, there is some <i>coolness</i>—something wrong?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure, madam, I do not complain of any coolness on Mr. Vivian’s part. + Am I to understand that he complains to your ladyship of any thing wrong + on mine? If he does, I shall think it my duty, when he points out the + particulars, to make any alteration he may desire in my conduct and + manners.” + </p> + <p> + “Complain!—My son!—He makes no <i>complaints</i>, my dear. You + misunderstand me. My son does not complain that any thing is wrong on your + part.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, madam, if no complaints are made on either side, all is as it + should be, I presume, at present; and if in future I should fail in any + point of duty, I shall hold myself obliged to your ladyship if you will + then act as my monitor.” + </p> + <p> + Hopeless of penetrating Lady Sarah’s sevenfold fence of pride, the mother + flew to her son, to try what could be done with his open and generous + mind. He expressed a most earnest and sincere wish to make his wife happy. + Conscious that he had given her exquisite pain, he endeavoured to make + atonement by the sacrifices which he thought would be most grateful to + her. He refrained often from company and conversation that was agreeable + to him, and would resign himself for hours to her society. It was + fortunate for Lady Julia Lidhurst that, by continuing with her good uncle + the bishop, she did not see the consequences of the union which she had so + strenuously advised. The advice of friends is often highly useful to + prevent an imprudent match; but it seldom happens that marriages turn out + happily which have been made from the opinion of others rather than from + the judgment and inclinations of the parties concerned; for, let the + general reasons on which the advice is grounded be ever so sensible, it is + scarcely possible that the adviser can take in all the little + circumstances of taste and temper, upon which so much of the happiness or + misery of domestic life depends. Besides, people are much more apt to + repent of having been guided by the judgment of another than of having + followed their own; and this is most likely to be the case with the + weakest minds. Strong minds can decide for themselves, not by the opinions + but by the reasons that are laid before them: weak minds are influenced + merely by opinions; and never, either before or after their decision, are + firm in abiding by the preponderating reasons. + </p> + <p> + No letters, no intelligence from home, except a malicious hint now and + then from her cousin Marmaduke, which she did not credit, gave her reason + to suspect that the pair whom she had contributed to unite were not + perfectly happy. So Lady Julia exulted in the success of her past + counsels, and indulged her generous romantic disposition in schemes for + forwarding a union between Russell and Selina, determining to divide her + fortune amongst the children of her friends. She concluded one of her + letters to Lady Sarah Vivian about this time with these words:— + </p> + <p> + “Could I but see <i>one other person</i>,—whom I must not name, + rewarded for his virtues, as you are, by happy love, I should die content, + and would write on my tomb:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Je ne fus point heureux, mais j’ai fait leur bonheur.” <a + href="#linknote-10" name="linknoteref-10" id="linknoteref-10">10</a> +</pre> + <p> + Far removed from all romance and all generosity of sentiment, Lord + Glistonbury, in the mean time, went on very comfortably, without observing + any thing that passed in his family. Whatever uneasiness obtruded upon his + attention he attributed to one cause, anxiety relative to the question on + which his present thoughts were exclusively fixed, viz. whether Lady + Sarah’s first child would be a boy or a girl. “Heaven grant a boy!” said + his lordship; “for then, you know, there’s an end of Marmaduke as + heir-at-law!” Whenever his lordship saw a cloud on the brows of Lady Mary, + of Lady Sarah, or of Vivian, he had one infallible charm for dispelling + melancholy;—he stepped up close to the patient, and whispered, “It + will be a boy!—My life upon it, it will be a boy!” Sometimes it + happened that this universal remedy, applied at random, made the patient + start or smile; and then his lordship never failed to add, with a nod of + great sagacity, “Ah! you didn’t know I knew what you were thinking of!—Well! + well! you’ll see we shall cut out Marmaduke yet.” + </p> + <p> + With this hope of cutting out Marmaduke, Lord Glistonbury went on very + happily, and every day grew fonder of the son-in-law, who was the enemy of + his heir-at-law, or whom he considered as such. The easiness of Vivian’s + temper was peculiarly agreeable to his lordship, who enjoyed the daily + pleasure of governing a man of talents which were far superior to his own. + This easiness of temper in our hero was much increased by the want of + motive and stimulus. He thought that he had now lost his chance of + happiness; he cared little for the more or less pain of each succeeding + day; and so passive was his listlessness, that to a superficial observer, + like Lord Glistonbury, it looked like the good-nature of perfect content.—Poor + Vivian!—In this wreck of his happiness, one saving chance, however, + yet remained. He had still a public character; he was conscious of, having + preserved unblemished integrity as a member of the senate; and this + integrity, still more than his oratorical talents, raised him far above + most of his competitors, and preserved him not only in the opinion of + others, but in his own. When parliament met, he went to town, took a very + handsome house for Lady Sarah, determining to do all he could to oblige + and please the wife whom he could not love. Lady Sarah had complete power, + at home and abroad, of her time and her expenses: her dress, her + equipages, her servants, her whole establishment, were above Vivian’s + fortune, and equal to her ladyship’s birth and rank. She was mistress of + every thing but of his heart. The less he liked her, the more he + endeavoured to compensate for this involuntary fault, by allowing her that + absolute dominion, and that external splendour, which he thought would + gratify, and perhaps fill her mind. As for himself, he took refuge in the + House of Commons. There he forgot for a time domestic uneasiness, and was + truly animated by what so many affect—zeal for the good of his + country. He was proud to recollect, that the profligate Wharton had failed + in the attempt to laugh him out of his public virtue; he was proud that + Wharton’s prophecies of his apostasy had never been accomplished; that, as + a public! character at least, he had fulfilled the promise of his early + youth, and was still worthy of himself, and of that friend whom he had + lost. He clung to this idea, as to the only hope left him in life. + </p> + <p> + One night, in a debate on some question of importance, he made an + excellent speech, which was particularly well received by the house, + because it came from one who had an unblemished character. When Vivian + went into the coffee-room to refresh himself, after he had done speaking, + several of his acquaintance crowded round him, complimenting him upon his + success—he broke from them all! for he saw, advancing towards him + with a smile of approbation, the friend on whose approbation he set a + higher value than he did even on the applauses of the house—the + friend whose lost affection he had so long and so bitterly regretted. + Russell stretched out his hand—Vivian eagerly seized it; and, before + they had either of them spoken one word, they both understood each other + perfectly, and their reconciliation was completely effected. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Russell, as they walked out arm in arm together, “yes, it is + fit that I should forget all private resentment, in the pride and pleasure + I feel, not merely in your public success, but in your public virtue. + Talents, even the rare talent of oratory, you know, I hold cheap in + comparison with that which is so far more rare, as well as more valuable—political + integrity. The abhorrence and contempt of political profligacy, which you + have just expressed, as a member of the senate, and the consistent conduct + by which you have supported your principles, are worthy of you; and, allow + me to say, of your education.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian felt exalted in his own opinion by such praise, and by these the + warmest expressions he had ever received of Russell’s regard. He forgot + even his domestic uneasiness; and this day, the first for many months he + had spent happily, he passed with his friend. They supped together, and + related mutually all that happened since their parting. Russell told + Vivian that he had lately been agreeably surprised by the gift of a + valuable living from the Bishop of ——, Lady Julia Lidhurst’s + uncle; that the bishop, whom he had till then never seen, had written to + him in the handsomest manner, saying that he knew the obligations his + family owed to Mr. Russell; that it had been the dying request of his + nephew, Lord Lidhurst, that some token of the family esteem and gratitude + should be offered to him, to whom they owed so much; but the bishop added, + that neither family gratitude nor private friendship could have induced + him to bestow church preferments upon any but the person whose character + best entitled him to such a distinction and such a trust. + </p> + <p> + This letter, as Vivian observed, was well calculated to satisfy Russell’s + conscience and his delicacy. The conversation next turned upon Lady Julia + Lidhurst. Russell was not aware that Vivian knew more of her attachment to + him than what had been discovered the day before he left Glistonbury; and + Vivian could not help admiring the honourable and delicate manner in which + his friend spoke of her, without any air of mystery, and with the greatest + respect. He told Vivian he had heard that proposals had been lately made + to her ladyship by a gentleman of great talents and of high character; but + that she had positively declined his addresses, and had repeated her + declaration that she would never marry. Her good uncle left her, on this + point, entirely at liberty, and did not mention the proposal to Lord + Glistonbury, lest she should be exposed to any fresh difficulties. Russell + expressed much satisfaction at this part of the bishop’s conduct, as being + not only the most kind, but the most judicious, and the most likely to + dispose his niece to change her determination. He repeated his opinion + that, united to a man of sense and strength of mind, she would make a + charming and excellent wife. Vivian agreed with him; yet observed, that he + was convinced she would never marry—There he paused.—Could + Lady Julia herself have overheard the conversation which afterwards passed + between these two gentlemen, one of whom she had loved and the other of + whom she had refused, not a word would have hurt her feelings: on the + contrary, she would have been raised in her own opinion, and gratified by + the strong interest they both showed for her happiness. They regretted + only that a young woman of such talents, and of such a fine, generous + disposition, had been so injudiciously educated. + </p> + <p> + “And now, my dear Russell,” cried Vivian, “that we have finished the + chapter of Lady Julia, let us talk of Miss Sidney.”