He seemed abashed. I have not patience, but to recollect the specious
looks of this vile deceiver. But how was it possible, that even that
florid countenance of his should enable him to command a blush at his
pleasure? for blush he did, more than once: and the blush, on this
occasion, was a deep-dyed crimson, unstrained for, and natural, as I
thought—but he is so much of the actor, that he seems able to enter
into any character; and his muscles and features appear entirely under
obedience to his wicked will.*
* It is proper to observe, that there was a more natural reason than
this that the Lady gives for Mr. Lovelace’s blushing. It was a blush of
indignation, as he owned afterwards to his friend Belford, in
conversation; for the pretended Lady Betty had mistaken her cue, in
condemning the house; and he had much ado to recover the blunder; being
obliged to follow her lead, and vary from his first design; which was
to have the people of the house spoken well of, in order to induce her
to return to it, were it but on pretence to direct her clothes to be
carried to Hampstead.
The pretended lady went on, saying, she had taken upon herself to
inquire after the people, on hearing that I had left the house in
disgust; and though she heard not any thing much amiss, yet she heard
enough to make her wonder that he could carry his spouse, a person of
so much delicacy, to a house, that, if it had not a bad fame, had not a
good one.
You must think, my dear, that I liked the pretended Lady Betty the
better for this. I suppose it was designed that I should.
He was surprised, he said, that her Ladyship should hear a bad
character of the people. It was what he had never before heard that
they deserved. It was easy, indeed, to see, that they had not very
great delicacy, though they were not indelicate. The nature of their
livelihood, letting lodgings, and taking people to board, (and yet he
had understood that they were nice in these particulars,) led them to
aim at being free and obliging: and it was difficult, he said, for
persons of cheerful dispositions, so to behave as to avoid censure:
openness of heart and countenance in the sex (more was the pity) too
often subjected good people, whose fortunes did not set them above the
world, to uncharitable censure.
He wished, however, that her Ladyship would tell what she had heard:
although now it signified but little, because he would never ask me to
set foot within their doors again: and he begged she would not mince
the matter.
Nay, no great matter, she said. But she had been informed, that there
were more women-lodgers in the house than men: yet that their visiters
were more men than women. And this had been hinted to her (perhaps by
ill-wishers, she could not answer for that) in such a way, as if
somewhat further were meant by it than was spoken.
This, he said, was the true innuendo-way of characterizing, used by
detractors. Every body and every thing had a black and a white side, of
which well wishers and ill wishers may make their advantage. He had
observed that the front house was well let, and he believed more to the
one sex than to the other; for he had seen, occasionally passing to or
fro, several genteel modest looking women; and who, it was very
probable, were not so ill-beloved, but they might have visiters and
relations of both sexes: but they were none of them any thing to us, or
we to them: we were not once in any of their companies: but in the
genteelest and most retired house of the two, which we had in a manner
to ourselves, with the use of a parlour to the street, to serve us for
a servants’ hall, or to receive common visiters, or our traders only,
whom we admitted not up stairs.
He always loved to speak as he found. No man in the world had suffered
more from calumny than he himself had done.
Women, he owned, ought to be more scrupulous than men needed to be
where they lodged. Nevertheless he wished that fact, rather than
surmise, were to be the foundation of their judgments, especially when
they spoke of one another.
He meant no reflection upon her Ladyship’s informants, or rather
surmisants, (as he might call them,) be they who they would: nor did he
think himself obliged to defend characters impeached, or not thought
well of, by women of virtue and honour. Neither were these people of
importance enough to have so much said about them.
The pretended Lady Betty said, all who knew her, would clear her of
censoriousness: that it gave her some opinion, she must needs say, of
the people, that he had continued there so long with me; that I had
rather negative than positive reasons of dislike to them; and that so
shrewd a man as she heard Captain Tomlinson was had not objected to
them.
I think, niece Charlotte, proceeded she, as my nephew had not parted
with these lodgings, you and I, (for, as my dear Miss Harlowe dislikes
the people, I would not ask her for her company) will take a dish of
tea with my nephew there, before we go out of town; and then we shall
see what sort of people they are. I have heard that Mrs. Sinclair is a
mighty forbidding creature.
With all my heart, Madam. In your Ladyship’s company I shall make no
scruple of going any where.
It was Ladyship at every word; and as she seemed proud of her title,
and of her dress too, I might have guessed that she was not used to
either.
What say you, cousin Lovelace? Lady Sarah, though a melancholy woman,
is very inquisitive about all your affairs. I must acquaint her with
every particular circumstance when I go down.
With all his heart. He would attend her whenever she pleased. She would
see very handsome apartments, and very civil people.
The deuce is in them, said the Miss Montague, if they appear other to
us.
She then fell into family talk; family happiness on my hoped-for
accession into it. They mentioned Lord M.’s and Lady Sarah’s great
desire to see me: how many friends and admirers, with uplift hands, I
should have! [Oh! my dear, what a triumph must these creatures, and he,
have over the poor devoted all the time!]—What a happy man he would
be!—They would not, the Lady Betty said, give themselves the
mortification but to suppose that I should not be one of them!
Presents were hinted at. She resolved that I should go with her to
Glenham-hall. She would not be refused, although she were to stay a
week beyond her time for me.
She longed for the expected letter from you. I must write to hasten it,
and to let Miss Howe know how every thing stood since I wrote last.
That might dispose me absolutely in her favour and in her nephew’s; and
then she hoped there would be no occasion for me to think of entering
upon any new measures.
Indeed, my dear, I did at the time intend, if I heard not from you by
morning, to dispatch a man and horse to you, with the particulars of
all, that you might (if you thought proper) at least put off Mrs.
Townsend’s coming up to another day.—But I was miserably prevented.
She made me promise that I would write to you upon this subject,
whether I heard from you or not. One of her servants should ride post
with my letter, and wait for Miss Howe’s answer.
She then launched out in deserved praises of you, my dear. How fond she
should be of the honour of your acquaintance.
The pretended Miss Montague joined in with her, as well for herself as
for her sister.
Abominably well instructed were they both!
O my dear! what risks may poor giddy girls run, when they throw
themselves out of the protection of their natural friends, and into the
wide world!
They then talked again of reconciliation and intimacy with every one of
my friends; with my mother particularly; and gave the dear good lady
the praises that every one gives her, who has the happiness to know
her.
Ah, my dear Miss Howe! I had almost forgot my resentments against the
pretended nephew!—So many agreeable things said, made me think, that,
if you should advise it, and if I could bring my mind to forgive the
wretch for an outrage so premeditatedly vile, and could forbear
despising him for that and his other ungrateful and wicked ways, I
might not be unhappy in an alliance with such a family. Yet, thought I
at the time, with what intermixture does every thing come to me that
had the appearance of good!——However, as my lucid hopes made me see
fewer faults in the behaviour of these pretended ladies, than
recollection and abhorrence have helped me since to see, I began to
reproach myself, that I had not at first thrown myself into their
protection.
But amidst all these delightful prospects, I must not, said the Lady
Betty, forget that I am to go to town.
She then ordered her coach to be got to the door.—We will all go to
town together, said she, and return together. Morrison shall stay here,
and see every thing as I am used to have it, in relation to my
apartment, and my bed; for I am very particular in some respects. My
cousin Leeson’s servants can do all I want to be done with regard to my
night-dresses, and the like. And it will be a little airing for you, my
dear, and a want of your apparel to be sent from your former lodgings
to Mrs. Leeson’s; and we can bring it up with us from thence.
I had no intention to comply. But as I did not imagine that she would
insist upon my going to town with them, I made no answer to that part
of her speech.