What whispers must the beauty hear!
What hourly nonsense haunts her ear!
Where'er her eyes dispense their charms,
Impertinence around her swarms.
GAY.
The next morning Selina arose unrefreshed. She could not in any way
reconcile to her satisfaction the expression of Mordaunt's countenance,
when her eyes met his, and his apparently evident design of shunning her
society. "It is so odd," thought she, "he should never have called to
see me. He must have known by the newspapers that we were come to town;
and then he hardly spoke three words to me all last night, yet his looks
were kinder than ever. Well, I think he'll certainly call to-day." As
she thus concluded her soliloquy, she turned once more to her
looking-glass, and, as she revised her dress, an involuntary smile
played on her lip, as she felt convinced that the negligence of her
morning costume was not less becoming than her evening attire had been.
Often, as the hours rolled heavily on, did she saunter to the window,
and gaze up and down the square, in hopes of descrying Augustus; and
often, notwithstanding her mortification, did she smile at her own
ridiculous mistakes, as she still fancied every distant passenger must
be he, whether tall or short, thick or thin, old or young, ugly or
handsome. At last, in despair, she retired to her boudoir, and resumed
her drawing; while Lady Eltondale, who was by no means unmindful of her
evident restlessness, made no remark upon the subject. At last a loud
knock proclaimed the arrival of visitors. Selina started from her seat,
and as instantaneously resumed it. In a moment a footman appeared, with
"My Lady's compliments, and begs to see you in the drawing-room,
ma'am." Selina's heart beat at the unusual summons, while her trembling
limbs scarcely supported her as she prepared to obey it. Great then was
her disappointment on entering the room, to be overwhelmed at once with
the united compliments of the whole Webberly family. She had scarcely
presence of mind sufficient to reply to their various civilities; but
fortunately their own anxiety to assume the feelings they deemed
appropriate to the occasion, left them no time to investigate those that
actually agitated her.
Lady Eltondale soon relieved her from her embarrassment. "Selina, Mrs.
Sullivan has been good enough to call for the purpose of taking you to
see the exhibition at Somerset House: I know you will be delighted to
attend her." Selina turned full round to her aunt with a look of
astonishment. She could not believe, that Lady Eltondale had consented
to let her go into public with the very people, whom, of all others,
she had most frequently ridiculed, against whose society she had most
frequently inveighed. Lady Eltondale met her wondering gaze with an
unmoved countenance; and ringing the bell, "Go, my love," said she, "and
equip yourself as quickly as possible: I will desire John to send Watson
to you, that no time may be lost; and I will either send my carriage, or
call for you myself, to save Mrs. Sullivan the trouble of bringing you
home." Selina perceived, that excuse or reply would be of no avail; and,
before her surprise was abated, she found herself unwillingly seated as
a fifth in Mrs. Sullivan's ostentatious equipage.
Little could the artless girl divine the real motive for the
Viscountess' singular deviation from her professed rule of allowing
Selina no other Chaperone than herself. In truth Mordaunt had called in
Portman-square more than once, and had never been admitted; a
circumstance which he had hitherto wished to attribute either to the
mistake of the porter, or to the design of the aunt.
But Selina's manner and looks had been so contradictory, and her whole
conduct had, in his opinion, so nearly approached to caprice, that he
determined to ascertain whether it were possible she could indeed be
accessary to his exclusion. He therefore took the opportunity, while
Selina was moving towards the music-room, to ask Lady Eltondale's
decided leave to wait on her the next day. The Viscountess, nicely
discriminating between Lord Osselstone's nephew and Sir Henry Seymour's
_ÈlËve_, most graciously granted the permission he solicited;
determining at the same to pretend, when he called, that Selina had gone
out, even had a less favourable opportunity occurred of ensuring her
actually having done so. While, then, poor Selina was taken away so much
against her own inclination, Mordaunt approached Portman-square. At one
moment he recalled to his mind, with gratitude and delight, Selina's
mute but eloquent application for his approval of her talents: at the
next, his heart sunk as he recollected the possibility, that those
talents were thus sedulously cultivated for another. "But," thought he,
"I am determined to ascertain her real sentiments; perhaps Lady
Eltondale obliged her to send me that cruel message; perhaps her heart
is yet unchanged; or," continued he, his passion rising at the
recollection of the fatal letter, "perhaps she is only influenced by
that despicable vanity of her sex, which makes them seek the applause of
all, while they return the love of none. But why torture myself thus?