—Russell’s change + of countenance showed that it was not quite so easy for him to talk upon + this subject.—To spare him the effort, Vivian resumed, “As you are a + rich man now, my dear Russell, you will certainly marry; and I know,” + added he, smiling, “that Miss Sidney will be your wife. If ever man + deserved such a prize, you do; and I shall be the first to wish you joy.” + </p> + <p> + “Stay, my good friend,” interrupted Russell; “your kindness for me, and + your imagination, are too quick in this anticipation of my happiness.”—Russell + then told him, that he never had declared his attachment to Selina till + Vivian’s marriage had put an end to all probability of rivalship with his + friend. She had expressed high esteem for Russell, but had told him, that + she had suffered so much from a first unfortunate attachment, that she + felt averse from any new engagements. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I assure you, as you assured me just now with regard to Lady + Julia,” said Vivian, “that Miss Sidney will he prevailed upon to alter her + determination; and shall I add, that, though I should like Lady Julia the + less, I should like Selina the better, for changing her mind?”—He + went on, generously expressing sincere hopes, that his friend might obtain + Selina Sidney’s affections, and might enjoy that domestic happiness, which—Vivian + was going to say, which he had himself forfeited; but checking this + regret, he only said—“that domestic happiness, which I consider as + the summit of human felicity, and which no man can deserve better than you + do, my dear Russell.” + </p> + <p> + Russell easily guessed that poor Vivian had not attained this summit of + human felicity by his own marriage, but never adverted to any of the + conversations they had held about Lady Sarah Lidhurst; never recalled any + of Vivian’s vehement declarations concerning the absolute impossibility of + his making such a match; never evinced the least surprise at his marriage; + nor inquired how he had conquered his passion for Lady Julia. With + friendly forgetfulness, he seemed to have totally obliterated from his + mind all that it could do no good to remember. Vivian was sensible of this + delicacy, and grateful for it; but to imitate Russell’s reserve and + silence upon certain subjects required a force, a forbearance of which he + was not capable. At first he had determined not to say one word to Russell + of domestic uneasiness; but they had not been many hours together before + Vivian poured forth all his complaints, and confessed how bitterly he + repented his marriage: be declared that he had been persuaded, by the + united efforts of her family and of his mother, against his own judgment, + or, at least, against his taste and inclinations, to marry Lady Sarah. + </p> + <p> + “By whatever persuasions, or by whatever motives, your choice was + decided,” interrupted Russell, “reflect that it is decided for life; + therefore abide by it, and justify it. Above all, make yourself happy with + the means which are yet in your power, instead of wasting your mind in + unavailing regret. You are united to a woman who has every estimable + quality, as you candidly acknowledge: there are some particulars in which + she does not please your taste; but withdraw your attention from these, + and you will be happy with a wife who is so firmly attached to you. + Consider, besides, that—romance apart—love, though a + delightful passion, is not the only resource which a man of sense, virtue, + and activity may find for happiness. Your public duties, your success, and + your reputation as a public character, will—” + </p> + <p> + Russell was interrupted in this consolatory and invigorating speech, by + the entrance of a servant of Lord Glistonbury’s, who brought a note from + his lordship to Mr. Vivian, requesting to see him as soon as he could make + it convenient to come to Glistonbury House, as his lordship wanted to + speak to him on particular business of the greatest importance. Vivian was + provoked by being thus summoned away from his friend, to attend to one of + what he called Lord Glistonbury’s <i>important mysteries about nothing</i>. + Russell was engaged to go into the country the ensuing day, to take + possession of his new living; but he promised that he would see him again + soon; and, with this hope, the two friends parted. + </p> + <p> + Vivian went to Lord Glistonbury’s: he found his lordship in his study. + “Where have you been, Vivian?” exclaimed he: “I have sent messenger after + messenger to look for you, half over the town: I thought you were to have + dined with us, but you ran away, and nobody could tell where, or with + whom; and we have been waiting for you at our cabinet council here with + the utmost impatience.”—Vivian answered, that he had unexpectedly + met with his friend Russell; and was proceeding to tell his lordship how + handsomely the Bishop of——had provided for his friend; but + Lord Glistonbury, like many other great men, having the habit of + forgetting all the services of those from whom they have nothing more to + expect, cut short Vivian’s narration, by exclaiming, “True, true! well, + well! that’s all over now—Certainly, <i>that</i> Russell did his + duty by my poor son; and acted as he ought to do—in all things; and + I’m glad to hear my brother has given him a good living; and I hope, as + you say, he will soon be married—so best—so best, you know, + Vivian, for reasons of our own—Well! well! I’m glad he is provided + for—not but what that living would have been of essential service, + if it had been reserved for a friend of mine—but my brother the + bishop never can enter into any political views—might as well not + have a brother a bishop—But, however, Mr. Russell’s a friend of + yours—I am not regretting—not so rude to you to regret——on + the contrary, rejoice, particularly as Mr. Russell is a man of so much + merit—But all that’s over now; and I want to talk to you upon quite + another matter. You know I have always said I should, sooner or later, + succeed in my grand object, hey, Vivian?” + </p> + <p> + “Your lordship’s grand object?—I am not sure that I know it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, surely, you know my grand object. You my son-in-law, and forget my + grand object?—The marquisate, you know; the marquisate, the + marquisate! Did not I always tell you that I would make government, sooner + or later, change my earldom into a marquisate? Well! the thing is done—that + is, as good as done; they have sent to treat with me upon my own terms.” + </p> + <p> + “I give you joy, my dear lord!” said Vivian. + </p> + <p> + “Joy!—to be sure you do, my sober sir:—one would think you had + no concern or interest in the business. Joy! to be sure you give me joy; + but, I can tell you, you must give me something more than joy—you + must give me support.” + </p> + <p> + “How he looks!” continued Lord Glistonbury, “as if he did not know what is + meant by support. Vivian, did you never hear of parliamentary support?” + </p> + <p> + “I hope, my dear lord,” replied Vivian, gravely, “that you have not + entered into any engagements, or made any promises for me, which I cannot + have it in my power to perform.” + </p> + <p> + Lord Glistonbury hesitated in some confusion; and then, forcing a look of + effrontery, in an assured tone, replied, “No. I have not made any + engagements or promises for you which you cannot perform, Vivian, I am + clear; nor any which I have not a right to expect my son-in-law will + confirm with alacrity.” + </p> + <p> + “What have you engaged?—what have you promised for me, my lord?” + said Vivian, earnestly. + </p> + <p> + “Only, my dear boy,” said Lord Glistonbury, assuming a facetious tone, + “only that you will be always one of us—And are not you one of us?—my + son-in-law?—the deuce is in it if he is not one of us!—In + short, you know, to be serious, a party must go together, that is, a + family party must go together; and, if a ministry do my business, of + course I do theirs. If I have my marquisate, they have my votes.” + </p> + <p> + “But not my vote—pardon me, my lord—my vote cannot be bartered + in this manner.” + </p> + <p> + “But, you know, Mr. Vivian, you know it is for your interest as much as + for mine; for, you know, the marquisate will probably descend, in due + course of time, to your son. So your interest is full as much concerned as + mine; and besides, let me tell you, I have not forgotten your immediate + interest: I have stipulated that you should have the valuable place which + Mr. C—— was to have had.” + </p> + <p> + All that Russell had said of public virtue was fresh in our hero’s mind. + “I thank you, my dear lord,” said he; “for I am sure this was kindly + intended; but I am not one of those persons, who in public affairs think + only of their private interest—I am not thinking of my interest. But + if a man maintains certain public measures one day, and the next, for <i>valuable + consideration</i>, supports diametrically opposite opinions and measures, + he will lose, and deserve to lose, all reputation for integrity.” + </p> + <p> + “Integrity! political integrity!” said Lord Glistonbury; “fine words, + which mean nothing. Behind the scenes, as we are now, Vivian, what use can + there be in talking in that strain?—Between you and me, you know + this is all nonsense. For who, of any party, now thinks, really and truly, + of any thing but getting power or keeping it? Power, you know, stands for + the measure of talent; and every thing else worth having is included in + that word power. I speak plainly. And as honour is merely an affair of + opinion, and opinion, again, an affair of numbers, and as there are + numbers enough to keep one in countenance in these things; really, my dear + Vivian, it is quite childish, quite boyish, smells of the lamp. To declaim + about political integrity, and all that, is not the language of a man who + knows any thing of business—any thing of the world.—But why do + I say all this?” cried Lord Glistonbury, checking himself and assuming an + air of more reserved displeasure.—“Mr. Vivian certainly knows all + this as well as I do; I know how my nephew Marmaduke, who, with all his + faults, is no fool, would interpret your present language: he would say, + as I have often heard him say, that political integrity is only a civil <i>put + off</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “Political integrity only a civil put off!” repeated Vivian, with + unfeigned astonishment. When he formerly heard similar sentiments from the + avowed profligate and hackneyed politician Mr. Wharton, he was shocked; + but to hear them repeated, as being coolly laid down by so young a man as + Mr. Lidhurst, excited so much disgust and contempt in Vivian’s mind, that + he could hardly refrain from saying more than either prudence or + politeness could justify. + </p> + <p> + “Now I am free to confess,” pursued Lord Glistonbury, “that I should think + it more candid and manly, and, I will add, more friendly, and more the + natural, open conduct of a son-in-law to a father-in-law, instead of + talking of political integrity, to have said, at once, I cannot oblige you + in this instance.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely, my lord, you cannot be in earnest?” said Vivian. