When the Wetheral party entered the crowded dancing-room at Lady
Spottiswoode's, they caused considerable sensation. It was now publicly
known that Lord Ennismore was the accepted lover of Miss Julia
Wetheral, and the young couple were gazed at with untired wonder.
Each countenance was well known to the company: Miss Julia Wetheral
and young Lord Ennismore had frequented every fashionable place of
rendezvous for the last three months, yet their engagement evidently
procured each personage extraordinary power of novelty.
Eyes which had scarcely allowed a glance to the uninviting figure
of Lord Ennismore, gazed now earnestly upon his person, because he
came as the acknowledged lover of the handsome Julia Wetheral, and
every gentleman glanced with heightened interest and admiration at
Julia, because she was no longer of their number to win and to receive
their homage. Julia Wetheral now belonged to Lord Ennismore, and her
brilliant light must soon disappear from their hemisphere: she was
going to throw herself away, they affirmed, upon a fellow unworthy of
such a prize. Could she really love such a poor, sickly creature? far
better have taken Tom Pynsent.
Julia was the star of the evening, from the contending opinions which
circulated upon the subject of her engagement. She was, however,
innocent of the sensation she occasioned. Leaning on the arm of her
affianced, and accompanied by Lady Ennismore, Julia passed through the
groupes who watched her progress, and gave no thought to the whispered
observations that floated around her. She was truly happy, truly
blessed in her own bright mental anticipations, and in the company
of those she loved. She heard no sounds but the heavy enunciation of
Ennismore, and the sprightly musical tones of her ladyship. She saw no
one distinctly, not even Tom Pynsent, who stood bolt upright before her
party, with a remarkably red face. He addressed Miss Wetheral.
"I am getting a disagreeable thing over, Miss Wetheral. I heard Miss
Julia was engaged to that young sprig after all, and I knew I must meet
her some time or other, so I am prepared to do it at once."
Julia at that moment caught his eye, and Tom Pynsent bowed with
tolerable command of manner.
"There, that is over. I wish your sister had given herself to a better
sort of fellow. That Lord Ennismore, Miss Wetheral, should not carry
such a jewel away from us. She did right to refuse me, if I did not
please her fancy, but she ought to have chosen a more likely upstanding
fellow than the Staffordshire earl."
Anna Maria smiled complacently at the sound of Tom Pynsent's voice, but
the subject was distressing. She could not trust herself to continue
it. Tom Pynsent nodded and smiled to a group at some distance.
"There's Wycherly and Tyndal wishing me joy. They watched me bow to
your sister. I'll just tell them they are d--d rascals for their
pains."
Tom Pynsent walked away to put his threat in execution, but the
congratulations of the gentlemen overpowered him.
"I say, Pynsent, you bowed like Sir Charles Grandison."
"Pynsent, that was mortal agony, wasn't it?"
"Tom's a cold," cried young Spottiswoode.
"You are all welcome to laugh, gentlemen," said Tom Pynsent, in his
invariably good-natured manner. "Some of you are merry because you have
not been refused by a woman you like, and half of you rejoice to find
the mortification extended to another besides yourselves."
Mr. Wycherly turned towards Mr. Pynsent. "My dear fellow, you cause
your own vexation by hunting after a woman who does not care for you.
Most men run after shadows, and cast away substance. I married Mrs.
Wycherly because she took a fancy to me, and let me see at once what
she wished and expected. Faith, it saved me a great deal of trouble!"
"But no girl cares for me, unless she longs for my money," exclaimed
Pynsent, feelingly.
"Zounds, man, don't be crestfallen. I know a fine woman at this moment,
and in this room, who would take you penniless!"
Tom Pynsent looked aghast.
"Every body but yourself has observed the thing," said young
Spottiswoode. "Haven't they, Tyndal?"
"Where are your eyes, Pynsent?" asked Mr. Vyvyan. "I detected the lady
the moment you addressed her."
"'Love in her eyes for ever plays,'" sang Mr. Wycherly. "'It makes her
rosy lips his care.'"
