Ten days or a fortnight flew swiftly by, during which Mrs. Wilson
suffered Emily to give Clara a week, having first ascertained that
Denbigh was a settled resident at the rectory, and thereby not likely to
be oftener at the House of Francis than at the hall, where he was a
frequent and welcome guest, both on his own account and as a friend of
Doctor Ives. Emily had returned, and she brought the bride and groom
with her; when one evening as they were pleasantly seated at their
various amusements, with the ease of old acquaintances, Mr. Haughton
entered. It was at an hour rather unusual for his visits; and throwing
down his hat, after making the usual inquiries, he began without
preface--
"I know, good people, you are all wondering what has brought me out this
time of night, but the truth is, Lucy has coaxed her mother to persuade
me into a ball in honor of the times; so, my lady, I have consented, and
my wife and daughter have been buying up all the finery in B----, by the
way, I suppose, of anticipating their friends. There is a regiment of
foot come into barracks within fifteen miles of us, and to-morrow I must
beat up for recruits among the officers--girls are never wanting on such
occasions."
"Why," cried the baronet, "you are growing young again, my friend." "No,
Sir Edward, but my daughter is young, and life has so many cares that I
am willing she should get rid of as many as she can at my expense."
"Surely you would not wish her to dance them away," said Mrs. Wilson;
"such relief I am afraid will prove temporary."
"Do you disapprove of dancing, ma'am?" said Mr. Haughton, who held her
opinions in great respect as well as a little dread.
"I neither approve nor disapprove of it--jumping up and down is innocent
enough in itself, and if it must be done it is well it were done
gracefully; as for the accompaniments of dancing I say nothing--what do
you say, Doctor Ives?"
"To what, my dear madam?"
"To dancing."
"Oh let the girls dance if they enjoy it."
"I am glad you think so, doctor," cried the delighted Mr. Haughton; I
was afraid I recollected your advising your son never to dance nor to
play at games of chance."
"You thought right, my friend," said the doctor, laying down his
newspaper; "I did give that advice to Frank, whom you will please to
remember is now rector of Bolton. I do not object to dancing as not
innocent in itself or as an elegant exercise; but it is like drinking,
generally carried to excess: now as a Christian I am opposed to all
excesses; the music and company lead to intemperance in the recreation,
and they often induce neglect of duties--but so may anything else."
"I like a game of whist, doctor, greatly," said Mr. Haughton; "but
observing that you never play, and recollecting your advice to Mr.
Francis, I have forbidden cards when you are my guest."
"I thank you for the compliment, good sir," replied the doctor, with a
smile; "still I would much rather see you play cards than hear you talk
scandal, as you sometimes do."
"Scandal!" echoed Mr. Haughton.
"Ay, scandal," said the doctor, coolly, "such as the remark you made the
last time, which was only yesterday, I called to see you. You accused
Sir Edward of being wrong in letting that poacher off so easily; the
baronet, you said, did not shoot himself, and did not know how to prize
game as he ought."
"Scandal, Doctor--do you call that scandal? why I told Sir Edward so
himself, two or three times."
"I know you did, and that was rude."
"Rude! I hope sincerely Sir Edward has put no such construction on it?"
The baronet smiled kindly, and shook his head.
"Because the baronet chooses to forgive your offences, it does not alter
their nature," said the doctor, gravely: "no, you must repent and amend;
you impeached his motives for doing a benevolent act, and that I call
scandal."
"Why, doctor, I was angry the fellow should be let loose; he is a pest
to all the game in the county, and every sportsman will tell you so--
here, Mr. Moseley, you know Jackson, the poacher."
"Oh! a poacher is an intolerable wretch!" cried Captain Jarvis.
"Oh! a poacher," echoed John, looking drolly at Emily, "hang all
poachers."
"Poacher or no poacher, does not alter the scandal," said the doctor;
"now let me tell you, good sir, I would rather play at fifty games of
whist than make one such speech, unless indeed it interfered with my
duties; now, sir, with your leave I'll explain myself as to my son.