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you, sir, I am in earnest,” cried his lordship, turning suddenly + in a rage, as he walked up and down the room; “I say, it would have been + more candid, more manly, more every thing,—and much more like a + son-in-law—much!—much!——I am sure, if I had known + as much as I do now, sir, you never should have been my son-in-law—never! + never!—seen Lady Sarah in her grave first!—I would!—I + would!—yes, sir—I would!——And you are the last + person upon earth I should have expected it from. But I have a nephew—I + have a nephew, and now I know the difference. No man can distinguish his + friends till he tries them.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian in vain endeavoured to appease Lord Glistonbury by assurances that + he would do any thing in his power to oblige him, except what he himself + considered as dishonourable: his lordship reiterated, with divers + passionate ejaculations, that if Vivian would not oblige him in this + point, on which he had set his heart—where the great object of his + life was at stake—he could never believe he had any regard for him; + and that in short, it must come to an open rupture between them, for that + he should never consider him more as his son. Having uttered this + denunciation as distinctly as passion would permit, Lord Glistonbury + retired to rest. + </p> + <p> + Vivian went immediately to his mother, to tell her what had passed, and he + felt almost secure of her approbation; but though she praised him for his + generous spirit of independence, yet it was evident the hopes that the + title of marquis might descend to a grandson of her own weighed more with + her than any patriotic considerations. She declared, that indeed she would + not, for any title, or any thing upon earth, have her son act + dishonourably; but what was asked of him, as far as she could understand, + was only such a change of party, such compliances, as every public man in + his place would make: and though she would not have him, like some she + could name, a corrupt tool of government, yet, on the other hand, it was + folly to expect that he alone could do any thing against the general tide + of corruption—that it would be madness in him to sacrifice himself + entirely, without the slightest possibility of doing any good to his + country. + </p> + <p> + Vivian interrupted her, to represent that, if each public man argued in + this manner, nothing could ever be accomplished for the public good: that, + on the contrary, if every man hoped that something might be done, even by + his individual exertion, and if he determined to sacrifice a portion of + his private interest in the attempt, perhaps much might be effected. + </p> + <p> + “Very likely!” Lady Mary said. She confessed she knew little of politics: + so from argument she went to persuasion and entreaties. She conjured him + not to quarrel with the Glistonburys, and not to provoke Lord + Glistonbury’s displeasure. “I see all that artful Marmaduke’s schemes,” + said she: “he knows his uncle’s pertinacious temper; and he hopes that + your notions of patriotism will prevent you from yielding on a point, on + which his uncle has set his heart. Marmaduke will know how to take + advantage of all this, believe me!” + </p> + <p> + Vivian was shaken in his resolution by his mother’s entreaties—by + the idea of all the family quarrels that would ensue, and of all the + difficulties in which he might be involved, if he persisted in his + generous determination. + </p> + <p> + “My dear son,” resumed she, “it would be absolute madness to refuse the + place that is now offered you: only consider the situation of your affairs—consider, + I beseech you, the distress you will be in by and by, if you reject this + offer—recollect the immense demands upon you; recollect that heap of + bills for the election, and for the buildings, and all the poor workmen + about the castle! and that coachmaker too! and remember, the purchase + money of the house in town must be paid in three months. And the only + possible means by which you can get out of debt, is by accepting this + place, which would put you at ease at once, and enable you to continue in + the style of life to which you have of late been accustomed.” + </p> + <p> + “As to that, I could alter my style of life—I would do any thing,” + cried Vivian, “to pay my debts and preserve my independence. I will alter + my mode of living, and retrench decidedly and vigorously.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear son, I admire your spirit, and, if you can do this, it will + certainly be best; but I fear that when it comes to the trial, you will + not be able to persevere.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall—I shall! Believe me, mother, I have resolution enough for + this—you do me injustice,” said Vivian. + </p> + <p> + “No, my dear Charles, I do you justice; for I do not doubt your + resolution, as far as your own privations are concerned; but, consider + your wife—consider Lady Sarah—consider the luxury in which she + has always been accustomed to live, and the high sphere in which her + relations move! How her pride would be hurt by their looking down upon + her! I have no doubt Lady Sarah would do her duty, and make any sacrifices + for her husband; and if you were—I must now speak plainly—if + you were passionately fond of her—an all-for-love husband—you + could, with honour and propriety, accept of such sacrifices; but what + would retirement be <i>to</i> poor Lady Sarah, and <i>with</i> Lady + Sarah?” + </p> + <p> + Vivian told his mother that he would take a night to reconsider the matter + coolly; and, satisfied with having gained so much, she suffered him to go + home. As he was quitting his own dressing-room, he paused, to consider + whether he should consult his wife, who was, as yet, in ignorance of the + whole transaction, and who knew nothing of the deranged state of his + affairs. He did her the justice to believe that she would be willing to + live with him in retirement, and to forego all the luxuries and pride of + her rank, for the sake of her duty and of her love. He was convinced that, + in any opposition between her father’s interests and her husband’s honour, + she would strongly abide by her husband. He recollected all Lady Julia had + said of the advantage that her sister’s firmness of mind might be in + steadying his vacillating temper in any moment of trial. Here was the + first <i>great occasion</i>, since his marriage, where his wife’s strength + of mind could be of essential service to him: yet he hesitated whether he + should avail himself of this advantage; and every moment, as he approached + nearer to her apartment, he hesitated more and more; He did not, in the + first place, like to humble himself so far as to ask her counsel; then he + had not courage to confess those debts and embarrassments which he had + hitherto concealed. All that his mother had suggested about the indelicacy + of requiring or accepting great sacrifices from a woman whom, though he + esteemed, he could not love—the horror of retirement with such a + companion—the long years <i>tête-à-tête</i>—all these ideas + combined, but chiefly the apprehension of the immediate present pain of + speaking to her on a disagreeable subject, and of being obliged to hear + her speak with that formal deliberation which he detested; added to this, + the dread of her surprise, if not of her reproaches, when all his affairs + should be revealed, operated so irresistibly upon his weakness, that he + decided on the common resource—concealment. His hand was upon the + lock of his chamber-door, and he turned it cautiously and softly, lest, in + entering his apartment, he should waken Lady Sarah: but she was not + asleep. + </p> + <p> + “What can have kept you so late, Mr. Vivian?” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Business, my dear,” answered he, with some embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “May I ask what sort of business?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!—only—political business.” + </p> + <p> + “Political business!” She looked earnestly at her husband; but, as if + repressing her curiosity, she afterwards added, “our sex have nothing to + do with politics,” and, turning away from the light, she composed herself + to sleep. + </p> + <p> + “Very true, my dear,” replied Vivian—not a word more did he say: + content with this evasion of the difficulty, he thus, by his weakness, + deprived himself of the real advantage of his wife’s strength of mind. + Whilst Lady Sarah, in total ignorance of the distress of her husband, + slept in peace, he lay awake, revolving painful thoughts in the silence of + the night. All that his mother had said about the pecuniary difficulties + to which they must soon be reduced recurred with fresh force; the ideas of + the unpaid election bills, all the masons’, carpenters’, painters’, + glaziers’, and upholsterers’ bills, with “thousands yet unnamed behind,” + rose, in dreadful array, before him, and the enthusiasm of his patriotism + was appalled. With feverish reiteration, he ran over and over, in his + mind, the same circle of difficulties, continually returning to the + question, “<i>Then what can be done?</i>” Bitterly did he this night + regret the foolish expenses into which he had early in life been led. If + it were to do over again, he certainly would not turn his house into a + castle; if he had foreseen how much the expense would surpass the + estimates, assuredly nothing could have tempted him to such extravagance. + The architect, the masons, the workmen, one and all, were knaves; but, one + and all, they must be paid. Then what could he do?—And the debts + incurred by the contested elections!—contested elections are cursed + things, when the bills come to be paid; but, cursed or not, they must be + paid. Then what could he do?—The distress in which he should involve + his generous mother—the sacrifices he should require from his wife—the + family quarrels—all that Lady Sarah would suffer from them—the + <i>situation</i> of his wife. Then what could he do?—He MUST submit + to Lord Glistonbury, and take the place that was offered to him. + </p> + <p> + Vivian sighed—and turned in his bed—and sighed—and + thought—and turned—and sighed again—and the last sigh of + expiring patriotism escaped him!