Frank Trevelyan was so much taken aback by a sight so totally
unexpected, that his confident assurance for the moment forsook him, and
with a countenance suffused with blushes, and a perfect consciousness
all the time that he was looking like a fool, he stood stock-still
within a few paces from the door, as if uncertain whether to pluck up
sufficient courage to advance, or to turn tail and make a run of it; his
comfort all this time in nowise enhanced, by detecting the air of
triumphant satisfaction with which Mr Vernon Wycherley was witnessing
and enjoying his confusion. Fortunately, however, for Frank, the ladies
had more compassion, and by their pleasing affability of manner,
speedily relieved him from his embarrassment--so speedily indeed, that
in the course of five minutes he had not only conquered every bashful
feeling, but had acquired so great a degree of easy self-possession,
that Vernon Wycherley actually began to wonder at what he was pleased in
his own mind to style, "the little rascal's cool impudence"----But he
only thought so whilst Frank was devoting his sole attentions to the
darker beauty, with whom the young poet had already chosen to fancy
himself in love; for when, at the expiration of this five minutes, his
friend transferred his civilities to her fair sister, Mr Wycherley
returned to his original opinion, formed upon a close intimacy of
several years, which was, that friend Frank was one of the best-hearted,
good-humoured, and entertaining little fellows that ever existed.
And now, how shall we attempt to describe these lovely young creatures,
whose charms were, by this time, playing sad havoc with the hearts of Mr
Vernon Wycherley, and his friend Mr Francis Trevelyan. First, then, the
elder sister, Miss Mary.--Her features were regular, with the true
Madonna cast of countenance, beautiful when in a state of repose, but
still more lovely when lighted up by animation. Her cheek, though pale,
indicated no symptom of ill health, and her complexion was remarkably
clear, which was beautifully contrasted with her raven hair, dark eyes,
and long silken eyelashes. Her sister, who was but a year younger, owed
more of her beauty to a certain sweetness of expression it is impossible
to describe, than to perfect regularity of feature. Her eyes were
dark-blue, and her hair of a dark-golden brown; her complexion fair and
clear, and her mouth and lips the most perfect that can be conceived.
Both sisters had excellent teeth, but in other respects their features
were totally dissimilar. They were about the middle height--and their
figures faultless, which, added to a lady-like carriage and engaging
manners, untainted with affectation, rendered them perfectly
fascinating. Such was, at any rate, the opinion each of our two heroes
had formed of _her_ to whom he had been pleased to devote his
thoughts--Frank of the gentle Bessie, and Vernon of the lovely Mary--for
none but the squire before her face, and Timothy behind her back, ever
dared to call her Miss Molly; so that before Squire Potts, or his good
lady, joined the young folks, which they did ere one delightful half
hour had passed away, both our young men were deeply in for it--the poet
resigned to pine away the rest of his days in solitary grief, and to
write sonnets on his sorrows; and Frank resolved to try all he could do
to win the lady over to be of the same mind with himself, and then to do
every thing in his power, with the respective governors on both sides,
to bring things to a happy conclusion as speedily as possible.
Oh! they were nice people were the Potts's--father, mother, and
daughters; and how delighted Frank was when he sate down to the
dinner-table with them--never were such nice people, thought Frank--and
he wasn't far wide of the mark either. And how disconsolate poor Vernon
felt in being compelled to rough it all alone, for that day at least,
upon water-gruel above stairs! But the ladies, taking compassion upon
his forlorn condition, and sympathizing with him for the dangers he had
past, left the table very early, and favoured him with their company,
leaving the squire below to amuse friend Frank.
But the squire and Frank were not left long alone together, for the
village doctor dropped in just as the ladies had departed to inquire how
Vernon was getting on, and was easily prevailed upon to help the squire
and his guest out with their wine; and then came the clergyman of the
parish, and his three or four private pupils, who had come to finish
letting off the fireworks, which they had favoured the squire with
partially exhibiting on the previous evening; but which the news of
Vernon's misadventure had prematurely cut short--and so the remainder of
the exhibition was postponed to the following evening--and that time
having then arrived, all the rest of the combustibles went off, one
after another, with very great _eclat_.
But where are those three uninteresting young damsels all this
time?--What has become of them? some of our readers may be inclined to
ask. For their satisfaction we beg to inform them, that these three
unprepossessing personages were merely acquaintances, who had dropped in
unexpectedly the evening before, and made use of the squire's residence
as a kind of inn or half-way house, on the way to visit some friends
some ten miles further on, to which place they had betaken themselves
soon after breakfast. And by way of clearing up as we go--The Misses
Potts, (for Potts they were called, there's no disguising that fact,)
the Misses Potts, we say, were at the time our two heroes first met them
returning homewards from a long ride; shortly after which, being
overtaken by a heavy shower, they betook themselves to a friend's house
not very far distant, where, owing to the unfavourable appearance of the
weather, they were induced to remain for the night, and Timothy was
accordingly sent home with a message to that effect.
