Juliet had passed but a short space, by the measure of time, in this new
residence, though by that of suffering and disgust it had seemed as long
as it was irksome, when, one morning, she was informed, by the
nursery-maid, that a grand breakfast was to be given, about two o'clock,
to all the first gentry in and near Brighthelmstone.
Mrs Ireton, herself, making no mention of any such purpose, issued her
usual orders for the attendance of Juliet, with her implements of
amusement; and went, at an early hour, to a light building, called the
Temple of the Sun, which overlooked the sea, from the end of the garden.
This Temple, like every place which Mrs Ireton capriciously, and even
for the shortest interval, inhabited, was now filled with materials for
recreation, which, ingeniously employed, might have whiled away a
winter; but which, from her fluctuating whims, were insufficient even
for the fleet passage of a few hours. Books, that covered three
window-seats; songs and sonatas that covered those books; various pieces
of needle-work; a billiard-table; a chess-board; a backgammon-board; a
cup and ball, &c. &c.; all, in turn, were tried; all, in turn, rejected;
and invectives the most impatient were uttered against each, as it
ceased to afford her pleasure; as if each, with living malignity, had
studied to cause her disappointment.
About noon, she took the arm of Juliet, to descend the steps of the
Temple. Upon opening the door, Ireton appeared sauntering in the garden.
Juliet vexed at his sight, which Elinor had assured her that she would
never encounter, severely felt the mortification of being seen in her
present situation, by one who had so repeatedly offended her by
injurious suspicions, and familiar impertinence.
Mrs Ireton, hastily relinquishing the arm of Juliet, from expecting
that of her son, at whose sight she was evidently surprised; now
resolved, with her most brilliant flourishes, to exhibit the new object
of her power.
'Why don't you take care of the child, Miss Ellis?' she cried aloud. 'Do
you design to let him break his neck down the stone steps? I beg your
pardon, though, for asking the question. It may be very _mal a propos_.
It may be necessary, perhaps, to some of your plans, to see a tragedy in
real life? You may have some work in agitation, that may require that
sort of study. I am sorry to have stood so unopportunely in your way:
quite ashamed, upon my word, to have prevented your taking a few hints
from the child's dislocating a limb, or two; or just fracturing his
skull. 'Twould have been a pretty melancholy sight, enough, for an
elegiac muse. I really beg your pardon, for being so uncooth, as to
think of such a trumpery circumstance as saving the child's life.'
Juliet, during this harangue, assiduously followed the young gentleman;
who, with a shout of riotous rebellion, ran down the steps, and jumping
into a parterre, selected, by his eye, the most beautiful of the flowers
for treading under his feet; and, at every representation of Juliet,
flung at her as many pinks, carnations, and geraniums, as his merciless
little fingers could grasp.
Ireton, approaching, looked smilingly on, negligently nodding, and
calling out, 'Well done, Loddard! Bravo, my little Pickle!'
Loddard, determined to merit this honourable testimony of his prowess,
continued his sport, with augmented boldness. His wantonness, however,
though rude, was childish; Juliet, therefore, though tormented, gave it
no serious resentment; but she was not equally indifferent to the more
maturely malicious insolence of Ireton, who, while he openly enjoyed the
scene, negligently said to Loddard, 'What, my boy, hast got a new
nurse?'
Mrs Ireton, having stood some time leaning upon the balustrade of the
steps which she was descending, in vain expectations of the arm of her
son, who had only slightly bowed to her, with an 'How do do, Ma'am?' to
which he waited not for an answer; now indignantly called out, 'So I am
to be left to myself, am I? In this feeble and alarming state to which I
am reduced, incapable to withstand a gust of wind, or to baffle the fall
of a leaf, I may take care of myself, may I? I am too stout to require
any attention? too robust, too obstreperous to need any help? If I fall
down, I may get up again, I suppose? If I faint, I may come to myself
again, I imagine? You will have the goodness to permit that, I presume?
I may be mistaken, to be sure, but I should presume so. Don't you hear
me, Mistress Ellis? But you are deaf, may be?--I am alarmed to the last
degree!--You are suddenly seized, perhaps with the loss of one of your
senses?'
This attack, begun for her son, though, upon his romping with the little
boy, in total disregard to its reproach, ending for Juliet, made Ireton
now, throwing back his head, to stare, with a sneering half-laugh, at
Juliet, exclaim, 'Fie, Mrs Betty! How can you leave Mrs Ireton, unaided,
in such peril? Fie, Mrs Polly, fie! Mrs.... What is your new nurse's
name, my boy?'