"'And walks the mazes of her hair,'" added Mr. Vyvyan.
Tom Pynsent gazed on each speaker in silent amazement: no pencil could
pourtray the workings of his countenance.
"Who would sorrow for the cold-hearted, when a handsome girl worships
the ground one treads upon?" cried Mr. John Tyndal. "Not I for one."
"I wish she would give _me_ one of those dovelike glances she bestows
upon the dull-headed Pynsent," sighed Mr. Henry Tyndal.
"By Jove, gentlemen, I don't consider myself dull!" at last Tom Pynsent
burst forth. "I know many ladies who would like to live at Hatton,
though they care little enough about its master; but I deny your
present statement. Who is the lady you allude to?"
"Go and ask Miss Wetheral to dance, Pynsent, and she will assist you in
solving our riddle," said Mr. Wycherly, laughing.
"Good heavens! if a woman looked in my eyes, as I saw a lady consulting
yours just now, Pynsent, I should feel myself called upon to fall
desperately in love," observed his friend Vyvyan.
"God bless my soul! do you mean that _Miss_ Wetheral likes me?"
Tom Pynsent uttered the question with an agitated and hurried tone
of voice, which caused a general laugh among his auditors, but Mr.
Wycherly spoke seriously and looked in earnest.
"You were in love with her sister, Pynsent, and had no time to observe
other women. Every one else could read in the expression of Miss
Wetheral's manner and countenance her decided liking for you."
"God bless my soul!" again ejaculated Tom Pynsent, "I never saw her
look me in the face in my life!"
"My dear fellow, you are as green as a girl in her sixteenth year.
Do you fancy a woman stares at you by way of shewing her true love?
Her downcast looks and melancholy appearance betray her. She only
brightens up when you address her, and to all other men she is cold
as an iceberg. Such are Miss Wetheral's symptoms, and such are all
delicate-minded women's manners, when they are not hunting down a
fortune. I know the sex, Pynsent."
"Such a woman is worth a thousand scornful dames," remarked old Mr.
Tyndal.
"Pynsent looks petrified!" exclaimed young Spottiswoode.
"Pynsent at fault, by the Lord Harry!" laughed his friend Vyvyan.
"Cold scent, Pynsent, after your late run," cried Spottiswoode,
entertained beyond measure at poor Tom's _égaré_ looks.
The group of gentlemen rallied unmercifully their bewildered companion
upon his dull reception of a piece of intelligence which would have
raised any other man from the dead. Tom Pynsent's temper stood all
jibes with unwearied patience, and when his mind had somewhat recovered
the standard of its usual tone, he rebutted their attacks in his own
loud tone of voice.
"I don't mind any of your jokes; if a woman likes me seriously, I
shall be sure to return it, and be very much obliged to her. I like
Miss Wetheral very much, but I did not suppose she cared for me; how
could I?"
"Why, you flirted with her abominably, once," remarked young
Spottiswoode.
"Yes, perhaps I did so, but I had no idea she minded my nonsense."
"Young girls are easily caught, Pynsent, at first coming out. You
certainly trifled with poor Miss Wetheral," said Mr. Tyndal.
"Did I? then I'll be hanged if I don't marry her!"
A roar of laughter followed this announcement, but Tom Pynsent was
nothing daunted; he coolly withdrew from his companions, and sought
Anna Maria, who received him with placid manners, and suppressed
pleasure.
Tom Pynsent was now enlightened on one material point; and his vanity
was touched, by the knowledge that the beautiful Miss Wetheral, so
remarkable for her loveliness and extraordinary coldness of manner,
did indeed love him in silence, above all his companions, and
independently of Hatton! She had loved him in spite of his proposal to
her sister! She had borne the knowledge of her sister's rivalship in
patient gentleness! She was at that moment receiving him with kind and
conciliating manners, though she knew he had asked another to be his
wife! Tom Pynsent's heart did justice to her suffering and affection;
and he mentally vowed he would secure a prize so long unvalued,
because so totally misunderstood. From that moment he attached himself
exclusively to Miss Wetheral.
