At your request, Sir Harry--But not at Sir Charles's.
This is noble, said I. I thank you, madam, for the absent youth. Both
husband and son will think themselves favoured by you; and the more, as I
am sure, that you will by the cheerful welcome, which you will give the
young man, shew, that it is a sincere compliment that you have made to
Sir Harry.
This man has a strange way of flattering one into acts of--of--what shall
I call them?--But, Sir Harry, Mr. Beauchamp must not, I believe, live
with us--
Sir Harry hesitated.
I was afraid of opening the wound. I have a request to make to you both,
said I. It is this; that Mr. Beauchamp may be permitted to live with me;
and attend you, madam, and his father, as a visitor, at your own command.
My sister, I believe, will be very soon married to Lord G----.
That is to be certainly so, interrupted the lady?
It is, madam.
But what shall we say, my dear, resumed Sir Harry--Don't fly out again--
As to the provision for my son?--Two hundred a year--What is two hundred
a year----
Why then let it be three, answered she.
I have a handsome and improvable estate, said I. I have no demands but
those of reason upon me. I would not offer a plea for his coming to
England, (and I am sure he would not have come, if I had,) without his
father's consent: in which, madam, he hoped for yours. You shall not,
sir, allow him either the two or three hundred a year. See him with
love, with indulgence (he will deserve both;) and think not of any thing
else for my Beauchamp.
There is no bearing this, my dear, said Sir Harry; leaning upon his
lady's shoulder, as he sat, tears in his eyes--My son is already, as I
have heard, greatly obliged to this his true friend--Do you, do you,
madam, answer for me, and for yourself.
She was overcome: yet pride had its share with generosity. You are, said
she, the Grandison I have heard of: but I will not be under obligations
to you--not pecuniary ones, however. No, Sir Harry! Recall your son: I
will trust to your love: do for him what you please: let him be
independent on this insolent man; [She said this with a smile, that made
it obliging;] and if we are to be visitors, friends, neighbours, let it
be on an equal foot, and let him have nothing to reproach us with.
I was agreeably surprised at this emanation (shall I call it?) of
goodness: she is really not a bad woman, but a perverse one; in short,
one of those whose passions, when rightly touched, are liable to sudden
and surprising turns.
Generous, charming Lady Beauchamp! said I: now are you the woman, whom I
have so often heard praised for many good qualities: now will the
portrait be a just one!
Sir Harry was in raptures; but had like to have spoiled all, by making me
a compliment on the force of example.
Be this, said I, the result--Mr. Beauchamp comes over. He will be
pleased with whatever you do: at your feet, madam, he shall acknowledge
your favour: My home shall be his, if you permit it: On me, he shall
confer obligations; from you, he shall receive them. If any
considerations of family prudence (there are such, and very just ones)
restrain you from allowing him, at present, what your generosity would
wish to do--
Lady Beauchamp's colour was heightened: She interrupted me--We are not,
Sir Charles, so scanty in our fortune--
Well, my dear Lady Beauchamp, be all that as you will: not one retrospect
of the past--
Yes, Sir Charles, but there shall: his allowance has been lessened for
some years; not from considerations of family prudence--But--Well, 'tis
all at an end, proceeded she--When the young man returns, you, Sir Harry,
for my sake, and for the sake of this strange unaccountable creature,
shall pay him the whole arrear.
Now, my dear Lady Beauchamp, said I, listing her hand to my lips, permit
me to give you joy. All doubts and misgivings so triumphantly got over,
so solid a foundation laid for family harmony--What was the moment of
your nuptials to this? Sir Harry, I congratulate you: you may, and I
believe you have been, as happy as most men; but now, you will be still
happier.
Indeed, Sir Harry, said she, you provoked me in the morning: I should not
else--
Sir Harry owned himself to blame; and thus the lady's pride was set down
softly.
She desired Sir Harry to write, before the day concluded, the invitation
of return, to Mr. Beauchamp; and to do her all the credit in it that she
might claim from the last part of the conversation; but not to mention
any thing of the first.
She afterwards abated a little of this right spirit, by saying, I think,
Sir Harry, you need not mention any thing of the arrears, as I may call
them--But only the future 600£. a year. One would surprise him a little,
you know, and be twice thanked--
Surprises of such a nature as this, my dear Dr. Bartlett; pecuniary
surprises!--I don't love them--They are double taxes upon the gratitude
of a worthy heart. Is it not enough for a generous mind to labour under
a sense of obligation?--Pride, vain-glory, must be the motive of such
narrow-minded benefactors: a truly beneficent spirit cannot take delight
in beholding the quivering lip indicating the palpitating heart; in
seeing the downcast countenance, the up-lifted hands, and working
muscles, of a fellow-creature, who, but for unfortunate accidents, would
perhaps himself have had the will, with the power, of shewing a more
graceful benevolence!
I was so much afraid of hearing farther abatements of Lady Beauchamp's
goodness; so willing to depart with favourable impressions of her for her
own sake; and at the same time so desirous to reach the Hall that night;
that I got myself excused, though with difficulty, staying to dine; and
accepting of a dish of chocolate, I parted with Sir Harry and my lady,
both in equal good humour with themselves and me.
Could you have thought, my dear friend, that I should have succeeded so
very happily, as I have done, in this affair, and at one meeting?
I think that the father and stepmother should have the full merit with
our Beauchamp of a turn so unexpected. Let him not therefore ever see
this letter, that he may take his impression of the favour done him, from
that which Sir Harry will write to him.
My cousin Grandison, whom I hoped to find here, left the Hall on Tuesday
last, though he knew of my intention to be down. I am sorry for it.
Poor Everard! He has been a great while pretty good. I am afraid he
will get among his old acquaintance; and then we shall not hear of him
for some months perhaps. If you see him in town, try to engage him, till
I return. I should be glad of his company to Paris, if his going with
me, will keep him out of harm's way, as it is called.
***