There is an artificial levity about dancing that adds to the dignity of
no man: from some it may detract: a clergyman for instance is supposed
to have other things to do, and it might hurt him in the opinions of
those with whom his influence is necessary, and impair his usefulness;
therefore a clergyman should never dance. In the same way with cards;
they are the common instruments of gambling, and an odium is attached to
them on that account; women and clergymen must respect the prejudices of
mankind in some cases, or lose their influence in society."
"I did hope to have the pleasure of your company, doctor, said Mr.
Haughton, hesitatingly.
"And if it will give you pleasure," cried the rector, "you shall have it
with all my heart, good sir; it would be a greater evil to wound the
feelings of such a neighbor as Mr. Haughton, than to show my face once
at a ball," and rising, he laid his hand on the shoulder of the other
kindly. "Both your scandal and rudeness are easily forgiven; but I
wished to show you the common error of the world which has attached
odium to certain things, while it charitably overlooks others of a more
heinous nature."
Mr. Haughton, who had at first been a little staggered with the attack
of the doctor, recovered himself, and laying a handful of notes on the
table, hoped he should have the pleasure of seeing every body. The
invitation was generally accepted, and the worthy man departed, happy if
his friends did but come, and were pleased.
"Do you dance, Miss Moseley?" inquired Denbigh of Emily, as he sat
watching her graceful movements in netting a purse for her father.
"Oh, yes! the doctor said nothing of us girls, you know I suppose he
thinks we have no dignity to lose."
"Admonitions are generally thrown away on young ladies when pleasure is
in the question," said the doctor, with a look of almost paternal
affection.
"I hope you do not seriously disapprove of it in moderation," said Mrs.
Wilson.
"That depends, madam, upon circumstances; if it is to be made subsidiary
to envy, malice, coquetry, vanity, or any other such little lady-like
accomplishment, it certainly had better be let alone. But in moderation,
and with the feelings of my little pet here, I should be cynical,
indeed, to object."
Denbigh appeared lost in his own ruminations during this dialogue; and
as the doctor ended, he turned to the captain, who was overlooking a
game of chess between the colonel and Jane, of which the latter had
become remarkably fond of late, playing with her hands and eyes instead
of her feet--and inquired the name of the corps in barracks at F----.
"The ----th foot, sir," replied the captain, haughtily, who neither
respected him, owing to his want of consequence, nor loved him, from the
manner in which Emily listened to his conversation.
"Will Miss Moseley forgive a bold request," said Denbigh, with some
hesitation.
Emily looked up from her work in silence, but with some little
flutterings at the heart.
"The honor of her hand for the first dance," continued Denbigh,
observing she was in expectation that he would proceed.
Emily laughingly said, "Certainly, Mr. Denbigh, if you can submit to the
degradation."
The London papers now came in, and most of the gentlemen sat down to
their perusal. The colonel, however, replaced the men for a second game,
and Denbigh still kept his place beside Mrs. Wilson and her niece. The
manners, the sentiments, the whole exterior of this gentleman were such
as both the taste and judgment of the aunt approved of; his qualities
were those which insensibly gained on the heart, and yet Mrs. Wilson
noticed, with a slight uneasiness, the very evident satisfaction her
niece took in his society. In Dr. Ives she had great confidence, yet Dr.
Ives was a friend, and probably judged him favorably; and again, Dr.
Ives was not to suppose he was introducing a candidate for the hand of
Emily in every gentleman he brought to the hall. Mrs. Wilson had seen
too often the ill consequences of trusting to impressions received from
inferences of companionship, not to know the only safe way was to judge
for ourselves: the opinions of others might be partial--might be
prejudiced--and many an improper connexion had been formed by listening
to the sentiments of those who spoke without interest, and consequently
without examination. Not a few matches are made by this idle
commendation of others, uttered by those who are respected, and which
are probably suggested more by a desire to please than by reflection or
even knowledge. In short Mrs. Wilson knew that as our happiness chiefly
interests ourselves, so it was to ourselves, or to those few whose
interest was equal to our own, we could only trust those important
inquiries necessary to establish a permanent opinion of character. With
Doctor Ives her communications on subjects of duty were frequent and
confiding, and although she sometimes thought his benevolence disposed
him to be rather too lenient to the faults of mankind, she entertained a
profound respect for his judgment. It had great influence with her, if
it were not always conclusive; she determined, therefore, to have an
early conversation with him on the subject so near her heart, and be in
a great measure regulated by his answers in the steps to be immediately
taken. Every day gave her what he thought melancholy proof of the ill
consequences of neglecting a duty, in the increasing intimacy of Colonel
Egerton and Jane.