——To this end, to this + miserable end, must all patriotism come, which is not supported by the + seemingly inferior virtues of prudence and economy. + </p> + <p> + Poor Vivian endeavoured to comfort himself by the reflection that he + should not act from merely mercenary considerations, but that he was + compelled to yield to the solicitations of his mother and of his + father-in-law; that he was forced to sacrifice his own public opinions to + secure domestic peace, and to prevent the distress of his mother, the + misery, and perhaps danger, of his wife and child. Dereliction of + principle, in these circumstances, was something like an amiable, a + pardonable weakness. And then, see it in what light you will, as Lord + Glistonbury observed, “there are so many who will keep a patriot in + countenance now-a-days, for merely changing sides in politics. A man is + not even thought to be a man of talents till he gets something by his + talents. The bargain he makes—the price he gains—is, in most + people’s estimation, the value of the public man.” + </p> + <p> + All this Vivian said to himself to quiet his conscience; and all this, he + knew, would be <i>abundantly satisfactory</i> to the generality of people + with whom he associated; therefore, from them he could fear neither + reproach nor contempt: but he could not bear even to think of Russell—he + felt all the pangs of remorse, and agony of shame, as the idea of such a + friend came into his mind. Again he turned in his bed, and groaned aloud—so + loud, that Lady Sarah wakened, and, starting up, asked what was the + matter; but receiving no answer, she imagined that she had been in a + dream, or that her husband had spoken in his sleep. He groaned no more, + nor did he even sigh: but fatigued with thinking and with feeling, he at + last fell into a sort of slumber, which lasted till it was time to rise. + Before Vivian was dressed, Lord Glistonbury called upon him—he went + into his dressing-room. His lordship came with his best address, and most + courteous face of persuasion; he held out his hand, in a frank and cordial + manner, as he entered, begging his dear son’s pardon for the warmth and + want of temper, he was free to confess, he had shown last night; but he + was persuaded, he said, that Vivian knew his sincere regard for him, and + convinced that, in short, they should never <i>essentially</i> differ: so + that he was determined to come to talk the matter over with him when they + were both cool; and that he felt assured that Vivian, after a night’s + reflection, would always act so as to justify his preference of his + son-in-law to his nephew, hey, Vivian?—Lord Glistonbury paused for + an answer—Vivian cut himself as he was shaving, and was glad of a + moment’s reprieve; instead of answering, he only exclaimed, “Cursed razor! + cut myself!—My lord, won’t you sit down? will you do me the honour + to—” + </p> + <p> + Lord Glistonbury seated himself; and, in regular order, with his tiresome + parade of expletives, went through all the arguments that could be adduced + to prove the expediency of Vivian’s taking this place, and assisting him, + as he had taken it for granted his son-in-law would, on such an occasion. + The letters of the great and little men who had negotiated the business of + the marquisate were then produced, and an account given of all that had + passed <i>in confidence</i>; and Lord Glistonbury finished by saying that + the affair was absolutely concluded, he having passed his word and pledged + his honour for Vivian; that he would not have spoken or acted for him if + he had not felt that he was, when acting for his son-in-law, in fact + acting for himself—his second self; that there had been no time to + wait, no possibility of consulting Vivian; that the whole plan was + suggested yesterday, in two hours after the house broke up, and was + arranged in the evening; that search and inquiries had been made every + where for Vivian; but, as he could not be found, Lord Glistonbury said he + had ventured to decide for him, and, as he hoped, for his interest and for + that of the family; and the thing, now done, could not be undone: his + lordship’s word was sacred, and could not be retracted. + </p> + <p> + Vivian, in a feeble, irresolute tone, asked if there was no possibility of + his being allowed to decline the place that was offered him, and suggested + that he could take a middle course; to avoid voting against his lordship’s + wishes, he could, and he believed that he would, accept of the Chiltern + Hundreds, and go out of parliament for the session. + </p> + <p> + Lord Glistonbury remonstrated against what he termed the madness of the + scheme. + </p> + <p> + “A man like you, my dear Vivian, who have distinguished yourself so much + already in opposition, who will distinguish yourself so much more + hereafter in place and in power——” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Vivian, rising as he finished shaving himself; “no, my lord, I + shall never more distinguish myself, if I abandon the principles I believe + to be just and true. What eloquence I have—if I have any—has + arisen from my being in earnest: I shall speak ill—I shall not be + able to speak at all—when I get up against my conscience.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Lord Glistonbury, laughing, “your romantic patriotism may be + very nice in its feelings; but, believe me, it will not deprive you of the + use of your speech. Look at every one of the fine orators of our times, + and name me one, if you can, who has not spoken, and spoken equally well, + on both sides of the house; ay, and on both sides of most political + questions. Come, come, you’ll find you will get on quite as well as they + got on before you, hey?” + </p> + <p> + “You will find that I shall be of no use to you—that I shall be a + dead weight on your hands.” + </p> + <p> + “You a dead weight! you, who are formed to be—now, really, without + flattery—you know there’s no occasion for flattery between you and + me—to be the soul, and, in time, the head of a party——Stay!—I + know all you are going to say, but give me leave to judge—You know + there’s my own nephew, a very clever young man, no doubt, he is allowed to + be; and yet, you see, I make no comparison between you. I assure you I am + a judge in these matters, and you see the house has confirmed my judgment; + and, what is more—for I can keep nothing from you—if it won’t + make you too vain, and make you set too high a price upon yourself, which + will be very troublesome in the present case; but, I say, be that as it + may, I will frankly own to you, that I believe you have been of essential + service in procuring me this great favourite object of my life, the + marquisate.” + </p> + <p> + “I, my lord! impossible!—for I never took the slightest step toward + procuring it.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, you took the most effectual step, without knowing it, perhaps. + You spoke so well in opposition, that you made it the interest of ministry + to <i>muzzle you</i>; and there was no way so effectual of getting at you + as through me, I being your father-in-law and you my heir. You don’t see + the secret concatenation of these things with a glance as I do, who have + been used to them so long. And there was no way of coming to the point + with me without the marquisate—that was my <i>sine qua non</i>; and + you see I gained my point—by your means, chiefly, I am free to allow—though + Marmaduke would gladly persuade me it was by his negotiating. But I do you + justice; I did you justice, too, in more than words, when I stipulated for + that place for you, which, in fact, I knew you could not go on much longer + without. So, my dear Vivian, all this explained to our mutual + satisfaction, we have nothing more to do but to shake hands upon it and go + down stairs; for I have engaged myself and Secretary——to + breakfast with you, and he has <i>full powers</i>, and is to carry back + our <i>capitulation</i>—and,” continued Lord Glistonbury, looking + out of the window, “here’s our friend’s carriage.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my lord, it is not yet too late!” cried Vivian; “it may yet be + arranged otherwise. Is there no way—no possibility——” + </p> + <p> + A loud knock at the house door. + </p> + <p> + “I wish to Heaven, my lord!——” + </p> + <p> + “So do I wish to Heaven, with all my soul, that you would finish this + nonsense, my dear Vivian, and come down to breakfast. Come, come, come!—Hey, + hey, hey!—This is absolutely too ridiculous, and I must go, if you + don’t. Only consider a political breakfast of this nature!” + </p> + <p> + Lord Glistonbury hurried down stairs:—reluctantly, and with a heavy + heart and repugnant conscience, Vivian followed. At this instant, he + wished for Russell, to prevent what he knew would be the consequence of + this interview. But Russell was absent—the keeper of his conscience, + the supporter of his resolution, was not at hand. Woe to him who is not + the keeper of his own conscience—the supporter of his own + resolution! The result of this political breakfast was just what every + reader, who knows the world but half as well as Lord Glistonbury knew it, + has probably long since anticipated. The capitulation of the patriots of + the Glistonbury band, with Vivian at their head, was settled. Lord + Glistonbury lost no character by this transaction, for he had none to lose—he + was quite at his ease, or quite callous. But Vivian bartered, for a paltry + <i>accommodation</i> of his pecuniary difficulties, a reputation which + stood high in the public opinion—which was invaluable in his own—which + was his last stake of happiness. He knew this—he felt it with all + the anguish of exquisite but USELESS sensibility. + </p> + <p> + Lord Glistonbury and his new friend, Secretary ——, who was a + man of wit as well as a politician, rallied Vivian upon his gravity and + upon his evident depression of spirits. + </p> + <p> + “Really, my dear Vivian,” cried Lord Glistonbury, “my patience is now + exhausted, and I must not let you expose yourself here, before our friend, + as a novice—Hey! hey!—Why, will you never open your eyes, and + see the world as it is! Why! what!—Did you never read the fable of + the dog and his master’s meat?—Well! it is come to that now in + England; and he is a foolish dog, indeed, who, when he can’t save the + meat, won’t secure his share—hey?” + </p> + <p> + His lordship and the secretary laughed in concert. + </p> + <p> + “Look, how Vivian preserves his solemnity!” continued Lord Glistonbury; + “and he really looks as if he was surprised at us. My dear Vivian, it + requires all my knowledge of your <i>bonne foi</i> to believe that you are + in earnest, and not acting the part of a patriot of <i>older</i> times.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” cried the secretary, with a facetious air, “Mr. Vivian assuredly + knows, as well as we do, that— + </p> + <p> + ‘A patriot is a fool in ev’ry age, Whom all lord chamberlains allow the + stage.’ + </p> + <p> + But off the stage we lay aside heroics, or how should we ever get on?—Did + you hear, my lord,” continued the secretary, turning to Lord Glistonbury, + “that there is another blue riband fallen in to us by the death of Lord G——?” + </p> + <p> + “I had a great regard for poor Lord G——. Many applications, I + suppose, for the vacant riband?” + </p> + <p> + From the vacant riband they went on to talk over this man’s pension and + the other man’s job; and considered who was to get such and such a place + when such and such a person should resign or succeed to something better. + Then all the miserable mysteries of ministerial craft were unveiled to + Vivian’s eyes. He had read, he had heard, he had believed, that public + affairs were conducted in this manner; but he had never, till now, + actually seen it: he was really novice enough still to feel surprise at + finding that, after all the fine professions made on all sides, the main, + the only object of these politicians, was to keep their own, or to get + into the places of others. Vivian felt every moment his disgust and his + melancholy increase. “And it is with these people I have consented to act! + And am I to be hurried along by this stream of corruption to infamy and + oblivion! Then Russell—” + </p> + <p> + Vivian resolved to retract the engagement he had just made with Lord + Glistonbury and the secretary, and he waited only for a pause in their + conversation to explain himself. But, before any pause occurred, more + company came in,—the secretary hurried away, saying to Vivian, who + would have stopped him at the door, “Oh, my dear sir, every thing is + settled now, and you must be with us in the house to-night—and you + will find the whole business will go on as smoothly as possible, if + gentlemen will but act together, and strengthen the hands of government. I + beg pardon for breaking away—but so many people are waiting for me—and + any thing further we can settle when we meet in the house.” + </p> + <p> + Lord Glistonbury also refused to listen to farther explanations—said + that all was settled, and that it was impossible to make any recantations. