Here the conversation ended, and they passed the evening at their
favourite game. "I fear," said Mrs. Orme, as soon as she found
herself alone with her husband, "she has no predilection for the
profession; and if so, our hopes are blasted."
"Yes, yes, she has, only she has thrown up a masked battery in her
own defence; but when Charles comes, you will see with what ease he
will destroy it."
A few days after this conversation, Colonel and Mrs. Orme
entertained a large party at dinner, at which a brilliant company
of fashionable friends and acquaintances was present. As this
was the first party that had been invited during her visit, Emma
bestowed a more than ordinary attention on her personal appearance.
Her dress, if not expensive, was elegant, and though there were
other ladies who surpassed her in the richness of their attire,
there was no one who equalled her in the beauty of her figure, or
the grace and elegance of her movements. She now felt herself,
for the first time in her life, in a position which gave her an
opportunity of displaying her attractions, which she did with so
much grace, that she excited the envy and admiration of the company,
who were astonished when they heard that this was the daughter of
Mr. Holmes. In the course of the evening the rumble of wheels was
heard at the door, and soon after a handsome young man entered the
drawing-room, whom Emma at once perceived to be Charles Orme, on
his parents and sister hastening forward to meet him. He had just
got leave of absence, he said, for a few weeks, and sooner than
he expected, which had brought him to Redhill, without previously
sending any notice. Emma was quite charmed with his appearance, and
still more so when the Colonel, walking up to her, said, "Allow me,
Miss Holmes, to introduce to you my son Charles--Charles, Miss Emma
Holmes.
"This is an unlooked-for pleasure, Miss Holmes," said Captain Orme,
performing his part in the ceremony of the introduction with the
most polished gallantry; "I have often heard of you from my sister
in her letters. What charming weather this is! Pray, may I have you
as a partner, as I see they are getting up a quadrille?"
Emma gracefully consented; and from that moment her destiny in life
was fixed. On the other hand, Captain Orme was quite struck with her
beauty; and though the apparent heartiness of his manner, at his
first introduction, was merely the result of that vanity which seeks
to engross for itself the company of the most elegant woman present,
he could not help experiencing, even in his cold and selfish heart,
a somewhat deeper and more serious feeling, as he conversed with
this young and beautiful girl. Colonel and Mrs. Orme viewed, with
great satisfaction, the evident impression made on their son by
Emma's beauty; and, accordingly, after their guests had departed,
they communicated to him the matrimonial speculation they had in
view for him.
[Illustration: FIRST MEETING OF CAPTAIN ORME AND EMMA HOLMES.
Vol. ii. p. 352.]
"I am sure, Charles," said his father, "there could not be a
more desirable match: youth, beauty, and last, not least (with a
significant leer), a very handsome fortune."
"Has she her fortune at her own command?" asked his son.
"Why, no, the wealth of the Holmes family has all been accumulated
by the old man; and I should suppose the amount of this girl's
fortune must be dependent on his will. But he will, doubtless, give
her a handsome portion, if he is satisfied with the match."
"Now, that is just the difficulty," said Mrs. Orme. "The family,
always strong Evangelicals, have lately turned Dissenters, because,
forsooth, Mr. Vaughan's sermons are not sufficiently methodistical
to please them. Mr. Holmes has a great prejudice against the
military profession, as one both of a questionable nature in itself,
and beset with numerous temptations. We must, then, play our cards
well, and act with caution."
"The first thing," said the Colonel, "is for you, Charles, to pay
your addresses to Miss Holmes. I do not think there will be much
difficulty with _her_."
"Well, I should rather suppose there would not," replied the modest
youth, contemplating, with considerable satisfaction, his elegant
figure in the mirror over the drawing-room chimney-piece; "it shall
not be my fault if she does not become Mrs. Orme. But good night. I
was up all last night at Lady Fortescue's ball, and must be off to
bed."
"One word, Charles," said his mother, "what are you going to do with
Miss Collingwood?"