How did the hours glide by that eventful evening, in the imagination of
the two happy sisters! How triumphant did Lady Wetheral appear as she
glanced at both daughters!
There was Lord Ennismore publicly displaying his engagement with Julia,
and Tom Pynsent was stationed at the side of Anna Maria, in deep, and,
apparently, agreeable discourse. Her triumph was commented upon, by the
Mesdames Tyndal and Pynsent.
"Oh, be hanged to her!" cried the latter lady, "she has got one
daughter hooked on Ennismore, and now she's driving at Tom: only watch
her manœuvres. I knew what she was at, Mrs. Tyndal, when she made
her visit to Court Herbert some years ago. Miss Wetheral was a child,
but I smoked the meaning of it. She was vapouring then, after Tom."
"Lady Wetheral has been very fortunate with her daughters," replied
Mrs. Tyndal. "Mr. Boscawen was an eligible match, and Lord Ennismore of
course, in the eye of the world, is of still higher consideration."
"I think, if I had ten portionless daughters, I would not give one of
them to that poor decayed fellow, and as I always told my son, Tom; 'If
you bring me home a Wetheral, I'll be hanged if I receive her, and my
word is as good as your own.'"
Mrs. Tyndal was accustomed to her companion's manly style of
expression; so indeed was every family in the county. Mrs. Pynsent
was tolerated in her youth on account of her large fortune; she was
tolerated in middle-life as the mistress of Hatton; she was sought in
her old age, as the mother of her son Tom. Thus Mrs. Pynsent passed
through society without a single accomplishment, or even the attributes
of a female, supported by the powerful shield of wealth, and feared for
the determination of her sentiments and the coarseness of her remarks,
by all her acquaintance.
Separated from her masculine propensities, Mrs. Pynsent was a
warm-hearted, well-meaning person, and many young people could bear
witness, that if Mrs. Pynsent often offended their ears, or dealt
a merciless blow at their vanity, she had also befriended them in
their need, and in sorrow or sickness, there was none kinder, or more
patient. Why Mrs. Pynsent spoke so bitterly against a "Wetheral" never
could be divined; probably some early prejudice influenced her in
deprecating the name.
Mrs. Tyndal expressed surprise at Mrs. Pynsent's observation to her son.
"Really, Mrs. Pynsent, I cannot agree with you in such very determined
dislike to the Miss Wetherals. I think my sons might make a far worse
choice than either lady present."
"By Jove!" replied Mrs. Pynsent, shrugging her shoulders, "I hope Tom
will never choose an empty doll from Wetheral: my brother Wycherly
hinted to me the other day Tom had been disappointed of one of them,
but I gave him my thoughts upon the matter: 'Bill,' I said, 'if any
man could prove to me my son Tom had made an offer to a Wetheral, I'd
kick him down stairs for his pains, and out of the Hatton grounds.' My
brother Bill never renewed that subject!"
Mrs. Tyndal glanced towards Anna Maria, who was still engaged in
conversation with Tom Pynsent, and a smile passed over her face. Mrs.
Pynsent caught the smile and look.
"Oh, you need not think about Tom in that quarter!" she observed. "Tom
knows I hate the name."
At that moment Miss Wetheral and her companion joined the dancers.
"Your son distinguishes Miss Wetheral to-night," said her friend, with
rather more _espièglerie_ than their friendship warranted.
"Not a bit of it; I don't believe a word of it." At that instant
her eye caught Tom dancing with all his might, and she beheld his
_vis-à-vis_ exchanging smiles with him: her colour rose.
"By Jove! he's dancing with her a second time, and there's that
superannuated father of his, looking on! Wouldn't any one think Mr.
Pynsent was staring at a puppet-show? I'll take the old gentleman home."
Mrs. Pynsent rose for the purpose of joining her husband, who was
enjoying the apparent gaiety of his son. Lady Wetheral joined her at
that most inopportune moment, and began a subject most offensive to her
feelings.