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. + </h2> + <p> + The hour of going to the House of Commons at length arrived; Lord + Glistonbury saw that Vivian was so much out of spirits, and in such + confusion of mind, that he began to fear that our hero’s own account of + himself was just, and that he would not be able to command ideas, or even + words, when he was to speak in opposition to what he called his principles + and his conscience. “This son of mine, instead of being our great Apollo, + will be a dead weight on our hands, unless we can contrive to raise his + spirits.” + </p> + <p> + So, to raise his spirits, Lord Glistonbury accompanied him to the + coffee-room of the house, and insisted upon his taking some refreshment + before he should attempt to speak. His lordship <i>fortified</i> him with + bumper after bumper, till at last Vivian came up to the speaking point. He + took his seat in his new place in the house, and, endeavouring to brave + away the sense of shame, rose to speak. Notwithstanding the assistance of + the wine, and the example of Mr. Marmaduke Lidhurst, who spoke before him + with undaunted assurance, Vivian could scarcely get on with a hesitating, + confused, inconsistent speech, uttered in so low and indistinct a voice, + that the reporters in the gallery complained that they could not catch + this honourable member’s meaning, or that his words did not reach them. + Conscious of his failure, and still more conscious of its cause, he + retired again to the coffee-room as soon as he had finished speaking, and + again Lord Glistonbury plied him with wine, saying that he would find he + would <i>do very well in reply</i> presently. It happened that Lord + Glistonbury was called away—Vivian remained. Mr. Wharton, with a + party of his friends, entered the coffee-room. Wharton seemed much heated + both with wine and anger—he was talking eagerly to the gentlemen + with him, and he pronounced the words, “Infamous conduct!—Shabby!—Paltry + fellow!” so loud, that all the coffee-room turned to listen. Colonel S——, + a gentleman who was one of Wharton’s party, but who had a good opinion of + Vivian, at this moment took him by the arm, and, drawing him aside, + whispered, in confidence, that he was persuaded there had been some <i>mistake</i> + in the arrangements, which, as it was reported, Lord Glistonbury had just + made with the ministry, for that Mr. Wharton and many of his lordship’s + former party, complained of having been shamefully deserted. “And to break + our word and honour to our party, is a thing no gentleman <i>can</i> do. + Wharton had a direct promise from his lordship, that he never would <i>come + in</i> till he should <i>come in</i> along with him. And now it is + confidently said, that Lord Glistonbury has made his bargain for his own + marquisate, and provided only for himself, his nephew, and his + son-in-law.” + </p> + <p> + Thrown into the utmost consternation by the idea of this double forfeiture + of honour, this breach both of public and private faith, Vivian, after + thanking Colonel S—— for his friendly manner of communicating + this information, and declaring that the transaction was totally unknown + to him, begged that the colonel would do him the favour and the justice to + be present when he should require an explanation from Lord Glistonbury. To + this Colonel S—— consented, and they hastened in search of his + lordship: his lordship was not to be found; but Mr. Marmaduke Lidhurst + was, however, in the coffee-room, and upon Vivian’s referring to him, he + could not deny the truth of the charge, though he used all his powers of + circumlocution to evade giving a direct answer. The shame, the + indignation, that rapidly succeeded to each other in Vivian’s countenance, + sufficiently convinced Colonel S—— that he had no share in the + <i>private</i> part of this disgraceful transaction; and he very + handsomely assured Vivian, that he would set the matter in its true point + of view with his friends. Marmaduke soon found a pretence to withdraw—some + member was speaking in the house, whom he must hear, he said, and away he + went. + </p> + <p> + At this moment Mr. Wharton, who was walking down the room with his + friends, passed by Vivian, and, as he passed, said, + </p> + <p> + “That <i>private vices are public benefits</i>, we all know; but that + public vices are private benefits, some of us, alas! have yet to learn. + But I’d have that little, whiffling, <i>most noble and puissant prince</i> + expectant, his majesty’s <i>right trusty and entirely beloved cousin</i> + elect, know, that plain Bob Wharton is not a man to be duped and deserted + with impunity.” + </p> + <p> + “Whom does he mean?—What does he mean?” whispered some of the + bystanders. “What prince is he talking of?—Which of the princes?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! none of the princes,” replied another. “You know <i>most noble and + puissant prince</i> is the title of a marquis, and <i>our right trusty and + entirely beloved cousin</i>, the style in which the king writes to him.” + </p> + <p> + “But who is this marquis expectant?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you know?—Lord Glistonbury.” + </p> + <p> + “But some of his lordship’s friends ought to take it up, surely.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!—his son-in-law will hear you.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “There—don’t look!” + </p> + <p> + Vivian was, with reason, so much exasperated by the treacherous duplicity + of Lord Glistonbury’s conduct, that he was ill inclined to undertake his + lordship’s defence, and determined to leave it to himself, or to his + nephew; yet the whispers operated not a little upon his weakness. Wharton, + who was walking with his set up and down the room, again came within + Vivian’s hearing, and, as he passed, exclaimed, “<i>Public vice!</i> and + <i>public virtue!</i> precious, well-matched pair!” + </p> + <p> + “Who is <i>public vice</i>, and who is <i>public virtue</i>?” said one of + Wharton’s companions. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you know?” replied Wharton: “the heir-at-law and the son-in-law.” + </p> + <p> + On hearing this speech, Vivian, who knew that he was one of the persons to + whom it alluded, started forward to demand an explanation from Wharton: + but Colonel S—— held him back. “You are not called upon, by + any means, to take notice of this,” said the colonel: “Wharton did not + address himself to you, and though he might mean what he said for you, yet + he speaks under a false impression; and besides, he is not quite sober. + Leave it to me, and I will settle it all to your satisfaction before + to-morrow.” Vivian listened unwillingly and uneasily to the friendly + counsel: he was more hurt than he had ever before felt himself by any of + Wharton’s sarcasms, because there was now in them a mixture of truth; and + a man seldom feels more irritable than when he is conscious that he is + partly to blame, and apprehensive that others will think him more + blameable than he really is. His irritability was increased by the + whispers he had heard, and the looks he now perceived among the + bystanders: the voice, the opinion of numbers, the fear of what others + would think or say, operated against his better judgment. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” said Colonel S——, “let us go and see what they are + doing in the house.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian refused to stir, saying that it would be leaving the field to + Wharton. Wharton at this instant repassed; and still running the changes, + with half-intoxicated wit, upon the same ideas, reiterated, “<i>Public + vice!</i>—We all knew where <i>that</i> would end in these days—in + public honours; but none of you would believe me, when I told you where <i>public + virtue</i> would end—in private treachery!” + </p> + <p> + “That’s neat!—that’s strong!—faith, that’s home!” whispered + some one. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Wharton!” cried Vivian, going up to him, “I could not help hearing + what you said just now—did you intend it for me?” + </p> + <p> + “You heard it, it seems, sir, and that is sufficient,” replied Wharton, in + an insolent tone: “as to what I meant, I presume it is pretty evident; + but, if you think it requires any explanation, I am as ready to give as + you can be to ask it.” + </p> + <p> + “The sooner the better, then, sir,” said Vivian. The two gentlemen walked + away together, whilst the spectators exclaimed, “Very spirited indeed!—very + right!—very proper!—Vivian could do no less than call him out. + But, after all, what was the quarrel about? Which of them was to blame?” + </p> + <p> + Long before these points were settled, the challenge was given and + accepted. Colonel S——, who followed Vivian and Wharton, + endeavoured to set things to rights, by explaining that Vivian had been + deceived by Lord Glistonbury, and kept totally in the dark respecting the + negotiation for the marquisate. But Wharton, aware that by <i>taking up + the matter immediately in such a spirited way</i> he should do himself + infinite honour with his party, and with that majority of the world who + think that the greatest merit of a man is to stand to be shot at, was not + at all willing to listen to these representations. Colonel S——declared + that, were he in Mr. Wharton’s place, he should, without hesitation, make + an apology to Mr. Vivian, and publicly acknowledge that what he said in + the coffee-room was spoken under a false impression, which a plain + statement of facts had totally removed: but Wharton disdained all terms of + accommodation; his policy, pride, and desire of revenge, all conspired to + produce that air of insolent determination to fight, which, with some + people, would obtain the glorious name of COURAGE. By this sort of courage + can men of the most base and profligate characters often put themselves in + a moment upon an equal footing with men of principle and virtue! + </p> + <p> + It was settled that Mr. Wharton and Vivian should meet, at eight o’clock + the next morning, in a field near town. Colonel S—— consented + to be Vivian’s second. Russell was not yet returned—not expected + till ten the next day. + </p> + <p> + Left to his cool reflection, Vivian thought with horror of the misery into + which the event of this duel might involve all with whom he was connected, + and all who were attached to him. The affair was of course to be kept a + secret from all at Glistonbury House, where Vivian was engaged to dine + with a large ministerial party. He went home to dress, hoping to have a + quarter of an hour to himself; but, on entering his own dressing-room, he, + to his surprise and mortification, found his wife seated there, waiting + for him with a face of anxious expectation; a case of newly-set diamonds + on a table beside her. “I thought you were at your father’s, my dear: are + you not to be at Glistonbury House to-day?” said Vivian. + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied Lady Sarah. “Surely, Mr. Vivian, you know that my father + gives a political dinner, and I suppose you are to be there?