"O, that has all been over for some time. I learned that her father
has nothing to depend on but his pay, and that his daughter's
fortune, left her by an aunt, amounts only to three thousand
pounds, and is so tied up, that I should never be able to touch a
shilling of it. So I am well out of that affair."
The Captain was a young man about the age of twenty-five. He had
inherited from his mother a handsome fortune, which he received on
coming of age; but such had been his profuse extravagance, before
and after he entered the army, that when he had paid his so-called
debts of honour, and the Jew brokers who had advanced him money,
he found himself unable to defray the bills of his tradesmen, who
were clamorous for the settlement of their accounts. Various were
the expedients which he employed to keep them from carrying their
threats into execution; and at length he resolved on marriage, as
the only alternative he could devise, to extricate himself from his
embarrassments. He first paid his addresses to the eldest daughter
of a country gentleman, but soon quitted her on ascertaining the
small amount of fortune which she possessed. A similar reason,
as above-mentioned, induced him to desert Miss Collingwood, the
daughter of a retired major in the Indian army; and now he prepared
to pay his addresses to the more accomplished and the more wealthy
daughter of Mr. Holmes. He, of course, concealed from the latter
the history of his former life, spoke of the fortune which fell
to him by the death of his mother, as though it were still in his
possession, and assured her that he had no other motive in view
than the honour and felicity of being permitted to call her his
wife. Unaccustomed to the duplicity of the world, and fudging of
others, from the integrity of her own heart, she listened to his
overtures with pleasure, and though she proposed speaking to her
parents before she ventured to give any decisive reply, yet this was
overruled by Mrs. Orme, who suggested the expediency of deferring
it for the present. "You know, my dear," said the intriguing woman,
"your Papa and Mamma, from their peculiar sentiments on religion,
may feel some objection to Charles's profession, and it will be
necessary to adopt some plan to reconcile them to it; and, as an
opening has now been made, the Colonel and I both think that we had
better establish a close intimacy with the Elms, before anything is
said on the subject."
On her return home, she intermingled with the family as usual,
preserved the same degree of decorum in her attention to religious
duties, and at times appeared thoughtful and sedate, which induced
her unsuspecting sister to imagine that she was beginning to feel
the deep impressions of religion on her heart. Amidst all her
gaiety, and sprightliness, and aversion to decided piety, she had
always displayed an honest frankness when speaking on the subject,
but now she had a part to act which required duplicity; and having
been tutored to this vice at the Colonel's, she soon became a
proficient. As her sister Louisa had made some reference to her
comparative sedateness, and expressed, in very delicate terms, her
hope that it was the beginning of the great change, she resolved
to assume a more uniform gravity of manner, that she might more
effectually conceal the passion which had taken such strong hold
of her feelings. She made no allusion to the scenes of gaiety she
had recently witnessed, and in which she moved as one of the most
admired figures; nor did she express any wish to repeat her visit,
which rather tended to confirm the hopes of her sister.
"Jane and I," said Miss Holmes, as they were all rising from the
dinner table, "are going to see Mrs. Kent; will you accompany us,
Emma?"
"Certainly. I long to see the old lady. She is a real Christian,
I have no doubt; and if her mind had received the same degree of
cultivation as her heart, she would have exhibited the majesty and
force no less than the amiable traits of religion."
"I was not aware," replied Miss Holmes, with a smile of pleasure,
"that you ever associated such qualities with the pure religion of
Jesus Christ."
"O yes, I do; and I am delighted when I see them embodied in a
living character; but they must be blended to produce their full
effect."
"But is not the beauty of religion more attractive than its
grandeur?"
"It may be so to some persons, but not to me. I prefer a mind that
can discourse on the doctrines of Christianity in a style of speech
which bears some analogy to their sublime greatness."
"I hope, dear Emma," said Miss Holmes, "you do not now feel
that strong antipathy to the Corries which you have heretofore
manifested; for though they are weak Christians, yet you must
acknowledge they are pious."