"I am delighted to see your son in such excellent spirits to-night, my
dear Mrs. Pynsent: it is an infectious disorder which I already feel
stealing upon me. Such joyous spirits generally take effect upon those
around."
"What ails Tom that he should not be gay?" growled Mrs. Pynsent.
"Mothers court him and daughters flirt with him; what else can he
require in a ball-room?"
Lady Wetheral felt piqued.
"The last time I had the pleasure of seeing your son, he was not so
gaily inclined. I am glad his dejection has passed away."
"When did you see Tom out of spirits?" abruptly inquired Mrs. Pynsent.
"At Wetheral," replied her ladyship, in a gentle tone, while her heart
longed for farther questioning.
"Umph! Men require spirits sometimes, when they are running the
gauntlet."
"Mr. Pynsent won my admiration and regard by his honourable manner of
acting," continued Lady Wetheral, who had now got into deep water; "he
was always a particular favourite of mine, and I deeply regretted my
daughter did not accept a man so much...."
"Your daughter! who are you talking about?--what has my son to do with
any of your daughters?" Mrs. Pynsent was evidently beginning to chafe,
but she had offended by her allusions to mothers and daughters, and she
was destined to receive punishment from Lady Wetheral's hands.
"I am afraid I have alluded to circumstances which have not been made
known to you, my dear Mrs. Pynsent, and I beseech you not to remember
what has passed my lips: I was of course perfectly certain you were no
stranger to certain events at Wetheral, or I would have withheld this
unfortunate communication; I thought you knew...."
"I know nothing, Lady Wetheral; and what is more, I have no desire to
know any thing: have the kindness to let me pass."
Mrs. Pynsent passed on, as her ladyship fell back with polite ease of
manner at her wish; but the iron had entered into her soul. The diamond
aigrette upon her green satin turban paled under the flashing of her
eyes as she proceeded up the room towards Lady Spottiswoode. Lady
Wetheral confessed afterwards, her triumph at that moment repaid her
for many bitter taunts on the part of her victim.
Whatever might be the opinion of Mrs. Pynsent respecting an alliance
with "a Wetheral," her son was plunging into the scrape with formidable
determination. He had truly admired Julia; he had been severely
disappointed by her refusal; but then she never cared for him, and
he had applied to her father in doubt and fearful suspicion that she
preferred Ennismore. There was a lovely and admired creature positively
in love with him--a girl, too, considered by the men inaccessible to
all approach--even Vyvyan detected her attachment, and the Tyndals
envied him; this was irresistible; and Tom Pynsent forgot every thing,
in the flattering, rapturous idea that he was loved by such a woman.
His attention that night was extremely marked, and Miss Wetheral,
glowing with happy elation of spirits, listened with deep interest to
the half-sentimental, half-awkward conversation of her partner. At the
conclusion of the dance, which attracted the attention of Mrs. Tyndal,
Tom Pynsent became more seriously sentimental and red-faced.
"Miss Wetheral, I think a man may love twice, mayn't he?"
"He may so," replied Anna Maria, "but no one ever loves with depth of
affection a second time; how can they?"
Tom Pynsent looked at his gloves, and then upon the ground. "Indeed I
don't know."
"The first affection," she continued, with feeling, "unites all the
best feelings in their intensity; but when they are crushed, those
feelings bloom no more, though they may not be extinguished."
"Sometimes one's first love is a silly affair," remarked Tom, looking
inquisitively, yet alarmed, at his companion.
"They may be silly, and they may be objectionable, Mr. Pynsent;
but they destroy happiness at the time, and a first sorrow is the
bitterest."
"I think I could love a second time just as well as I did at first,
if I knew a nice girl liked me, and believed what I told her--" Tom
Pynsent stopped. A deep sigh from Anna Maria disordered him, but it
animated his courage at the same time.
"I know many people very happy with their second loves," said Tom
Pynsent, looking shy.
"Men may love twice, but women never, if they really feel an attachment
for an object," answered Miss Wetheral.