They were very nice people indeed were the Potts's; and not only did
their two guests think so, but the whole country, far and wide around,
entertained precisely the same opinion. It is not, therefore, surprising
that two young men like Frank and Vernon should be well pleased with
their quarters, or that, having so early gotten into the slough of love,
they should daily continue to sink deeper into the mire. The young
poet's lame leg, though not a very serious affair, was still sufficient
to keep him for several days a close prisoner to the house; but if any
one had asked him--no, we don't go so far as to say that, for if any one
had so asked him he would not have answered truly; but if he had
seriously proposed the question to himself, his heart would have told
him, that notwithstanding all the pain and inconvenience attendant on
his then crippled state, he wouldn't have changed with his friend Frank,
to have been compelled to ramble abroad with the father, instead of
remaining at home to enjoy the society of his daughters.
As for Frank, he was equally well pleased to let matters be as they
were; he shot with the squire, accompanied him on his walks about his
farm; and occasionally, when the weather permitted, attended the young
ladies in their rides; and then, and then only, did Vernon envy him, or
repine at his own lame and helpless condition. But whatever the opinion
of the latter might have been, never in all his born days did Mr Frank
Trevelyan spend his time so much to his satisfaction.
Now we must not suppose that Squire Potts had, like an old blockhead,
admitted these two young men into such close terms of intimacy with his
family, upon no further acquaintance than was furnished him by his
having helped the one out of a lead shaft, and the other to a dry
rig-out after the duckings he had encountered in seeking the necessary
aid--quite the contrary; for though the nature of the accident, and the
forlorn condition of our pedestrians, would have insured them both food
and shelter till the patient could have been safely removed elsewhere;
yet the squire would never have admitted any one to the society of the
female part of his family, whose respectability and station in society
he was at all doubtful about. He had therefore, during supper-time on
the night of his arrival, but in polite manner, put several pumping
questions to Frank, who very readily answered them; from which he
discovered that Frank's father, though personally unacquainted with, he
knew by reputation to be a highly respectable person and a county
magistrate; nor was even Frank's name wholly unknown to him, and the
little he had heard was highly in his favour. He, therefore, passed
muster very well; and, during the course of the shooting expedition on
the following morning, the squire had also contrived to elicit from his
young companion, that Vernon Wycherley's father, who had died some years
before, had been both an intimate and valued friend of his own early
years.
By this means a great portion of the reserve, often attendant upon an
acquaintance recently formed, wore off; so that our two heroes felt
themselves, in the course of a few days, as much at home with their
newly-made friends, as if they had been on terms of intimacy with them
from their childhood. There was, however, one serious drawback to the
poet's felicity. The comedy upon which he had designed to establish his
future fame, was nowhere to be found; and there was every reason to
believe, that it was reposing in the shaft from which its author had
been so providentially rescued, where no one would venture down to seek
it on account of the foul air that was known to prevail near the bottom.
"Well, never mind," said Vernon, who, when informed of his probable
loss, was reclining very comfortably on the drawing-room sofa, taking
tea with his kind entertainers,--"Well, never mind," he said, "I must be
thankful to Heaven for my own preservation, and, practising a little of
friend Frank's philosophy, try to believe that what has happened _is all
for the best_."
"And so I've no doubt it is," interposed Frank; "for you must either
have been doomed to disappointment by your failure, or, if you had
succeeded in being the fortunate competitor out of the hundred
candidates who are striving for the prize, you would, as a matter of
course, have incurred the everlasting enmity of the disappointed
ninety-nine, to say nothing of their numerous friends and allies; why,
you would be cut up to minced meat amongst them all; and nine-tenths of
the reviews and newspapers would be ringing their changes of abuse upon
your name, as one of the most blundering blockheads that ever spoilt
paper."
"Enough, Frank, enough--I give in," interrupted Mr Wycherley; "quite
enough said on the subject, and perhaps you may be right too in this
instance; but I verily believe, that if the direst misfortune were to
happen to one, you would strive to convince him, or at any rate set it
down in our own mind, that it was _all for the best_."
"And if he did so," said the squire, "he might be less distant from the
truth than you imagine. I myself indeed could mention an instance, where
a man at last happily discovered that a circumstance he had set down in
his own mind as the ruling cause of every subsequent misfortune,
eventually proved the instrument of producing him a greater degree of
happiness than often falls to the lot of the most fortunate of mankind."
Frank and Vernon both expressed a wish to hear the tale, which the
squire, who was a rare hand at telling a story, proceeded forthwith to
recount; but as, for reasons we forbear mentioning at present, he
glossed over some important parts, and touched but lightly on others
equally material, we purpose, instead of recording the tale in his own
words, to state the facts precisely as they occurred, the subject of
which will form the contents of the two next following chapters.