"Yes, they may be pious," replied Emma, with some sarcastic warmth
of manner; "but who that has any feeling of respect for the honour
of Christianity does not regret that their piety is not confined to
a cloister? Mrs. Kent exhibits the beauty of religion, the Corries
its deformity: Mrs. Kent would make an infidel believe, but the
Corries would make a Christian doubt; she, by the artless simplicity
of her instructions, would
... 'rear the tender thought,
And teach the young idea how to shoot;'
till the principle of grace grows up laden with the fruits of
righteousness; they, by their vanity and self-conceit, their
dogmatism, and perverse obstinacy of opinion, would shake the
strongest faith. Or, to speak in plain terms, such Christians as the
Corries should never speak on religious subjects in the presence of
the irreligious; for if they do, they will confirm the enmity which
they wish to subdue, and give a degree of encouragement to sin which
they do not intend."
The old woman had just finished reading a letter when the young
ladies entered her cottage; and though she received them with her
usual kind manner, yet she could not conceal the powerful agitation
of her feelings.
"I hope," said Miss Holmes, "we are not intruding."
"No, Miss, I am very glad to see you; and I hope you will not allow
my distress to give you any trouble."
"O," said Emma, "if you are in trouble let us know the cause of it;
though I ought to apologize for having asked such an impertinent
question."
"The question is not impertinent, and therefore I beg you will say
nothing about an apology. I have just received a letter from my dear
boy, who has been absent from me these fourteen years, and as I had
not heard from him for many months I thought he was dead."
"Where is he?"
"He is with his regiment at the Cape of Good Hope, very ill in the
hospital, and says he does not expect that I shall ever hear from
him again. He was once a good, obedient son, much attached to his
mother, but he fell into evil company, and was enticed to enlist as
a soldier. He said nothing to me about it for many days after he had
done it, or I could have got him off by speaking to Squire Ridgeway;
but I did not know anything about it till the night before he was
marched off, and since then I have never seen him; and now he is
confined in the hospital so far off that I can't go to nurse him,
nor speak to him about the Saviour who came into the world to save
sinners. I hope you will excuse me, ladies, but a mother can't help
weeping."
While the poor old woman was telling this affecting tale, the
countenance of Emma underwent very perceptible changes, from the
deep crimson blush to a deathlike paleness, till, overpowered by her
feelings, she fainted in the arms of her sister. She was taken into
the open air, and various expedients were adopted to restore her,
which after a short time proved successful. "Dear creature," said
Mrs. Kent, fanning her, "she has a tender heart, and can't bear to
hear of another's sorrows. I am grieved that I said anything about
my affliction, it has proved too much for her."
"She has," Miss Holmes remarked, "a great esteem for you, which is
the cause of her having felt so great an interest in your calamity;
but she will soon be better."
On recovering, she expressed her regret that the weakness of her
nerves should occasion so much trouble; and having taken a draught
of water, she rose, and leaning on the arms of her sisters, soon
after walked home. During the evening she endeavoured to resume her
usual cheerfulness, but she could not, and dreading a recurrence of
the fit, she complained of indisposition, and retired to rest. In
the morning, when her sister Louisa went into her room, she found
her in a sweet sleep; and, as she was stealing away, she saw a
miniature lying on her dressing-table, and on looking at it thought
it bore a strong resemblance to Captain Orme, who, after Emma's
return home, had one day called with his sister.
The following day Mr. and Mrs. Holmes were surprised by a call from
the Colonel and Miss Orme, who came to invite them to meet a select
dinner party; and, though they had resolved not to intermix with
the gay world, yet they knew not how to refuse such an expression
of politeness, especially as they had been so kind to Emma. They
therefore consented.
"Mamma requested me," said Miss Orme to her young friend, "to offer
you the loan of this book, which she thinks you will like. _It is a
very religious one. You may open it at your leisure._"
The emphasis which was placed on this sentence, viewed in connection
with the miniature painting, awakened the suspicion of Miss Holmes,
who now believed that some secret correspondence was going on
between her sister and Captain Orme; and an accidental occurrence
took place in the course of the day, which removed every doubt from
her mind. Emma on taking her handkerchief out of her reticule, as
she was retiring from the parlour after dinner, dropped a letter,
which her mother picked up, and read. She immediately presented it
to Mr. Holmes, who also read it. This was a letter which Mrs. Orme
had inclosed between the leaves of the book she had sent to Emma,
informing her that Charles was well, and wanted to meet her that
evening, at Mrs. Paton's. She added that she hoped she had contrived
to keep all at the Elms ignorant of the affair, as the Colonel was
still of opinion that they should not be spoken to on the business
till everything was properly arranged.