"I liked your sister Julia extremely, Miss Wetheral; but she did not
care about me, and a man cannot always be miserable about a woman
who runs out of his way. I would rather love a woman who liked me in
return, and would not check me with stern looks. I am sure I should
love my wife very much; and if she objected to hunting, I would never
go out more than four days in the week, and I am sure she might have
her own way in every thing."
Anna Maria coloured with emotion, and turned from the eager gaze of her
companion; her timidity gave increased animation to the speaker, and he
proceeded boldly.
"I'm sure any woman need not mind _me_: I am rough, but then a wife
mustn't mind those little things, and if I swear, it won't be at _her_.
A man swears to make himself understood, and sometimes one swears a
little for something to do; but my wife need not mind those trifles,
need she, Miss Wetheral?"
"That would depend upon circumstances."
"But should _you_?" asked Tom.
"I never heard you swear, Mr. Pynsent--much--"
Tom Pynsent drew himself up with strong approbation and pleased vanity.
"Shall we dance again, Miss Wetheral?"
"We have danced together twice this evening, Mr. Pynsent."
"Well, and what then?"
"People will remark," hesitated Anna Maria; "no gentleman dances three
times with--that is--I really can't tell."
"But if we like to dance together, what is that to any one?" Tom rose
and took her hand. "If you will not dance with me, I shall be sure you
don't wish it."
Anna Maria rose, though reluctantly.
"It is not my wish to decline dancing, Mr. Pynsent: I only dislike
making myself publicly remarked for breaking established rules."
"Never mind rules, Miss Wetheral; we will dance together, in spite of
every thing. Who minds what people say, if we like to dance together!"
Julia and Lord Ennismore passed at the moment Anna Maria was debating
with her partner: Julia smiled. "My dear Anna Maria, the young ladies
are complaining of you as a monopoliser; they say you have been
keeping Mr. Pynsent from his usual half dozen partners, and there is a
combination to vote you out of all ball invitations."
"I cannot allow Miss Wetheral to listen to such abominable nonsense,"
said Tom Pynsent, privately delighted at the idea of being observed;
"she has promised to be guided by me this evening, so we are going to
dance together for the third time."
"Come and stand by us then in the country dance." Julia pressed
the hand of her sister with affectionate meaning, which Anna Maria
returned, as they proceeded together to the set which was then forming.
For an instant they were able to exchange whispers.
"Oh, Julia, my heart is tranquil, I am again happy!"
"Glad of it, go on, and mind nobody's looks or remarks." In another
instant their partners claimed them.
"I say, father, just observe cousin Tom," said Miss Wycherly, touching
her father's arm; "do look at Tom smiling upon Miss Wetheral, and
looking so red-faced and happy. That will be a match, after all; I
shall congratulate him."
"Let him alone, Pen, let him alone, and congratulate him when he asks
for it. Girls will always be poking their noses into matches, and
making mischief. Say nothing to Tom, and say nothing to your aunt."
"But my aunt will be distracted, father, at the match."
"Pooh, pooh, let your aunt and Tom manage their own affairs; they can
both take their own parts."
"Gads!" cried Miss Wycherly; "Tom is just going to dance with Miss
Wetheral the third time, father; the third time, as I am alive, father!
Well, that will do for my aunt if she sees it."
Mr. Vyvyan came up at that moment to request the pleasure of dancing
with Miss Wycherly. Miss Wycherly kept her glass to her eye, and
continued observing the party as she replied, "No, I can't dance with
any body now, I'm looking at Tom." Mr. Vyvyan bowed with an offended
air and withdrew.
"Pen, you were very rude," observed Mr. Wycherly.
"Was I?"
"Yes, you were; devilish rude."
"What did he come worrying me for, when I was watching Tom. Gads!
father, Tom is saying something to the purpose now. Miss Wetheral has
given him such a look: poor Tom, it's all over with him! Where in the
world is aunty Pynsent?--somebody find me aunty--I want of all things
to see her fire up!"
Sir Charles Spottiswoode begged the honour of Miss Wycherly's hand for
the following country dance.
