Mr Primrose on the following morning set off for London in a
post-chaise, being unwilling to risk his neck a second time in a
stage-coach; for he had taken it into his head that a stage-coach
must be overturned at the bottom of a steep hill. He travelled alone;
and we will for the present leave him alone; though it might be very
entertaining to observe how pettishly he brooked the tediousness of
that mode of travelling, and how teasing he was to the post-boys,
sometimes urging them to drive fast, and then rebuking them for using
their horses so cruelly. What the poor man could find to amuse himself
with for the long journey, which occupied him nearly three days, we
cannot tell. In the meantime, we find it necessary to return to that
part of our narrative in which we related that the partial exhibition
to which Penelope had been exposed at the Countess of Smatterton’s
select little party, had produced an almost serious illness.
Nothing could exceed the kind attentions of the Countess. Every hour
was she making enquiries, and all that could possibly be said or done
by way of alleviation or consolation did her ladyship say and do for
her heart-broken patient. It never for one single moment entered the
mind of Lady Smatterton that Miss Primrose could feel the slightest
repugnance in the world to the profession which had been chosen for
her; nor could her ladyship think that any sorrow or deep feeling was
on the mind of Penelope for the death of her uncle, or that there was
any harassing anxiety on her spirits at the thought of her father’s
probable arrival in England. The Countess of Smatterton might have been
a woman of very great feeling; but, from difference of situation, she
could not by any means sympathize with Penelope. There is an infinite
difference between five hundred acquaintances and an only dear friend.
The pleasures of Penelope were not of the same nature as those of the
Countess of Smatterton, nor was there much similarity in their pains.
There were also other considerations by which it may be accounted
for, that the sympathy of her ladyship was not exactly adapted to the
feelings of Penelope. The Countess was a patron, Penelope a dependent.
The Countess had but the mere vanity of rank, Penelope a natural and
essential pride of spirit; and it not unfrequently happens, that
persons in the higher walks of society regard the rest of the world as
made to be subservient to their caprices and the instruments of their
will. This last consideration, however, is not altogether the fault of
the higher classes; much of it, perhaps most of it, is owing to the
hungry venal sycophancy of their inferiors,--but there never will be
an act of parliament passed against servility, and therefore we need
not waste our time in declaiming against it, for nothing but an act of
parliament can thoroughly cure it.
Penelope was not sufficiently ill to keep her apartment for any
great length of time. The medical attendant thought it desirable
that the patient should be amused as much as possible; the air also
was recommended, and, if possible, a little change of scene. To all
these suggestions prompt and immediate attention was paid. It was
fortunate that the Earl of Smatterton had a residence in the immediate
vicinity of London, and it was the intention of the family to spend
the Christmas holidays there. It would therefore be very opportune to
afford the young lady a change of air and scene: for from her childhood
Penelope had never wandered beyond the two villages of Smatterton and
Neverden. The proposal was made to her to accompany the family, and the
proposal was made so kindly, she could not possibly refuse it, even
had it not been agreeable.
There was something perplexing to the inartificial and unsophisticated
mind of Penelope Primrose, in the wonderful difference between
fashionable manners under different circumstances. She had not the
slightest doubt that Lord Smatterton and her ladyship were people of
high fashion, nor could she have the least hesitation in concluding
that the Duchess of Steeple Bumstead was also a woman of high fashion;
but she recollected how rudely the Duchess had stared at her, and she
had also a general feeling that many more persons of fashion at the
select party had appeared, both in their manner towards her, and their
deportment towards each other, absolutely disagreeable, unfeeling,
and insolent. There also occurred to her recollection, amidst other
thoughts of a similar nature, the impertinent and conceited airs
which Lord Spoonbill had exhibited when she had formerly met him by
accident; and she compared, with some degree of astonishment, his
present very agreeable with his past very disagreeable manners.
The day on which Lord Smatterton and his family removed to their
suburban villa was the very day that saw Mr Primrose depart from
Smatterton on his way to London. And if on this occasion we should,
by way of being very sentimental and pathetic, say, “Little did they
think, the one that the father was coming to town, and the other
that the daughter was leaving it,”--we should be only saying what
our readers might very readily conjecture to be the case without any
assistance from us: but we should not be perhaps exceeding the limits
of truth. For, in truth, it was a thought which actually did enter the
mind of Mr Primrose just as he set out on his journey: feeling somewhat
angry at the disappointment which he had experienced, he actually
said to himself at the very moment that he entered the chaise: “Now I
suppose, when I get to town, Lord Smatterton and his family will be
gone out of town again.”