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes!” cried Vivian; “I did not know what I was saying—I am to + be there, and must dress (looking at his watch), for I have no time to + spare.” + </p> + <p> + “Be that as it may, I must intrude upon your time for a few minutes,” said + Lady Sarah. + </p> + <p> + Vivian stood impatiently attentive, whilst Lady Sarah seemed to find it + difficult to begin some speech which she had prepared. + </p> + <p> + “Women, I know, have nothing to do with politics,” she began in a + constrained voice; but, suddenly quitting her air and tone of constraint, + she started up and exclaimed, “Oh, my dear, <i>dear</i> husband! what have + you done?—No, no, I cannot, will not believe it, till I hear it from + your OWN lips!” + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter, my dear Lady Sarah?—You astonish and almost + alarm me!” said Vivian, endeavouring to preserve composure of countenance. + </p> + <p> + “I will not—Heaven forbid that I should alarm you as I have been + alarmed!” said Lady Sarah, commanding her voice again to a tone of + tranquillity. “I ought, and, if I were not weak, should be convinced that + there is no reason for alarm. There has been some mistake, no doubt; and I + have been to blame for listening to idle reports. Let me, however, state + the facts. Half an hour ago, I was at Gray’s the jeweller’s, to call for + my poor mother’s diamonds, which, you know, he has reset——” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—Well!” + </p> + <p> + “And whilst I was in the shop, a party of gentlemen came in, all of them + unknown to me, and, of course, I was equally unknown to them; for they + began to speak of you in a manner in which none knowing me could venture + in my presence. They said—I cannot bear to repeat or to think of + what they said—you cannot have bartered your public reputation for a + marquisate for my father!—You cannot have done that which is + dishonourable—you cannot have deserted your party for a paltry place + for yourself!—You turn pale.—I wish, if it pleased God, that I + was this moment in my grave!” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven forbid, my dear Lady Sarah!” cried Vivian, forcing a smile, and + endeavouring to speak in a tone of raillery. “Why should you wish to be in + your grave, because your husband has just got a good warm place? Live! + live!” said he, raising her powerless hand; “for consider—as I did—and + this consideration was of no small weight with me—consider, my dear + Sarah, how much better you will live for it!” + </p> + <p> + “And you did consider me? And that <i>did</i> weigh with you?” + </p> + <p> + “—Oh, this is what I dreaded most!” cried Lady Sarah.—“When + will you know my real character? When will you have confidence in your + wife, sir? When will you know the power, the unconquered, unconquerable + power of her affection for you?” + </p> + <p> + Vivian, much struck by the strength of her expression as she uttered these + words, was a moment silent in astonishment; and then could only, in an + incoherent manner, protest, that he did know—that he had always done + justice to her character—that he believed in her affection—and + had the greatest confidence in its power. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, no!—Do not say that which I cannot credit!—You have + not confidence in the power of my affection, or you would never have done + this thing to save me pain. What pain can be so great to me as the thought + of my husband’s reputation suffering abasement?—Do you think that, + in comparison with this, I, your wife, could put the loss of a service of + plate, or house in town, or equipage, or servants, or such baubles as + these?” added she, her eyes glancing upon the diamonds; then, snatching + them up, “Take them, take them!” cried she; “they were my mother’s; and if + her spirit could look down from heaven upon us she would approve my offer—she + would command your acceptance. Then here on my knees I conjure you, my + beloved husband, take them—sell them—sell plate, furniture, + house, equipage, sell every thing rather than your honour!” + </p> + <p> + “It is sold,” said Vivian, in a voice of despair. + </p> + <p> + “Redeem it, redeem it at any price!” cried Lady Sarah. “No! I will kneel + here at your feet—you shall not raise me—till I have obtained + this promise, this justice to me, to yourself!” + </p> + <p> + “It is too late,” said Vivian, writhing in agony. + </p> + <p> + “Never too late,” cried Lady Sarah. “Give up the place.—Never too + late!—Give up the place—write this moment, and all will be + well; for your honour will be saved, and the rest is as nothing in my + eyes!” + </p> + <p> + “High-minded woman!” cried Vivian: “why did not I hear you sooner? Why did + not I avail myself of your strength of soul?” + </p> + <p> + “Use it now—hear me now—let us waste no time in words—here + is a pen and ink—write, my dearest husband! and be yourself again.” + </p> + <p> + “You waste the energy of your mind on me,” cried Vivian, breaking from + Lady Sarah, and striking his forehead violently; “I am not worthy of such + attachment! It is done—it cannot be undone: I am a weak, ruined, + dishonoured wretch!—I tell you, it CANNOT be undone!” + </p> + <p> + Lady Sarah rose, and stood in despair. Then, looking up to heaven, she was + silent for some moments. After which, approaching her husband, she said, + in an altered, calm voice, “Since it cannot be undone, I will urge you no + more. But, whether in glory or in shame, you are secure that your wife + will abide by you.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian embraced her with a tenderness which he had never before felt. + “Excellent woman! in justice to myself, I must tell you,” cried he, “that + I was deceived into this situation. I CAN say no more!” + </p> + <p> + At this moment a servant knocked at the door, bringing a message from Lord + Glistonbury, to say that all the company were assembled, and that dinner + waited for Mr. Vivian. + </p> + <p> + “You are not in a fit state to go. Shall I send an apology to my father?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! I must go,” cried Vivian, starting up, “I must go, or it will be + thought—or it will be suspected—I can’t explain it to you, my + dear; but I must go—I must <i>appear</i> to-day, and in spirits too, + if possible.” + </p> + <p> + He hurried away. A servant delivered to Lady Sarah a number of notes and + cards. The notes were notes of congratulation, from many of her + acquaintance, upon the report in circulation, that her father was + immediately to be a marquis. The cards were from people who were to be at + her assembly that night. This was one of <i>her nights</i>, which were + usually crowded. Lady Sarah’s first wish was to write apologies, and to + say that she was not well enough to see company; but, recollecting that + her husband had said, “he must <i>appear</i>, and in spirits, too, if + possible,” she thought that it might be more for their interest, and + according to his wishes, that she should see company, and that no + appearance of dejection should be discerned in his wife. She prepared + herself accordingly, and, with a heavy heart, walked through her splendid + apartments, to see whether the decorations had been properly executed. + </p> + <p> + In the mean time Vivian dined at Lord Glistonbury’s, with a large + ministerial party. As soon as he could, after dinner, Vivian got away; and + Lord Glistonbury attributed his retiring early to the awkwardness he might + feel in the company of men whom he had, till now, so violently opposed. + This his lordship thought a foolish <i>young man’s feeling,</i> which + would soon wear away. Vivian returned home, anxious to escape from crowds, + and to have some hours of leisure to pass alone; but, the moment he + entered his own house, he saw the great staircase lined with roses and + orange-trees; he found the rooms lighted up and prepared for company; and + Lady Sarah dressed, for the first time, in all her mother’s diamonds. + </p> + <p> + “Good Heavens!—Do you see company to-night?” cried he. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; for I thought, my dear, that you would wish it.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish it!—Oh! if you knew how I wish to be alone!” + </p> + <p> + “Then, as no one is yet come, I can still shut my doors, and order them to + say that I am not well enough to see company—I am sure it is true. + Shall I?” + </p> + <p> + “No, my dear, it is too late,” said Vivian: “I am afraid it is impossible + for you to do that.” + </p> + <p> + “Not impossible, if you wish it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, do as you please.” + </p> + <p> + “Which is most for your interest? I have no other pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + “You are too good to me, and I fear I shall never have it in my power to + show you any gratitude——” + </p> + <p> + “But decide which is best to be done, my dear,” said Lady Sarah. + </p> + <p> + “Why, my dear, I believe you judged rightly—see your friends, and + make the best of it: but I can appear only for a moment; I have business + of consequence—letters—papers—that must be finished + to-night; and I must go now to my study.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall not be interrupted,” said Lady Sarah: “I will exert myself as + much as possible.” + </p> + <p> + A tremendous knock at the door.—Vivian passed through the saloon, + and gained his study, where, after remaining for some time in painful + reflection, he was roused by hearing the clock strike twelve. He + recollected that he had several arrangements to make in his affairs this + night; and that it was incumbent on him to sign and execute a will, which + had been for some time in his possession, with certain blanks not yet + filled up. His wife was, by his marriage settlements, amply provided for; + but he inserted in his will some clauses which he thought would add to her + peculiar comfort, and took care to word them so that his respect and + esteem should be known hereafter to all the world; and that, if he died, + he should leave her the consolation of knowing that his last feelings for + her were those of gratitude and affection. To his mother he left all that + was in his power to contribute to the ease of her declining years—often + obliged to pause whilst he wrote, overcome by the thoughts of what her + grief would be if he died. He left his friend Russell <i>in remainder</i>, + to a considerable part of his estate; and he was just adding the bequest + of certain books, which they had read together in his better days, when + the door of the study suddenly opened, and his mother entered. + </p> + <p> + “What is all this?” cried she: “immersed in papers at such a time as + this!” + </p> + <p> + “I so hate crowded assemblies,” said Vivian, huddling his papers together, + and advancing to meet his mother. + </p> + <p> + “So do I,” said Lady Mary; “but I have been waiting with exemplary + patience where I was stationed by Lady Sarah, at the card-table, every + instant expecting your arrival, that I might have a few minutes’ + conversation with you, and inquire how matters went on at the house, and + congratulate——” + </p> + <p> + Before she had finished the word <i>congratulate</i>, she stopped short; + for she had, by this time, a full view of her son’s countenance: and she + knew that countenance so well, that it was impossible to disguise it so as + to deceive her maternal penetration. + </p> + <p> + “My dear son!” said she, “something is going wrong: I conjure you, tell me + what is the matter!”