"I can't dance with any of you; I am busy looking for my aunt," replied
the lady, seating herself.
"Let me assist you in your search, Miss Wycherly;" and Mr. Spottiswoode
seated himself quietly beside her. Miss Wycherly was amused by the
action.
"Charles Spottiswoode, you may call this constancy, but I can only
consider it tiresome: do go and dance with some lady who has not the
objection I have, to being worried. I hate tiresome men!"
"I shall not desire to dance with you, but I will not quit this place
while you remain here," was the reply.
"Men always fancy perseverance will balance their demerits," said Miss
Wycherly.
"Perseverance will do much," replied Mr. Spottiswoode, "if a lady
values attention. Love is only proved by persevering constancy and
untired assiduity."
"A very fine sentiment, Mr. Spottiswoode; but I can meet you in the
field of disputation: I have always heard that 'love' was fearful,
patient, and easily discouraged."
"_That_ love must emanate from the heart of a poor devil, Miss
Wycherly; not such a heart as you would prize."
"What do you presume to know of my taste, Mr. Spottiswoode?"
"I know that you would despise a creeping, frightened lover, as you
dislike your horse for starting upon every application of the whip. You
would prefer a decided admirer who bore with your flippancy, and feared
not your power. You have such a lover in me, fair Penelope!"
"You are very tiresome and disagreeable, Mr. Spottiswoode."
"You like me better than you will acknowledge, Miss Wycherly."
"If that is all you can amuse me with, we might as well join the
dancing," said Miss Wycherly. "But stay, I cannot; I have just declined
Mr. Vyvyan."
"What is Mr. Vyvyan to you or me? the set is nearly completed, and
we shall be too late." Mr. Spottiswoode offered his arm to his fair
companion.
"No, I shall not dance to-night," said the capricious lady, rising and
reseating herself. "My mind is changed."
"So is mine; I am going to flirt a little with Lady Anna Herbert.
Chatting is far more agreeable than dancing, in a heated room. Lady
Anna has smiled good-naturedly twice. I am glad you had the good taste
to decline."
"I said I should not dance, but I did not say I would not talk, Mr.
Spottiswoode; how very anxious you are to take up one's meaning."
Mr. Spottiswoode only bowed to retire. Miss Wycherly softened the
pettishness of her accent.
"Do stay, Mr. Spottiswoode, I have something particular to ask you; you
flurry one with your rapidity."
Mr. Spottiswoode sat down. "I am all attention, Miss Wycherly."
"How can you look so cross at me, and speak in such dry tones, Charles
Spottiswoode! I hate cross people."
"Then answer me one simple question in truth and sincerity, or I am
gone for ever, Penelope Wycherly."
"Gads! how you plague one! Well, what is it?"
"I will know whether you mean to accept me after all this flippancy. If
you do not intend it, say so; but I demand a reply."
"Then you wish to flirt with Lady Anna, Mr. Charles, and you think
"'It is good to be off with the old love,
Before you be on with the new.'"
"You have not answered me," returned Mr. Spottiswoode, seriously;
"answer me, as you hope yourself to be fairly treated."
"I vow I don't know what I mean; it is very difficult to make one's
choice among such a variety of Lords of the creation. I have not been
introduced to Mr. Jones yet. I can't say I admire Tom's friend."
"I am answered, Miss Wycherly; I wish you good night." Mr.
Spottiswoode turned from the coquette, and walked up the dancing-room,
without attending to Miss Wycherly's recall. The lady became alarmed.
Was Mr. Spottiswoode's movement really intentional, or was he showing
her how indifferently he could take leave, to compel her into
acceptance? There he was positively talking to Lady Anna Herbert,
and looking perfectly composed. Lady Anna was a notorious flirt, but
she should not entrap Charles Spottiswoode! Miss Wycherly was not
accustomed to be treated with _nonchalance_; and that Mr. Spottiswoode,
her lover of long standing, should summon courage enough to stand upon
the defensive against her coquetry, piqued her to the soul. She sought
Julia, who was dancing with Lord Ennismore.