The boy, who never held his tongue but when he was desired to speak,
would make no answer, but by running violently after Juliet, as she
sought to escape from him; flinging flowers, leaves, grass, or whatever
he could find, at her, with boisterous shouts of laughter, and with all
his little might.
Mrs Ireton, brought nearly to good humour by the sight of the perplexity
and displeasure of Juliet, only uttered, 'Pretty dear! how playful he
is!' But when, made still more daring by this applause, the little
urchin ventured to touch the hem of her own garments, she became
suddenly sensible of his disobedience and wanton mischief, and commanded
him from her presence.
As careless of her wrath as he was ungrateful for her favour, the young
gentleman thought of nothing so little as of obedience. He jumped and,
skipped around her, in bold defiance of all authority; laughing loudly
in her face; making a thousand rude grimaces; yet screaming, as if
attacked by a murderer, when she attempted to catch him; though, the
moment that he forced himself out of her reach, hallooing his joyous
triumph in her ears, with vociferous exultation.
Juliet was ordered to take him in hand, and carry him off; an order
which, to quit the scene, she prepared with pleasure to obey: but the
young gentleman, though he pursued her with fatiguing fondness when she
sought to avoid him, now ran wildly away.
Mrs Ireton, enraged, menaced personal chastisement; but upon his darting
at Juliet, and tearing her gown, she turned abruptly aside, in the
apprehension of being called upon for reparation; and, gently saying,
'What a frisky little rogue it is!' affected to observe him no longer.
The torn robe proved a potent attraction to the little dog, who, yelping
with unmeaning fury, flew at and began gnawing it, with as much
vehemence, as if its destruction were essential to his well being.
A party of company was now announced, that begged to join Mrs Ireton in
the garden; and, tripping foremost from the advancing throng, came,
Selina.
Ireton, flapping his hat over his eyes, leisurely sauntered away. Mrs
Ireton returned to the Temple, to receive her guests with more state;
and Juliet hoping, though doubtfully, some relief and countenance, bent
forward to greet her young friend.
Selina, with a look of vivacity and pleasure, eagerly approached; but
while her hands were held out, in affectionate amity, and her eyes
invited Juliet to meet her, she stopt, as if from some sudden
recollection; and, after taking a hasty glance around her, picked a
flower from a border of the parterre, and ran back with it to present to
Lady Arramede.
Juliet, scarcely disappointed, retreated; and the party advanced in a
body. She would fain have hidden herself, but had no power; the boy,
with romping violence, forcibly detaining her, by loud shrieks, which
rent the air, when she struggled to disengage herself from his hold.
And, as every visitor, however stunned or annoyed, uttered, in
approaching him, the admiring epithets of 'Dear little creature!' 'Sweet
little love!' 'Pretty little dear!' &c. the boy, in common with children
of a larger growth, concluding praise to be approbation, flung himself
upon Juliet, with all his force; protesting that he would give her a
green gown: while all the company,--upon Mrs Ireton's appearing at an
open window of the Temple,--unanimously joined in extolling his
strength, his agility, and his spirited character.
The wearied and provoked Juliet now seriously and strenuously sought to
disengage herself from the stubborn young athletic; but he clung round
her waist, and was jumping up at her shoulders, to catch at the ribbon
of her hat, when Lady Kendover and her niece, who were the last of the
company that arrived, entered the garden.
Lady Barbara Frankland no sooner perceived Juliet, and her distress,
than, swift as the wind, breaking from her aunt, she flew forward to
give her succour; seizing the sturdy little assailant by his arms, when
unprepared to defend himself, and twisting him, adroitly, from his prey;
exclaiming, 'You spoilt little wicked creature, beg pardon of that
lovely Miss Ellis directly! this moment!'
'Ellis! Dear, if it is not Ellis!' cried Selina, now joining them. 'How
glad I am to see you, my dear Ellis! What an age it is since we met!'
Juliet, whose confidence was somewhat more than staggered in the regard
of Selina, coldly courtsied to her; while, with the warmest gratitude,
she began expressing her acknowledgements for the prompt and generous
kindness of Lady Barbara; when the boy, recovering from his surprise,
and furious at any controul, darted at her ladyship with vindictive
violence; attempting, and intending, to practise upon her the same feats
which had nearly subdued Juliet: but the situation was changed: the
exclamations were reversed; and 'O, you naughty little thing!' 'How can
you be so rude?' 'Fie, child, fie!' were echoed from mouth to mouth;
which every step bent forward to protect 'poor Lady Barbara' from the
troublesome little creature.