her own conduct will best explain itself." Then, commanding all his
fortitude to bear the trial, with as much composure as he could assume,
he entered Lady Eltondale's drawing-room. She received him with that
grace by which she was so peculiarly distinguished, and with an air of
unembarrassed kindness, that might have deluded one more experienced. To
his inquiries for Selina she replied, with an air of perfect candour,
"She is gone to take a drive with Mrs. Sullivan; I postponed mine," she
continued, with a gracious smile, "as you had promised to call on _us_;
but, you know, Selina is very young, and London sights are quite new to
her. We must all make allowances for the heedlessness of youth," added
she, in a tone of compassion. "When I answered Frederick's question,
whether her character was as perfect as he remembered her person
promised to be, I reminded him that 'most women have no characters at
all;' and prepared, him for her volatility, which is indeed her
principal, if not her only fault. She too is prepared for----" Mordaunt
could not bear to hear the sentence finished. "Is not that my uncle's
curricle?" said he, starting up, and going to the window. His fair
hostess used no further effort to prolong his visit; and as soon as
politeness permitted, he took his leave, with feelings which, if Lady
Eltondale could have understood, even she perhaps would have pitied.
Meantime Selina proceeded towards Somerset House. It was a delightful
day; and the rapid motion of the carriage, the gaiety of the streets,
and even a faint hope that she might, perhaps, meet Mordaunt in her
drive, all contributed to raise her spirits. At last, as the carriage
experienced a momentary stop in Bond-street, Selina heard her own name
pronounced by a voice not unfamiliar to her ear, and hastily turning to
the speaker, she recognized Mr. Sedley. To inquire where she resided,
where she was going, and whether he might join the party, was the
occupation of a moment. It was settled, that he and Webberly should walk
to Somerset House, as, exclaimed the latter half aloud, "Egad, it is
too bad to be boxed up here with my mother and sisters, even for the
sake of the heiress." "Vell," said his mother, as she expanded her ample
petticoats over the small space she had hitherto permitted him to
occupy, "I'm sure that's a good riddance of bad rubbish at all events;
not but Jack's a good-natured feller as ever lived, though he has sadly
muffled me, to be sure." They reached Somerset House before Mrs.
Sullivan had fully arranged her draperies, and before Selina had time to
express half her regrets at hearing Miss Wildenheim had been left in the
country, but not before the gentlemen arrived to hand them out of their
carriage. Here Selina's attention was delightedly engaged in examining
the various specimens of her favourite art, with which she was
surrounded. Nor could the outrageous compliments of Webberly, the
vociferous vulgarity of his mother and sisters, or the easy vivacious
gallantry of Sedley, divert her from her admiration of them, till Lady
Eltondale called to take her home. As the aunt and niece returned,
neither of them articulated the name of him, who principally occupied
the thoughts of both. But no sooner did they reach Portman-square, than
Selina, running hastily up stairs, tossed over the numberless cards that
had been left in her absence by the different beaux who had been there
the night before, and a sigh escaped her as she became unwillingly
convinced, that Mordaunt's only was not to be found.
Lord Eltondale seldom joined the circle in which alone his Viscountess
condescended to move; and, except in very large assemblies, either at
home or abroad, they were seldom seen together.
The same undistinguishing kindness still marked his manner to Selina,
which she had experienced on her first reception at Eltondale; and he
continued to think of her as a pretty, lively, good-humoured girl, but
he had neither time nor talent to ascertain whether she was a _happy_
one; indeed he never thought about her, except when she was present; and
thus the occasional depression of her spirits, which was so new in the
history of Selina's life, passed unnoticed both by the Viscount and his
Lady, from the total want of reflection in the character of the one, and
the refinement of duplicity in the other.