"Miss Wycherly unattended!" cried Mr. Henry Tyndal, as he met her on
her way to the dancers, "take my arm."
"Be quiet," said the lady, passing on with her glass raised to her eye,
"do be quiet."
"Miss Wycherly, you are after mischief; you are darting arrows at some
poor wretch through that missile," continued young Tyndal, following
her.
"I am darting nothing, unless you are my arrow, in which case I should
delight to throw you to an incredible distance."
"You are witty, Miss Wycherly," returned young Tyndal, "and whenever
you are witty, you are angry."
Miss Wycherly made no reply; she saw and approached Julia.
"Julia Wetheral, I beseech you to do me a service."
"I will gladly assist you, if it is in my power," replied Julia; "what
is required of me?"
"Oh, leave the dance, and listen to me. Lord Ennismore will follow us,
when he perceives you have quitted the set; here let us be seated, and
I will tell you my anxiety."
Julia smilingly listened to Miss Wycherly's statement of her little
coquetry, and the offended departure of Mr. Spottiswoode.
"And now," she said, "I know you will help me, and just make my peace
with Charles. I won't give him the triumph of knowing he has frightened
me, but in your playful way you can discover what Spottiswoode means.
He has positively threatened to flirt with Lady Anna; and, whether I
like him or not, he must not appear unconcerned with another woman. My
dear, that would kill me. I can't part with Charles Spottiswoode in
that way, you know, and I just want you to sound him. Now go, there's a
dear creature; leave Lord Ennismore with me."
Julia undertook the mission, and Lord Ennismore consigned himself, not
to the care of Miss Wycherly, but to the side of his lady mother.
"My dear son, I have witnessed Julia's flight, and your consternation,"
said her ladyship; "you are fortunate in possessing a foolishly-fond
mother to retire to in these emergencies."
"I am always very glad to come to you, mother," replied the poor
effeminate young man, seating himself between her ladyship and Lady
Wetheral.
Julia was some minutes in playful conversation with Mr. Spottiswoode,
and Miss Wycherly watched her movements with eager attention; at last
Julia approached.
"Well, my dear, what does he say? Tell me at once, is he going to dance
with Lady Anna?"
"Mr. Spottiswoode is very much hurt, Penelope, and, if you are not
cautious, you will lose him."
"Oh, my dear girl, don't say so. Lose him? No, I'll be hanged, as my
aunt says, if he gets away from me, to be one of Lady Anna's swains! I
must come down, I see, though it grates me dreadfully."
"Make haste, as you value Mr. Spottiswoode," replied Julia, "or he
will be dancing with Lady Anna. He is looking at us at this moment;
now, Penelope, smile, smile, and beckon him to you for ever--don't
trifle--now, now, Penelope!"
"My dear, the smile would kill me. I can't smile at Spottiswoode, to
show him his power, and make him impudent. No, I cannot smile yet,
Julia."
"There, Penelope, he has asked Lady Anna to dance, and they are
standing up! You have lost him by your foolish coquetting, upon my
honour!"
Miss Wycherly turned pale, but her feelings struggled with pride. "Oh,
well then, let him dance away, I care not. It is of little consequence
whether Mr. Spottiswoode prefers Lady Anna or myself. I shall not
condescend to beg pardon for any thing I chose to say to a silly
creature, who cannot command his temper."
"For shame, Penelope! you _do_ care, and you _do_ mind Mr. Spottiswoode
dancing with Lady Anna; when the dance is ended, tell him you have done
wrong."
"He might have seen by my looks, Julia, I was not in earnest, or, at
least, that I did not mean him to think so."
"Then tell him so, Penelope."
"Not I, indeed. I never will submit to own myself wrong to a man before
marriage, or after either, if I can help it. Spottiswoode may rue the
hour he offended me, for never will I condescend to ask him to return
to a woman whom he chooses to leave for such a person as Lady Anna. Any
other girl I could have borne patiently. This I will not forgive, for
he knew it would vex me! hang me, _à la_ Pynsent, if I do not repay him
in kind."