The boy was then seriously made over to his maid, to be new dressed;
with a promise of peaches and sugar plums if he would be so very good a
child, as to submit to the repugnant operations of his toilette, without
crying or fighting.
The butler now appeared, to announce that the breakfast was ready; and
Juliet saw confirmed, that the party had been invited and expected;
though Mrs Ireton meant to impress her with the magnificent idea, that
this was her common way of life.
The company all re-entered the house, and all without taking the
smallest notice of Juliet; Lady Barbara excepted, who affectionately
shook hands with her, and warmly regretted that she did not join the
party.
Juliet, to whom the apparent mystery of her situation offered as much
apology for others, as it brought distress to herself, went back, far
more hurt than offended to the Temple.
Hence, presently, from under one of the windows, she heard a weak, but
fretful and angry voice, morosely giving impatient reprimands to some
servant, while imperiously refusing to listen to even the most
respectful answer.
Looking from the window, she saw, and not without concern, from the
contrast to the good humour which she had herself experienced, that this
choleric reproacher was Sir Jaspar Herrington.
The nursery-maid, who came, soon afterwards, in search of some baubles,
which her young master had left in the Temple; complained that her
mistress's rich brother-in-law, Sir Jaspar, who never entered the house
but upon grand invitations, had been at his usual game of scolding, and
finding fault with all the servants, till they all wished him at
Jericho; sparing nobody but Nanny, whom the men called the Beauty. He
was so particular, when he was in his tantarums, the maid added, that he
was almost as cross as the old lady herself; except, indeed, to his
favourites, and those he could never do enough for. But he commanded
about him at such a rate, that Mrs Ireton, she was sure, would never let
him into the house, if it were not in the hope of wheedling him into
leaving the great fortune, that had fallen to him with the name of
Herrington, to the young 'Squire; though the young 'Squire was well
enough off without it; being certain of the Ireton estate, because it
was entailed upon him, if his uncle, Sir Jaspar, should die without
children.
Juliet did not hear this history of the ill temper of her generous old
beau, without chagrin; but the prating nursery-maid ceased not recording
what she called his tantarums, till the well known sound of his crutches
announced his approach, when she hastily made her exit.
With the awkward feeling of uncertain opinion, softened off,
nevertheless, by the remembrance of strong personal obligation, Juliet
presented herself at the door, to shew her intention of descending.
Occupied by the pain of labouring up the steps, he did not raise his
head, or perceive her, till he had reached the threshold of the little
building. His still brilliant eyes became then brighter, and the air of
harsh asperity which, while mounting, his countenance still retained,
from recent anger, was suddenly converted into a look of the most lively
pleasure, and perfect good humour. After touching his hat, and waving
his hand, with an old fashioned, but well bred air of gallantry, he
laughingly confessed, that he had ascended with the view of recruiting
his strength and spirits, by a private visit to the god Morpheus; to
enable him to get through the weighty enterprize, of encountering a
throng of frivolous females, without affronting them by his yawns. 'How
little,' he continued, 'did I imagine myself coming to Sleep's most
resistless conqueror, Delight! If I rouse not now, I must have more
soporiferous qualities than the Sleepers! or even than the Sleeping
Beauty in the Wood, who took a nap of forty years.'
Then entreating her to be seated, he dropt upon the easy chair, which
had been prepared for Mrs Ireton; and crossed his crutches, as if by
accident, in a manner that prevented her from retreating. She was the
less, however, impatient of this delay, as she saw that the windows
looking from the house into the garden, were filled with company, which
she desired nothing so little as to pass in review.
Taking, therefore, a place as far from him as was in her power, she made
herself an occupation, in arranging some mulberry leaves for silk-worms.
The Baronet, whose face expressed encreasing satisfaction at his
situation, courteously sought to draw her into discourse. 'My little
friends,' cried he, smiling, 'who are always at work, have continually
been tormenting me of late, with pinches and twitches, upon my utter
neglect of my sister-in-law, Mrs Ireton. I could not for my life imagine
why they took so prodigious an interest in my visiting her; but they
nipt, and squeezed, and worried me, without intermission; accusing me of
misbehaviour; saying she was my sister-in-law; and ill, and
hypochondriac; and that it was by no means pretty behaved in me, not to
shew her more respect. It was in vain I represented, that she was rich,
and did not want me; or that she was disagreeable, and that I did not
want her; 'twas all one; they insisted I should go: and this morning,
when I would have excused myself from coming to her fine breakfast, they
beset me in so many ways, that I was forced to comply. And now I see
why! Poor, earthly, mundane mortal that I was! I took them for envious
sprites, jealous of my repose! But I see, now, they were only recreative
little sylphs, amusing themselves with whipping and spurring me on to my
own good!'