It was all very well for the medical attendant to talk about change of
air and change of scene: men of science know very well that persons
in a certain rank will do what they will, and so it is not amiss that
they should be told how very suitable and right it is. Change of scene
is pretty enough and wholesome enough for baby minds that want new
playthings; but no local changes can reach the affliction and sorrow of
heart which sits brooding within. Penelope found that his lordship’s
suburban villa, though built in the present taste, furnished with the
greatest magnificence, and situated in one of the most delightful of
those ten thousand beauteous pieces of scenery which surround the
metropolis, was still unable to disperse the gloom that hung upon her
mind, and to reconcile her to that profession which the imperious
kindness of the Countess of Smatterton had destined for her.
Lord Spoonbill took infinite pains to render the change of scene
agreeable to the young lady. The weather was, for the time of year,
cheerful and bright, and though cold, not intensely so: and in spite
of the numerous hints which the Earl gave him of the impropriety of
such excessive condescension, the heir of Smatterton would accompany
the plebeian dependent in the chariot, and point out to her the
various beauties of the surrounding scenery. A person who can see has
a great advantage over one that is blind. Such advantage had Lord
Spoonbill over Penelope Primrose. In her mind there did not exist the
slightest or most distant apprehension whatever of the design which his
lordship had in these attentions. Had there been such apprehension,
or such suspicion, vain would have been all his lordship’s endeavours
to render himself agreeable to the young lady. As it was, however,
Penelope certainly began to entertain a much higher opinion of his
lordship’s good qualities than she had before. He did not indeed talk
like a philosopher, or utter oracles, but he manifested kind feelings
and generous sentiments. On many subjects he talked fluently, though
his talk was common-place; and he perhaps might adapt himself to the
supposed limited information of his companion. The young lady was also
pleased with the apparent indifference which in his conversation he
manifested to the distinctions of rank. And as Penelope was pleased
with the young nobleman’s attentions, and grateful for the considerate
and almost unexpected kindness which she experienced from the
Smatterton family, her manner became less constrained, and, even though
unwell, she was cheerful, and the gracefulness of gratitude gave to her
natural beauty a charm which heightened and embellished it. Thus, the
beauty by which Lord Spoonbill’s attention had been first attracted,
appeared to him infinitely more fascinating when connected with such
mental and moral charms: so that, to use an expression which has no
meaning, but which is generally understood, his lordship had fairly
lost his heart.
The day after the family had departed from town, the letter which Mr
Primrose had sent to his daughter was, with several others, put into
the magnificent hands of the Right Honorable the Earl of Smatterton.
His lordship did everything with a grace peculiar to himself; even the
opening of letters was to him a matter of importance; and his friends
have often smiled at the serious and self-satisfied air with which he
was accustomed to take up the letters one by one, reading aloud the
address before he broke the seal. There seemed to be something pleasant
to his ear in the sound of the words, “The Right Honorable the Earl
of Smatterton.” His lordship used generally to open his letters in
the presence of his family; and as it frequently happened that, under
cover to his lordship, there came letters addressed to members of his
establishment, he used to make a great ceremony in reading aloud their
address also. It was curious, we have been told, to hear the different
intonation with which his lordship uttered the names of his domestics
from that which he used when speaking of his own great self.
On the present occasion there was only Lord Spoonbill present when the
letters were opened. And when his lordship had first pompously read
aloud “The Right Honorable the Earl of Smatterton,” he afterwards, in a
lower and quicker tone, read--“Miss Primrose.” His lordship then handed
the letter to his son, saying, “Charles, this letter, I perceive, is
addressed to Miss Primrose; cause it immediately to be delivered to the
young woman. At the same time let me give you a caution. Condescension
to our inferiors is very becoming, and is one of the brightest jewels
in a nobleman’s coronet: but, Charles, while we condescend to our
inferiors, we should always recollect, and let them also know, that
they are our inferiors. We should always treat our inferiors with
kindness, and we may behave to them, when we admit them to our table,
with courteous politeness. But we must not, and ought not, by way of
shewing our condescension, to let down and forget our dignity.”
