Overcome him then by your generosity. But, dear Lady Beauchamp, taking
both her hands, and smiling confidently in her face, [I could, my dear
Dr. Bartlett, do so to Lady Beauchamp,] will you make me believe, that a
woman of your spirit (you have a charming spirit, Lady Beauchamp) did not
give Sir Harry as much reason to complain, as he gave you?--I am sure by
his disturbed countenance--
Now, Sir Charles Grandison, you are downright affronting. Unhand me!
This misunderstanding is owing to my officious letter. I should have
waited on you in person. I should from the first have put it in your
power, to do a graceful and obliging thing. I ask your pardon. I am not
used to make differences between man and wife.
I touched first one hand, then the other, of the perverse baby with my
lips--Now am I forgiven: now is my friend Beauchamp permitted to return
to his native country: now are Sir Harry and his Lady reconciled--Come,
come, madam, it must be so--What foolish things are the quarrels of
married people!--They must come to an agreement again; and the sooner the
better; before hard blows are struck, that will leave marks--Let us, dear
madam, find out Sir Harry--
And then, with an air of vivacity, that women, whether in courtship or
out of it, dislike not, I was leading her once more to the door, and, as
I intended, to Sir Harry, wherever he could be found.
Hold, hold, sir! resisting; but with features far more placid than she
had suffered to be before visible--If I must be compelled--You are a
strange man, Sir Charles Grandison--If I must be compelled to see Sir
Harry--But you are a strange man--And she rang the bell.
Lady Beauchamp, Dr. Bartlett, is one of those who would be more ready to
forgive an innocent freedom, than to be gratified by a profound respect;
otherwise I had not treated her with so little ceremony. Such women are
formidable only to those who are afraid of their anger, or who make it a
serious thing.
But when the servant appeared, she not knowing how to condescend, I said,
Go to your master, sir, and tell him that your lady requests the
favour--
Requests the favour! repeated she; but in a low voice: which was no bad
sign.
The servant went with a message worded with more civility than perhaps he
was used to carry to his master from his lady.
Now, dear Lady Beauchamp, for your own sake; for Sir Harry's sake; make
happy; and be happy. Are there not, dear madam, unhappinesses enow in
life, that we must wilfully add to them?
Sir Harry came in sight. He stalked towards us with a parade like that
of a young officer wanting to look martial at the head of his company.
Could I have seen him before he entered, my work would have been easier.
But his hostile air disposed my lady to renew hostilities.
She turned her face aside, then her person; and the cloudy indignation
with which she entered at first, again overspread her features. Ought
wrath, Dr. Bartlett, to be so ready to attend a female will?--Surely,
thought I, my lady's present airs, after what has passed between her and
me, can be only owing to the fear of making a precedent, and being
thought too easily persuaded.
Sir Harry, said I, addressing myself to him, I have obtained Lady
Beauchamp's pardon for the officious letter--
Pardon, Sir Charles Grandison! You are a good man, and it was kindly
intended--
He was going on: anger from his eyes flashed upon his cheek-bones, and
made them shine. My lady's eyes struck fire at Sir Harry, and shewed
that she was not afraid of him.
Better intended, than done, interrupted I, since my lady tells me, that
it was the occasion of a misunderstanding--But, sir, all will be right:
my lady assures me, that you are not disinclined to comply with the
contents; and she has the goodness--