And is this, thought Juliet, the man who bears a character of impatience
and ill humour? this man, whose imagination is so playful, and whose
desire to please can only be equalled by his desire to serve?
'And where,' he continued, 'have you all this time been eclipsed? From
sundry circumstances, that perversely obtruded themselves upon my
knowledge, in defiance of the ill reception I gave them, I was led, at
first, to conclude, that you had been spirited away by Sir Lyell
Sycamore.'
He fixed his eyes upon her curiously; but the colour that rose in her
cheeks betrayed no secret consciousness; it shewed open resentment.
'O! I soon saw,' he resumed, as if he had been answered, though she had
not deigned to disclaim an idea that she deemed fitted simply for
contempt; 'by the mortified silence of my young gallant, that the fates
had not been propitious to his wishes. In characters of his description,
success never courts the shade. It basks in the sun-shine, and seeks the
broadest day. How is it that you have thus piqued the vain spark? He
came to me in such a flame, to upbraid me for what he called the cursed
ridiculous dance that I had led him, that I fairly thought he meant to
call me out! I began, directly, to look about me for the stoutest of my
crutches, to parry, for a last minute or two, his broad sword; and to
deliberate which might be the thickest of my leather cushions, to hold
up in my defence, for reverberating the ball, in case he should prefer
pistols. But he deigned, most fortunately, to content himself with only
abusing me: hinting, that such superannuated old geese, as those who
had passed their grand climacteric, ought not to meddle with affairs of
which they must have lost even the memory. I let him bounce off without
any answer; very thankful to the "Sisters three" to feel myself in a
whole skin.'
Looking at her, then, with an expression of humorous reproach, 'You will
permit me, I hope, at least,' he added, 'to flatter myself, that, when
your indulgence to the garrulity of age has induced you to bear with my
loquacity till I am a little hoarser, your consideration for sore
throats and heated lungs, will prevail upon you to utter a little word
or two in your turn?'
Juliet, laughing, answered that she had been too well amused, to be
aware how little she had seemed to merit his exertions.
'Tell me, then,' cried he, with looks that spoke him enchanted by this
reply; 'through what extraordinary mechanism, in the wheel of fortune,
you have been rolled to this spot? The benevolent sprites, who have
urged me hither, have not given me a jot of information how you became
known to Mrs Ireton? By what strange spell have you been drawn in, to
seem an inmate of her mansion? and what philters and potions have you
swallowed, to make you endure her never-ending vagaries?'
Half smiling, half sighing, Juliet looked down; not willing to accept,
though hardly able to resist, the offered licence for complaint.
'Make no stranger,' the old Baronet laughingly added, 'of me, I beg! She
is my sister-in-law, to be sure; but the law, with all its subtleties,
had not yet entailed our affections, with our estates, to our relations;
nor articled our tastes, with our jointures, to our dowagers. Use,
therefore, no manner of ceremony! How do you bear with her freaks and
fancies? or rather,--for that is the essential point, why do you bear
with them?'
'Can that,' said Juliet, 'be a question?'
'Not a wise one, I confess!' he returned; 'for what but Necessity could
link together two creatures who seem formed to give a view of human
nature diametrically opposite the one from the other? These indeed must
be imps,--and imps of darkness,--who, busy, busy still--delight
To join the gentle to the rude![20]
that can have coupled so unharmonizing a pair. Hymen, with all the
little active sinister devils in his train, that yoke together, pell
mell, for life, hobbling age with bounding youth; choleric violence with
trembling timidity; haggard care with thoughtless merriment;--Hymen
himself, that marrying little lawyer, who takes upon him to unite what
is most discordant, and to tie together all that is most heterogeneous;
even he, though provided with what is, so justly, called a licence, for
binding together what nature itself seems to sunder; he, even he, I
assert, never buckled in the same noose, two beings so completely and
equally dissimilar, both without and within. Since such, however, has
been the ordinance of these fantastic workers of wonders, will you let
me ask, in what capacity it has pleased their impships to conjure you
hither?'
[Footnote 20: Thomson.]
Juliet hesitated, and looked ashamed to answer.