"Here, aunt," cried John, as he ran over a paper, "is a paragraph
relating to your favorite youth, our trusty and well beloved cousin the
Earl of Pendennyss."
"Read it," said Mrs. Wilson, with an interest his name never failed to
excite.
"We noticed to-day the equipage of the gallant Lord Pendennyss before
the gates of Annandale-house, and understand the noble earl is last from
Bolton castle, Northamptonshire."
"A very important fact," said Captain Jarvis, sarcastically; "Colonel
Egerton and myself got as far as the village, to pay our respects to
him, when we heard he had gone on to town."
"The earl's character, both as a man and a soldier," observed the
colonel, "gives him a claim to our attentions that his rank would not:
on that account we would have called."
"Brother," said Mrs. Wilson, "you would oblige me greatly by asking his
lordship to waive ceremony; his visits to Bolton castle will probably be
frequent, now we have peace; and the owner is so much from home that we
may never see him without some such invitation."
"Do you want him as a husband for Emily?" cried John, as he gaily seated
himself by the side of his sister.
Mrs. Wilson smiled at an observation which reminded her of one of her
romantic wishes; and as she raised her head to reply in the same tone,
met the eye of Denbigh fixed on her with an expression that kept her
silent. This is really an incomprehensible young man in some respects,
thought the cautious widow, his startling looks on the introduction to
the colonel crossing her mind at the same time; and observing the doctor
opening the door that led to the baronet's library, Mrs. Wilson, who
generally acted as soon as she had decided, followed him. As their
conversations were known often to relate to the little offices of
charity in which they both delighted, the movement excited no surprise,
and she entered the library with the doctor uninterrupted.
"Doctor," said Mrs. Wilson, impatient to proceed to the point, "you know
my maxim, prevention is better than cure. This young friend of yours is
very interesting."
"Do you feel yourself in danger?" said the rector, smiling.
"Not very imminent," replied the lady, laughing good-naturedly. Seating
herself, she continued, "Who is he? and who was his father, if I may
ask?"
"George Denbigh, madam, both father and son," said the doctor, gravely.
"Ah, doctor, I am almost tempted to wish Frank had been a girl. You know
what I wish to learn."
"Put your questions in order, dear madam," said the doctor, in a kind
manner, "and they shall be answered."
"His principles?"
"So far as I can learn, they are good. His acts, as they have come to my
notice, are highly meritorious, and I hope they originated in proper
motives. I have seen but little of him of late years, however, and on
this head you are nearly as good a judge as myself. His filial piety,"
said the doctor, dashing a tear from his eye, and speaking with fervor,
"was lovely."
"His temper--his disposition?"
"His temper is under great command, although naturally ardent; his
disposition eminently benevolent towards his fellow-creatures."
"His connexions?"
"Suitable," said the doctor, gravely.
His fortune was of but little moment. Emily would be amply provided, for
all the customary necessaries of her station; and, thanking the divine,
Mrs. Wilson returned to the parlor, easy in mind, and determined to let
things take their own course for a time, but in no degree to relax the
vigilance of her observation.
On her return to the room, Mrs. Wilson observed Denbigh approach
Egerton, and enter into conversation of a general nature. It was the
first time anything more than unavoidable courtesies had passed between
them. The colonel appeared slightly uneasy under his novel situation,
while, on the other hand, his companion showed an anxiety to be on a
more friendly footing than heretofore. There was something mysterious in
the feelings manifested by both these gentlemen that greatly puzzled the
good lady; and from its complexion, she feared one or the other was not
entirely free from censure. It could not have been a quarrel, or their
names would have been familiar to each other. They had both served in
Spain, she knew, and excesses were often committed by gentlemen at a
distance from home their pride would have prevented where they were
anxious to maintain a character. Gambling, and a few other prominent
vices, floated through her imagination, until, wearied of conjectures
where she had no data, and supposing, after all, it might be only her
imagination, the turned to more pleasant reflections.