Lord Spoonbill thought more of Miss Primrose’s pretty face than he
did of his own dignity, and was therefore beginning to grow weary of
this right honorable prosing, and to shew symptoms of fidgettiness.
But when the Earl of Smatterton had once taken it into his head to
administer the word of exhortation to any of his family, he was not
easily diverted from his purpose by any expressions or indications of
uneasiness on the part of the patient: therefore he proceeded.
“Now, Spoonbill, let me as a friend advise you. I waive my authority
and speak to you purely and simply as a friend. Our title is a mere
empty sound, unless the dignity of it is properly kept up. You are
disposed to be very condescending, and at home it is all well enough;
but what I disapprove of is your condescension in public. Yesterday you
accompanied this young woman in the chariot, and it is impossible to
say who may have seen you thus familiarly associating with a person of
inferior rank. There are too many encroachments already upon the higher
classes, and we ought not to invite and encourage more. I have done.”
Lord Spoonbill was glad to hear that. But the disobedient one, as if
his only object in listening to a sermon had been that he might act
directly contrary to its advice, forthwith, instead of causing the
letter to be delivered, did himself, with his own right honorable
hands, in person present the letter to Penelope.
“Who should write to me?” thought the dependent, as she received
the letter with a smile of gratitude and gracefulness from the
condescending son of the dignified Earl of Smatterton. Lord Spoonbill
thought that Penelope had never before looked so graceful and so
beautiful as at that moment. There are some countenances in which
peculiar and transient emotions light up a most fascinating expression
of loveliness. This peculiarity belonged to Penelope; and that look
of loveliness rewarded Lord Spoonbill for his condescension, and made
a much deeper impression on his heart than the discourse of the Earl
had made on his understanding. So impressive was it that it almost
enchained him to the spot, so as to prevent Penelope from immediately
gratifying her curiosity by perusing the letter. His lordship, as if to
find reason, or to make cause for prolonging his stay, said:
“If this letter requires an answer by return of post, my father will be
happy to give you a frank; but the post closes at three, and it is now
past twelve.”
“I thank you, my lord,” replied the young lady, looking at the letter
and half opening it; “I do not know from whence it comes.”
In a few seconds the letter was opened, and the quick glancing eye of
Penelope saw the name of Primrose, and the whole truth rushed into her
mind with overpowering violence; and the intense feeling of delight at
the thought of being saved from dependence and rescued from a dreaded
profession, was too much for her weakened spirits to bear composedly,
and exclaiming, with hysteric shriek, “My father, my father!” she would
have sunk on the floor had not Lord Spoonbill caught her in his arms
and placed her on a sofa. His lordship rang violently for assistance,
which was promptly and successfully rendered; and as his presence was
no farther necessary, he thought it best to inform the Countess of the
situation of Miss Primrose, and of the event which had produced this
sudden burst of feeling.
Now, generally speaking, the Countess of Smatterton was a lady of great
humanity and considerateness; but when anything occurred to interfere
with or interrupt a favourite scheme, her natural tenderness was
much abated. It presently came into her mind that the arrival of Mr
Primrose in England would prevent the purposed exhibition of Penelope’s
musical talents, and this thought afflicted her and made her almost
angry. Nevertheless, her ladyship immediately went to Miss Primrose and
offered her congratulations on the happy event. These congratulations
the young lady, in the simplicity of her heart, believed to be
sincere, and she made her acknowledgments accordingly; but she was
very much surprised at the manner in which the Countess received these
acknowledgments.
Penelope, when left alone, read over her father’s letter with more
composed and settled delight, and it was an unspeakable relief to her
mind that now, from the language of this communication, she had reason
to be satisfied that there was no danger that she should be urged into
that dreaded publicity from which she had so timidly but so vainly
shrunk. This letter produced a much more powerful and healing effect
than any change of air or variation of scenery could accomplish. Now
was she full of joy and full of hope, and almost forgot the tears she
had shed for her uncle, and the sighs she had heaved for her lover.
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
LONDON:
PRINTED BY C. H. REYNELL, BROAD STREET, GOLDEN SQUARE.
Transcriber’s Notes
Page 63: “divers discusssions” changed to “divers discussions”
Page 212: “be isappointed” changed to “be disappointed”
Page 353: “shew symtoms” changed to “shew symptoms”