'You are not, I hope,' cried he, fixing upon her his keen eyes, 'one of
those ill-starred damsels, whose task, in the words of Madame de
Maintenon, is to 'amuse the unamuseable?' You are not, I hope, ...' he
stopt, as if seeking a phrase, and then, rather faintly, added, 'her
companion?'
'Her humble servant, Sir!' with a forced smile, said Juliet; 'and yet,
humbled as I feel myself in that capacity, not humble enough for its
calls!'
The smiles of the old Baronet vanished in a moment, and an expression of
extreme severity took their place. 'She uses you ill, then?' he
indignantly cried, and, grasping the knobs of his two crutches, he
struck their points against the floor, with a heaviness that made the
little building shake, ejaculating, in a hoarse inward voice, 'Curse
her!'
Juliet stared at him, affrighted by his violence.
'Can it be possible,' he cried, 'that so execrable a fate should be
reserved for so exquisite a piece of workmanship? Sweet witch! were I
but ten years younger, I would snatch you from her infernal claws!--or
rather, could I cut off twenty;--yet even then the disparity would be
too great!--thirty years younger,--or perhaps forty,--my hand and
fortune should teach that Fury her distance!'
Juliet, surprised, and doubting whether what dropt from him were escaped
sincerity, or purposed irony, looked with so serious a perplexity, that,
struck and ashamed, he checked himself; and recovering his usually
polite equanimity, smiled at his own warmth, saying, 'Don't be alarmed,
I beg! Don't imagine that I shall forget myself; nor want to hurry away,
lest my animation should be dangerous! The heat that, at
five-and-twenty, might have fired me into a fever, now raises but a
kindly glow, that stops, or keeps off stagnation. The little sprites,
who hover around me, though they often mischievously spur my poor
fruitless wishes, always take care, by seasonable twitches, in some
vulnerable gouty part, to twirl me from the regions of hope and romance,
to very sober real life!'
Fearful of appearing distrustful, Juliet looked satisfied, and again he
went on.
'Since, then, 'tis clear that there can be no danger in so simple an
intercourse, why should I not give myself the gratification of telling
you, that every sight of you does me good? renovates my spirits;
purifies my humours; sweetens my blood; and braces my nerves? Never talk
to me with mockery of fairyism, witchcraft, and sylphs; the real
influence of lovely youth, is a thousand times more wonderful, more
potent, and more incredible! When I have seen you only an instant, I
feel in charity with all mankind for the rest of the day; and, at night,
my kind little friends present you to me again; renew every pleasing
idea; revive the most delightful images; and paint you to me--just such
as I see you at this moment!'
Juliet, embarrassed, talked of returning to the house.
'Do you blush?' cried he, with quickness, and evidently increasing
admiration; 'is it possible that you are not enough habituated to
praise, to hear it without modest confusion? I have seen "full many a
lady"--but you--O you!--so perfect and so peerless are created, of every
creature best!'[21]
[Footnote 21: Shakespeare.]
'My whole life has been spent in worshipping beauty, till within these
very few years, when I have gotten something like a surfeit, and meant
to give it over. For I have watched and followed Beauties, till I have
grown sick of them. I have admired fine features, only to be disgusted
with vapid vanity. A face with a little meaning, though as ugly as sin
and satan, I have lately thought worth forty of them! But you--fair
sorceress! you have conjured me round again to my old work! I have found
the spell irresistible. You have such intelligence of countenance; such
spirit with such sweetness, smiles so delicious, though rare! looks so
speaking; grace so silent;--that I forget you are a beauty; and fasten
my eyes upon you, only to understand what you say when you don't utter a
word! That's all! Don't be uneasy, therefore, at my staring. Though, to
be candid, we know ourselves so little, that, 'tis possible, had you
not first caught my eyes as a beauty, I might never have looked at you
long enough to find out your wit!'
A footman now came to acquaint Sir Jaspar, that the rice-soup, which he
had ordered, was ready; and that the ladies were waiting for the honour
of his company to breakfast.
'I heartily wish they would wait for my company, till I desire to have
theirs!' Sir Jaspar muttered: but, sensible of the impropriety of a
refusal, arose, and, taking off his hat, with a studied formality, which
he hoped would impress the footman with respect for its object, followed
his messenger: whispering, nevertheless, as he quitted the building,
'Leave you for a breakfast!--I would almost as willingly be immersed in
the witches' cauldron, and boiled into morsels, to become a breakfast
myself, for the amusement of the audience at a theatre!'