—Her eye glanced upon the parchments, and she + saw that it was a will. Vivian forced a laugh; and asked her if she had + the weakness some people felt, of disliking to see a will, or of fancying + that a man was going to die if he made his will. Then, to quiet her + apprehensions, and to put a stop to her farther inquiries, he threw aside + his papers, and returned with her to the company, where he exerted himself + to appear as gay as the occasion required. Lord Glistonbury, who had + called in for a few moments, was now playing the great man, as well as his + total want of dignity of mind and manners would permit; he was answering, + in whispers, questions about his marquisate, and sustaining with all his + might his new part of the friend of government. Every thing conspired to + strike Vivian with melancholy—yet he constrained himself so far, + that his <i>charming spirits</i> delighted all who were uninterested in + observing any but the external signs of gaiety; but his mother saw that + his vivacity was forced. She made inquiries from all the gentlemen of her + acquaintance about what had passed the preceding day both at the House of + Commons, and to-day at the dinner at Lord Glistonbury’s: but those who had + been at Lord Glistonbury’s dinner assured her that every thing had been as + amicable as could be; and his ministerial friends said that every thing + had gone on as smoothly as possible at the house: of what had passed + between Mr. Wharton and Vivian in the coffee-room <i>nobody could</i> give + her an account. Baffled, but not satisfied, the anxious mother sent to the + hotel where Mr. Russell lodged, to inquire whether he was returned to + town, and to beg to see him immediately. From him, she thought, she should + learn the truth; or, by his influence over her son, she hoped that, if + there was any danger of a quarrel, it might be in time prevented. Her + servant, however, brought word that Mr. Russell was not expected from the + country till ten o’clock the next morning; but that her note would be + given to him directly on his arrival. She applied herself next to the + study of her daughter’s countenance, whilst she asked two or three + questions, calculated to discover whether Lady Sarah was under any anxiety + about Vivian. But though Lady Sarah’s countenance exhibited not the + slightest variation under this trial, yet this tranquillity was by no + means decisively satisfactory; because, whatever might be her internal + agitation, she knew that Lady Sarah <i>could</i> maintain the same + countenance. Lady Sarah, who plainly discerned her mother’s anxious + curiosity, thought it her duty to keep her husband’s secrets; and, + imagining that she knew the whole truth, was not farther alarmed by these + hints, nor did they lead her to suspect the real state of the case. + </p> + <p> + Lady Mary was at length tolerably well satisfied, by a conversation with + her son; during the course of which she settled in her imagination that he + had only been inserting in his will a bequest to his friend Russell; and + that the depression of his spirits arose from the struggle he had had in + determining to vote against his patriotic ideas. She rose to depart; and + Vivian, as he conducted her down stairs, and put her into her carriage, + could scarcely repress his feelings; and he took so tender a leave of her, + that all her apprehensions revived; but there was a cry of “<i>Lady—somebody’s</i> + carriage!” and Lady Mary’s coachman drove on immediately, without giving + her time for one word more. After his mother’s departure, Vivian, instead + of returning to the company, went to his study, and took this opportunity + of finishing his will; but as the servants were all in attendance at + supper he could not get any body to witness it; and for this he was + obliged to wait till a very late hour, when all the company at last + departed. The rattle of carriages at length died away; and when all was + silence, just as he was about to ring for his witnesses, he heard Lady + Sarah’s step coming along the corridor towards the study: he went out + immediately to meet her, drew her arm within his affectionately, and took + two or three turns with her, up and down the empty saloon, whilst a + servant was extinguishing the lights. Vivian’s mind was so full that he + could not speak; and he was scarcely conscious that he had not spoken, + till Lady Sarah broke the silence by asking if he had finished his + business. + </p> + <p> + “No, my dear, I have more to do yet; but you will oblige me if you will go + to rest—you must be fatigued—mind and body.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>You</i> seem fatigued almost to death,” said Lady Sarah: “and cannot + you finish the remainder of your business as well to-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied Vivian; “it must be finished before to-morrow. I am bound in + duty to finish it before to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “If it is a point of duty, I have no more to say,” replied Lady Sarah; + “but,” continued she, in a tone of proud humility, “but if I might so far + intrude upon your confidence, as to inquire——” + </p> + <p> + “Make no inquiries, my dear; for I cannot answer any, even of yours,” said + Vivian. “And let me beg of you to go to rest; my mind will then be more at + ease. I cannot command my thoughts whilst I am anxious about you; and I am + anxious—more anxious than ever I was in my life—about you at + this moment. You will oblige me if you will go to rest.” + </p> + <p> + “I CANNOT rest, but I will leave you, since you desire it—I have no + idle curiosity—Good night!” + </p> + <p> + “Good night! and thank you once more, my excellent wife, for all your + kindness.” + </p> + <p> + “There cannot be a better woman!” said Vivian to himself as she retired. + “Why have I not loved her as she deserved to be loved? If I live, I will + do my utmost to make her happy—if I live, I will yet repair all. + And, if I die, she will have but little reason to deplore the loss of such + a husband.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian now executed his will—wrote several letters of business—burnt + letters and arranged papers—regretted that Russell, who was to be + his executor, was not near him—made many bitter reflections on the + past, many good resolutions for the future, in case he should survive; + then, overpowered with fatigue of mind, slept for some time, and was + awakened by the clock striking seven. By eight o’clock he was at the place + appointed—Mr. Wharton appeared a few minutes afterwards. Their + seconds having measured out the distance, they took their ground. As + Vivian had given the challenge, Wharton had the first fire. He fired—Vivian + staggered some paces back, fired his pistol into the air, and fell. The + seconds ran to his assistance, and raised him from the ground. The bullet + had entered his chest. He stretched out his hand to Mr. Wharton in token + of forgiveness, and, as soon as he could speak, desired the seconds to + remember that it was he who gave the challenge, and that he thought he + deserved to bear the blame of the quarrel. Wharton, callous as he was, + seemed struck with pity and remorse: he asked what friends Vivian would + wish to have apprised of his situation. A surgeon was in attendance. + Vivian, faint from loss of blood, just pronounced Russell’s name, and the + name of the hotel where he was to be found, adding “<i>nobody else</i>.” + Wharton rode off, undertaking to find Mr. Russell; and Vivian was carried + into a little public-house, by the orders of the surgeon, who thought that + he could not bear the motion of a carriage. Wharton met Mr. Russell, who + was coming from town. He had come to London earlier than he had intended, + and, in consequence of Lady Mary Vivian’s note, which he had received + immediately on his arrival, had made such inquiries as convinced him that + her apprehensions were just; and having discovered the place where the + parties were to meet, he had hastened thither, in hopes of preventing the + fatal event. The moment he saw Mr. Wharton he knew that he was too late. + Without asking any other question than, “Is Vivian alive?” he pressed + forwards. The surgeon, who was the next person he saw, gave him no hopes + of his friend’s recovery, but said he might last till night, or linger + perhaps for a day or two. Vivian had by this time recovered his senses and + his speech; but when Russell entered the room where he lay, he was so much + struck by the grief in his countenance that he could not recollect any one + of the many things he had to say. Russell, the firm Russell, was now quite + overcome. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my dear friend,” said Vivian; “this is the end of all your care—of + all your hopes of me!—Oh, my poor, poor mother! What will become of + her! Where can we find consolation for her!—You and Selina Sidney! + You know how fond my mother was of her—how fond she was of my mother—till + I, the cause of evil to all my friends, separated them. You must reunite + them. You must repair all. This hope—this hope of your happiness, my + beloved friend, will soothe my last moments!——How much happier + Selina will be with you than——” + </p> + <p> + Russell sobbed aloud.—“Yes, yield to your feelings, for I know how + strong they are,” said Vivian: “you, that have always felt more for me + than I have ever felt for myself! But it is well for you that my life + ends; for I have never been any thing but a torment and a disgrace to you!—And + yet I had good dispositions!—but there is no time for regret about + myself; I have others to think of, better worth thinking of.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian called for pen, ink, and paper, had himself raised in his bed, and + supported, whilst he wrote to Selina, and to his mother. + </p> + <p> + “Do not stop me,” cried he to Russell; “it is the only act of friendship—the + only thing I can do in this world now with pleasure, and let me do it.” + </p> + <p> + His notes contained nearly what he had just said to Russell—he put + them open into his friend’s hand; then, good-natured to the last, Vivian + took up his pen again, with no small difficulty, and wrote a few + affectionate words to his wife. “She <i>well</i> deserves this from me,” + said he. “Be a friend to her, Russell—when I am gone, she will, I + know, want consolation,” After Russell had assured him that he would do + all he desired, Vivian said, “I believe there is no one else in the world + who will regret my death, except, perhaps, Lady Julia Lidhurst. How + generous she was to forgive me!—Tell her, I remembered it when I was + dying!