This letter, which explained the obscure parts of Emma's conduct,
involved the whole family in great perplexity; and they were at a
loss to know what course to pursue, that would save her from the
snares which had been laid to entrap her. At length it was resolved
to replace the letter, and leave the room. This was done, and on
passing through the hall, Mr. Holmes met her, and said,
"I am going, my dear, to take a ride in the carriage this afternoon,
will you go with me?"
"Certainly, Papa."
On entering the parlour she found her letter, and eagerly seized it,
presuming that it had escaped detection.
She had given her promise to accompany her father when her feelings
were strongly excited by the dread of having Mrs. Orme's letter to
her discovered; but now she began to complain of indisposition, and
wished to decline the proposed ride. However, her objections were
overruled, and she went.
On the following morning, her father, finding her alone, took
the opportunity of alluding to his anxiety for her spiritual and
temporal welfare, and hoped that she would take no important step in
life without the advice and approbation of her parents.
"Do you think it possible, Papa, that I could be so unwise or so
undutiful as to take any important step without consulting you?"
"Tell me, my dear child," said her father, taking her by the hand,
"have you not already been induced to do so, and that by the
persuasion of others?"
This question, proposed in the mildest accents, and with every
expression of parental tenderness, staggered and confounded her,
and, after a momentary pause, she fell on her knees and implored
forgiveness.
"Yes, my father, I have been induced to act a part which I sincerely
regret. Forgive me, I beseech you."
She frankly confessed the whole plot; offered to return every letter
and present she had received, and promised that she would never
suffer herself to be again beguiled from the path of duty. These
presents Mr. Holmes sent back to the Colonel's, accompanied by the
following letter:--
"SIR,--Since your call on Thursday morning, I have detected the
intimacy which has been formed between my daughter and your son;
and am surprised that you and Mrs. Orme should so far forget
the obligations which are due to a parent, as to dissuade my
child from consulting me on a measure of so much importance to
our happiness, and her own. Had the young people resolved to
practise this species of deception on me without your knowledge
or consent, I should blame them only; but as this plot has been
got up by you, I must say, that the amount of their fault is
lost in the greater magnitude of yours; and I have no doubt
but your object is to repair the ruined fortune of your son
at the expense of my daughter's happiness. You will therefore
allow me to say, that all intimacy between our families has
ceased.--Yours," &c.
After this abrupt termination of an intimacy which had opened
before her the prospect of a connection for life, she appeared for
a few days relieved from an oppressive burden of anxiety, and was
assiduous in her attention to her parents; but her appearance and
her manners soon proved that her affections were entangled, and
that nothing but time and the tenderest treatment on their part
could disengage them. She became low and dejected--careless of her
person--unwilling to mingle in any company--the healthful bloom of
her countenance passed away, succeeded by the sickly and pallid
hue; she seldom took part in conversation, and endeavoured to avoid
all intercourse with the other members of the family. At length
her mother became much alarmed, and said it was her opinion, that
unless they consented to a renewal of the intimacy with the Ormes,
they must prepare to follow their daughter to the grave. "I never
can give my consent to the connection," said Mr. Holmes; "and would
rather follow her to the grave than see her united to such a person.
Captain Orme is a man who has squandered his fortune; destroyed the
strength of his constitution by dissolute habits; is involved in
debt by his extravagance; and would sacrifice the happiness, and
even the life of Emma, with as little remorse as he now feels for
his past crimes. He is bad, but his parents, if possible, are worse;
for they have not only given the sanction of their approbation to
his conduct, but attempted to corrupt our child, and thus ruin our
domestic happiness."
