_Mrs. Vernon to Lady De Courcy._
Churchhill.
My dear Mother,—Mr. Vernon returned on Thursday night, bringing his
niece with him. Lady Susan had received a line from him by that day’s
post, informing her that Miss Summers had absolutely refused to allow
of Miss Vernon’s continuance in her academy; we were therefore prepared
for her arrival, and expected them impatiently the whole evening. They
came while we were at tea, and I never saw any creature look so
frightened as Frederica when she entered the room. Lady Susan, who had
been shedding tears before, and showing great agitation at the idea of
the meeting, received her with perfect self-command, and without
betraying the least tenderness of spirit. She hardly spoke to her, and
on Frederica’s bursting into tears as soon as we were seated, took her
out of the room, and did not return for some time. When she did, her
eyes looked very red and she was as much agitated as before. We saw no
more of her daughter. Poor Reginald was beyond measure concerned to see
his fair friend in such distress, and watched her with so much tender
solicitude, that I, who occasionally caught her observing his
countenance with exultation, was quite out of patience. This pathetic
representation lasted the whole evening, and so ostentatious and artful
a display has entirely convinced me that she did in fact feel nothing.
I am more angry with her than ever since I have seen her daughter; the
poor girl looks so unhappy that my heart aches for her. Lady Susan is
surely too severe, for Frederica does not seem to have the sort of
temper to make severity necessary. She looks perfectly timid, dejected,
and penitent. She is very pretty, though not so handsome as her mother,
nor at all like her. Her complexion is delicate, but neither so fair
nor so blooming as Lady Susan’s, and she has quite the Vernon cast of
countenance, the oval face and mild dark eyes, and there is peculiar
sweetness in her look when she speaks either to her uncle or me, for as
we behave kindly to her we have of course engaged her gratitude.
Her mother has insinuated that her temper is intractable, but I never
saw a face less indicative of any evil disposition than hers; and from
what I can see of the behaviour of each to the other, the invariable
severity of Lady Susan and the silent dejection of Frederica, I am led
to believe as heretofore that the former has no real love for her
daughter, and has never done her justice or treated her affectionately.
I have not been able to have any conversation with my niece; she is
shy, and I think I can see that some pains are taken to prevent her
being much with me. Nothing satisfactory transpires as to her reason
for running away. Her kind-hearted uncle, you may be sure, was too
fearful of distressing her to ask many questions as they travelled. I
wish it had been possible for me to fetch her instead of him. I think I
should have discovered the truth in the course of a thirty-mile
journey. The small pianoforte has been removed within these few days,
at Lady Susan’s request, into her dressing-room, and Frederica spends
great part of the day there, practising as it is called; but I seldom
hear any noise when I pass that way; what she does with herself there I
do not know. There are plenty of books, but it is not every girl who
has been running wild the first fifteen years of her life, that can or
will read. Poor creature! the prospect from her window is not very
instructive, for that room overlooks the lawn, you know, with the
shrubbery on one side, where she may see her mother walking for an hour
together in earnest conversation with Reginald. A girl of Frederica’s
age must be childish indeed, if such things do not strike her. Is it
not inexcusable to give such an example to a daughter? Yet Reginald
still thinks Lady Susan the best of mothers, and still condemns
Frederica as a worthless girl! He is convinced that her attempt to run
away proceeded from no justifiable cause, and had no provocation. I am
sure I cannot say that it _had_, but while Miss Summers declares that
Miss Vernon showed no signs of obstinacy or perverseness during her
whole stay in Wigmore Street, till she was detected in this scheme, I
cannot so readily credit what Lady Susan has made him, and wants to
make me believe, that it was merely an impatience of restraint and a
desire of escaping from the tuition of masters which brought on the
plan of an elopement. O Reginald, how is your judgment enslaved! He
scarcely dares even allow her to be handsome, and when I speak of her
beauty, replies only that her eyes have no brilliancy! Sometimes he is
sure she is deficient in understanding, and at others that her temper
only is in fault. In short, when a person is always to deceive, it is
impossible to be consistent. Lady Susan finds it necessary that
Frederica should be to blame, and probably has sometimes judged it
expedient to accuse her of ill-nature and sometimes to lament her want
of sense. Reginald is only repeating after her ladyship.
I remain, &c., &c.,
CATHERINE VERNON.