On the evening of the day in which Selina visited Somerset House, she
accompanied Lady Eltondale to the Opera. She had never yet been in any
theatre. What then were her sensations, when, on the door of her aunt's
box being opened, she beheld, at one _coup d'oeil_, the assembled
magnificence of the stage, presented in the last act of a beautiful
ballet, and that of the audience, which seemed ranged round more to
increase than to enjoy the splendor of the spectacle? To those who have
beheld such a scene, with as little experience, and as much capability
of enjoyment as Selina possessed, no description of its effects would be
necessary; and to those who have not, no words could give an adequate
idea of her delight. Lady Eltondale's box was soon filled with
gentlemen, but nothing had, at first, the power of diverting Selina's
attention from the stage, whilst the _naÔvetÈ_ of her remarks, and the
varying expression of her countenance, gave her every moment new charms.
Amongst the rest Sir James Fenton and Lord George Meredith were most
obsequious in their attentions, and loudest in their encomiums. She had
just turned her head, to listen to a curious account the latter was
giving of his having been once introduced to Mrs. Sullivan and her
daughters, and was laughing heartily at his ridiculous imitation of
their manners, when her eye caught that of Mordaunt, who was standing in
the pit at no great distance. But his fine countenance no longer bore
that expression, which she had so fondly treasured in her memory. He
stood gazing at her, with a cold, almost contemptuous steadiness: no
beam of tenderness softened the brilliancy of his penetrating eye, that
seemed to dart into her very soul. She coloured, and returned his half
salute with one still more expressive of indignant pride; and, with
increased vivacity, renewed her conversation with Lord George Meredith.
Mordaunt did not visit their box the whole evening, though Lord
Osselstone staid in it for some time, occasionally smiling, and
sometimes even calling forth Selina's observations on the scene, to her
so replete with novelty and attraction: while once or twice following
the direction of her unconscious glance, his eyes were directed to an
opposite box, where Augustus seemed to be evidently renewing his devoirs
to the pretty Miss Webster, to whom, as Selina thought, he had been so
unnecessarily civil at Lady Eltondale's assembly.
At last, as the closing scene was almost finished, and the Viscountess
was preparing to leave her box, escorted by Sir James Fenton, the door
was suddenly opened by Sedley, who came to attend Selina to her
carriage; she gave a smothered sigh as she thought "Augustus would once
have done the same," but accepted the proffered civility, after having
introduced him to Lady Eltondale; who was already well acquainted with
him by name, as Frederick Elton's friend and correspondent, and
therefore she thought him a most desirable attendant on Selina. Thus
escorted, they hastened to their carriage, and drove without delay to
join another crowd, at the Duchess of Saltoun's ball. And here Selina
was, as usual, admired, followed, and flattered. Lord George Meredith
and Sedley had both engaged her, before they left the Opera, to dance;
and as it was one of her favorite amusements, she quickly entered into
all the gaiety that surrounded her, with that vivacity which is so
natural to youth, and so peculiarly belonging to her character.
Mordaunt, for the moment, was forgotten; or if his image intruded on her
mind, it rose as a dark cloud, that threw a gloomy shade on her present
pleasure, and served but to make her turn to the joys of dissipation
with increased avidity, as an antidote to its saddening influence. Is it
to be wondered at, that a girl so totally inexperienced as Selina was,
should yield a little to the many temptations that now surrounded her?
Without any calm, steady friend, whose sobered reflection would have
served as a counterpoise to her natural volatility, she found herself
suddenly transported from the deepest shade of retirement to the
brightest blaze of fashion.
Her youth, her beauty, her fortune, all conspired to place her in the
foremost rank of praise.--All the young men professing themselves her
admirers, all the women her friends.--Could she for a moment doubt
their sincerity being equal to her own? And could it be supposed, that,
believing their truth, she should be wholly insensible to such
unexpected adulation?