The conduct of a female, who accepts the addresses of a gentleman
without consulting her parents, or her guardians, is deserving of
censure; but when she is beguiled into the measure by the entreaties
and persuasion of others, and especially those who have children
or wards of their own, the voice of censure should reserve its
severest expressions of reprobation for her tempters and seducers.
Their delinquency, it is true, does not cancel hers, but it offers
some slight degree of extenuation. What evils often result from
that system of manoeuvring, which is so much tolerated, nay, even
applauded, in society! These match-makers and busy-bodies--these
common nuisances and pests--who trample on all the sacred principles
of honour and of friendship, and display such indifference when
detected--ought to be excluded from every family which wishes to
preserve the honour and happiness of its female members. Nor ought
we to hold in less detestation and abhorrence, the conduct of those
who allow our children to hold secret and forbidden intercourse with
each other at their houses, or consent to become the agents through
whom a correspondence is carried on. Such persons may express their
tender sympathy for the young people who are not permitted to meet
openly and in the face of day, and may pass some heavy censures on
the cruelty of their parents; but can they, on reflection, approve
of their own doings, and think themselves entitled to respect?
Impossible! They are acting a part over which they wish the veil
of secrecy to be thrown; and, often sacrificing on the same altar
the virtue and happiness of the child, with the peace and honour of
the parent, can offer no other apology for their conduct, than that
"they did not mean any harm."
Mr. Holmes saw, with great anxiety, the declining health of his
beloved Emma; and on surprising her, in tears, one morning as he
entered her room, he expressed his fears that she was unhappy.
"Yes, my father, I am unhappy; and I believe that I shall never see
another happy day in this unhappy world."
"But I understood, when I spoke to you on the subject, that it was
your determination to renounce all further thoughts of Captain Orme."
"Yes, I said I would return his letters, and never suffer myself
to be again beguiled from the path of duty; but I cannot subdue my
feelings. I think if you knew him you would not object."
"My dear girl, I have strong objections to his profession, which is
not favourable to the cultivation of those domestic virtues on which
the happiness of a wife depends."
"But, Papa, he is one of the most attentive and amiable of men; and
would, I have no doubt, make me happy."
"It is very rarely, indeed, that a rake ever makes a good husband."
"A rake! Papa; you are misinformed."
"Ah, my child, you are not aware of the deception which has been
practised on you, by those you once thought, and perhaps still
think, your friends. I have made the most minute inquiry respecting
his habits, his property, and his character; and I can assure
you, on evidence the most decisive, that he is dissolute in his
habits--impoverished in his fortune--and his general character is
the very reverse of what you imagine."
"O Papa! I think you have been deceived. He has his mother's
fortune, which is very handsome. I have seen the original deeds
which secured it to him."
"He had his mother's fortune, my dear, but he squandered it away
before he came of age; and when it was actually transferred to him,
it was not sufficient to pay all his debts."
"Are you sure, Papa, that you are not misinformed?"
"Perfectly sure, my dear Emma."
"And may I be permitted to ask, how you gained this information,
which is so contrary to every statement I have received; and which,
if true, must change my opinion of him?"
"I gained it, in the first instance, through the medium of your
brothers; but as I was unwilling to believe such an unfavourable
account, even on their testimony, I obtained a personal interview
with several of his creditors, who gave me ocular proof of the
correctness of their statements. Indeed, one of them arrested him
last week, for the sum of twenty pounds, which had been due more
than a year and a half; and others have been induced to wait a few
months longer, from the representations of the Colonel, who has told
them that his son is just on the eve of marrying a wealthy citizen's
daughter, when every claim shall be settled."
"Impossible! Such treachery cannot dwell in the human bosom!"
"It is true, my child."
"I am forced to believe it, Papa, and yet I cannot. Perhaps it is
only a temporary embarrassment, arising from some act of generosity,
or some species of fraud, that has been practised on him. And you
know, Papa, a gentleman who is reduced to poverty, may rise again in
society; and gaining wisdom by his experience, he may become more
careful."
"Yes, my dear, if he be a man of probity and virtue; but if not, he
will never rise."
"And is not Charles Orme a man of probity and virtue?"