—Weakness, weakness of mind!—the cause of all my errors!——Oh, + Russell! how well you knew me from the first!—But all is over now!—My + experience can be of no use to me—Every thing swims before my eyes.——One + comfort is, I have not the blood of a fellow-creature to answer for. My + greatest error was making that profligate man my friend—he was my + ruin. I little thought, a few years ago, that I should die by his hand—but + I forgive him, as I hope to be forgiven myself! Is the clergyman who was + sent for come?—My dear Russell, this would be too severe a task for + you.—He is come? Then let me see him.” + </p> + <p> + Vivian was left for some time to his private devotions. The clergyman + afterwards summoned Russell to return:—he found his friend calmed + and resigned. Vivian stretched out his hand—thanked him once more—and + expired! + </p> + <p> + “Oh! worthy of a better fate!” thought Russell.—“With such a heart!—With + such talents!—And so young!—With only one fault of character!—Oh, + my friend! is it all over?—and all in vain?” + </p> + <p> + Vivian’s mother and widow arrived just at this moment; and Russell and + Lord Glistonbury, who followed breathless, could not stop them from + entering the apartment. The mother’s grief bordered on distraction; but it + found relief in tears and cries. Lady Sarah shed no tear, and uttered no + exclamation; but advancing, insensible of all opposition, to the bed on + which her dead husband lay, tried whether there was any pulse, any breath + left; then knelt down beside him in silent devotion. Lord Glistonbury, + striking his forehead continually, and striding up and down the room, + repeated, “I killed him!—I killed him!—I was the cause of his + death!—My victim!—My victim!—But take her away!—Take + <i>her</i> away—I cannot.—For mercy’s sake, force her away, + Mr. Russell!” + </p> + <p> + “There is no need of force,” said Lady Sarah, rising, as her father + approached; “I am going to leave my husband for ever.”——Then, + turning to Mr. Russell, she inquired if his friend had left any message or + letter for her—desired to see the letter—retired with it—still + without shedding a tear—a few hours afterwards was taken ill, and, + before night, was delivered of a dead son. + </p> + <p> + Lady Sarah survived, but has never since appeared in what is called the + WORLD. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_FOOT" id="link2H_FOOT"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + FOOTNOTES: + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + + <p> + <a name="linknote-1" id="linknote-1"> </a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 1 (<a href="#linknoteref-1">return</a>)<br /> [ It is to be regretted that + a word, used in the days of Charles II. and still intelligible in our + times, should have become obsolete; <i>viz</i>. the feminine for intriguer—an + <i>intriguess</i>. See the Life of Lord Keeper North, whose biographer, in + speaking of Lord Keeper Bridgeman, says, “And what was worst of all, his + family was no way fit for that place (of Chancellor), his lady being a + most violent INTRIGUESS in business.” + </p> + <p class="foot"> + Had Mr. Walsingham lived in Ireland, even there he might have found in the + dialect of the lower Irish both a substantive and a verb, which would have + expressed his idea. The editor once described an individual of the + Beaumont species to an Irish labourer, and asked what he would call such a + person—“I’d call her a policizer—I would say she was fond of + policizing.”] + </p> + <p class="foot"> + <br /><br /> + </p> + + <p class="foot"> + <a name="linknote-2" id="linknote-2"> </a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 2 (<a href="#linknoteref-2">return</a>)<br /> [ Life of Admiral Roddam, + Monthly Magazine.] + </p> + <p class="foot"> + <br /><br /> + </p> + + <p class="foot"> + <a name="linknote-3" id="linknote-3"> </a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 3 (<a href="#linknoteref-3">return</a>)<br /> [ This reminds us of an + expression of Charles the Second—“It is very strange, that every one + of my friends keeps a <i>tame knave</i>”—<i>Note by the Editor</i>.] + </p> + <p class="foot"> + <br /><br /> + </p> + + <p class="foot"> + <a name="linknote-4" id="linknote-4"> </a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 4 (<a href="#linknoteref-4">return</a>)<br /> [ Young wild ducks.] + </p> + <p class="foot"> + <br /><br /> + </p> + + <p class="foot"> + <a name="linknote-5" id="linknote-5"> </a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 5 (<a href="#linknoteref-5">return</a>)<br /> [ <i>Note by the Editor</i>.—It + is much to be regretted that the original papers belonging to this + correspondence, including all the notes and letters, which Mrs. Beaumont + either wrote herself, or those, still more important, which she caused to + be written by her confidential amanuensis, which would doubtless form all + together a body <i>of domestic diplomacy equally curious and useful</i>, + are irrecoverably lost to the world. After the most diligent search, the + Editor is compelled to rest under the persuasion that they must all have + been collected and committed to the flames by the too great prudence of + the principal party concerned. Had they been trusted to the discretion of + a <i>friend</i>, the public would, doubtless, long since have been + favoured with the whole.] + </p> + <p class="foot"> + <br /><br /> + </p> + + <p class="foot"> + <a name="linknote-6" id="linknote-6"> </a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 6 (<a href="#linknoteref-6">return</a>)<br /> [ See Bacon on Cunning.] + </p> + <p class="foot"> + <br /><br /> + </p> + + <p class="foot"> + <a name="linknote-7" id="linknote-7"> </a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 7 (<a href="#linknoteref-7">return</a>)<br /> [ See Annual Register, 1761, + for an entertaining account of the trial of Mr. M’Naughton.] + </p> + <p class="foot"> + <br /><br /> + </p> + + <p class="foot"> + <a name="linknote-8" id="linknote-8"> </a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 8 (<a href="#linknoteref-8">return</a>)<br /> [ Supposed to be from the pen + of Mr. Twigg, who was presented with a living in the gift of Mrs. + Beaumont.] + </p> + <p class="foot"> + <br /><br /> + </p> + + <p class="foot"> + <a name="linknote-9" id="linknote-9"> </a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 9 (<a href="#linknoteref-9">return</a>)<br /> [ Literally copied from a + family receipt-book in the author’s possession.] + </p> + <p class="foot"> + <br /><br /> + </p> + + <p class="foot"> + <a name="linknote-10" id="linknote-10"> </a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 10 (<a href="#linknoteref-10">return</a>)<br /> [ From some lines of + Delille’s, on Rousseau, concluding with the following:— + </p> + <p class="foot"> + “Malheureux! le trépas est donc ton seule asile! Ah! dans la tombe, au + moins, repose enfin tranquille! Ce beau lac, ces flots purs, ces fleurs, + ces gazons frais, Ces pâles peupliers, tout t’invite à la paix. Respire, + donc, enfin, de tes tristes chimères. Vois accourir vers toi les époux, et + les mères. Contemple les amans, qui viennent chaque jour, Verser sur ton + tombeau les larmes de l’amour! Vois ce groupe d’enfans, se jouant sous + l’ombrage, Qui de leur liberté viennent te rendre hommage; Et dis, en + contemplant ce spectacle enchanteur, <i>Je ne fus point heureux, mais j’ai + fait leur bonheur</i>.” + </p> + <p class="foot"> + Ill-fated mortal! doom’d, alas! to find The grave sole refuge from thy + restless mind. This turf, these flow’rs, this lake, this silent wave, + These poplars pale, that murmur o’er your grave, Invite repose.—Enjoy + the tranquil shore, Where vain chimeras shall torment no more. See to thy + tomb the wife and mother fly, And pour their sorrows where thy ashes lie! + Here the fond youth, and here the blushing maid, Whisper their loves to + thy congenial shade; And grateful children smiling through their tears, + Bless the loved champion of their youthful years: Then cry, triumphant, + from thy honour’d grave— <i>Joyless I lived, but joy to others gave</i>. + C.S.E.] + </p> + <p> + THE END. + </p> + +<div style='display:block;margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES AND NOVELS, VOLUME 5 (OF 10) ***</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This file should be named 9414-h.htm or 9414-h.zip</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in https://www.gutenberg.org/9/4/1/9414/</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following +the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use +of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for +copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very +easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation +of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project +Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may +do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected +by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark +license, especially commercial redistribution. +</div> + +<div style='margin:0.83em 0; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE<br /> +<span style='font-size:smaller'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE<br /> +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</span> +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person +or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the +Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when +you share it without charge with others. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country other than the United States. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work +on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: +</div> + +<blockquote> + <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> + This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most + other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions + whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms + of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online + at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you + are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws + of the country where you are located before using this eBook. + </div> +</blockquote> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg™ License. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format +other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain +Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +provided that: +</div> + +<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation.” + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ + works. + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. + </div> +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of +the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set +forth in Section 3 below. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, +Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up +to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website +and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread +public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state +visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Most people start at our website which has the main PG search +facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. +</div> + + </body> +</html> |