"I can be of no further use, Penelope?"
"None, Julia, but I thank you for what you have done, though it has
proved ineffectual. Do not let me detain you from your party."
Julia endeavoured to appease her companion, but her lover's careless
indifference gave deep offence to Miss Wycherly, and she persisted in
maintaining an equal appearance of light-hearted manner, to deceive
and distress Mr. Spottiswoode. She was not long without materials
to assist her design; Mr. Henry Tyndal again applying to her, Miss
Wycherly accepted him as a partner, and she passed her lover in the
country dance with inimitably affected composure and gaiety. How
did that really attached couple endeavour to vie with each other in
assuming a coldness foreign to their hearts; and how wretchedly did
they pass the remainder of the evening in a state of miserable watching
and suffering! Miss Wycherly, in her most laughing dialogue with Henry
Tyndal, cast perturbed and anxious looks towards Lady Anna Herbert, who
was listening with smiling and marked attention to Mr. Spottiswoode's
compliments. Her heart felt withered, yet she redoubled her gaiety;
Miss Wycherly was almost noisy in her mirth, and the sound of her voice
disturbed the serenity of Mr. Spottiswoode, and made him falter in his
own sallies. Lady Anna rebuked him.
"How now, Mr. Spottiswoode! you have said the same thing three times
consecutively. What am I to understand by this absence of ideas?"
"You have confounded them, Lady Anna."
"I did not flatter myself I had power to confound your learned mind,
Mr. Spottiswoode," returned the lady.
"I shall not be the first, nor the last, whom your ladyship has
confounded; all our heads become turned in your society."
"Very well; I declare I shall tell Miss Wycherly how you flirt."
"Pray do, Lady Anna; Miss Wycherly is coming down with Mr. Tyndal."
"Very well; Miss Wycherly, what do you think Mr. Spottiswoode says?"
"Cross hands and back again, and never mind what Mr. Spottiswoode
says," said Miss Wycherly. "I am flying down the middle." Away she went.
"I saw Miss Wycherly did not touch you in cross hands, Mr.
Spottiswoode, but here she comes again."
The party made their _poussette_ in high glee, Miss Wycherly appearing
wholly engaged in some joke with Henry Tyndal, and Mr. Spottiswoode
showering compliments upon Lady Anna. Tom Pynsent and Anna Maria, who
stood near the set, and heard the dialogue, were much amused.
"Cousin Pen has quarrelled with Spottiswoode," he remarked, "and there
will be a pretty battle; hear how he is laying it into Lady Anna
Herbert. I should not like quarrelling, should you, Miss Wetheral?"
"Oh, no, surely not."
"Quarrelling is a rum sort of going on, Miss Wetheral. I don't think
you ever quarrel."
"Never, when I have my own way," replied Miss Wetheral, smiling.
"I'm sure my wife would have her own way, if that was all she cared
about, Miss Wetheral."
Miss Wetheral was silent.
"I wish I was married to a woman who would be good-natured, and not
given to be huffed upon all occasions," resumed Tom Pynsent. "I think a
bachelor's life very uncomfortable."
Miss Wetheral trembled violently, but she loved Tom Pynsent too fondly
to be able to assist his meaning; her heart beat audibly, but she
remained silent.
"You ride on horseback, Miss Wetheral, very often, don't you?"
"Yes, frequently."
"I wish you would let me ride with you; I am sure you do not know half
the country about Wetheral. I suppose I may escort you, Miss Wetheral?"
Tom Pynsent began to feel great stoutness of heart, in proportion as
Anna Maria grew timid and embarrassed.
"I shall be happy--we shall feel----." She hesitated.
"To be sure; well, then, I shall be at Wetheral to-morrow, and, if you
are not fatigued, I will show you a monstrous fine view."
"But your hunting-day is to-morrow, Mr. Pynsent."
"Never mind hunting for a day or so, Miss Wetheral; I don't mind being
laughed at. I want very much to show you that view, so mind we are
engaged to-morrow."
How lightly did Miss Wetheral's heart beat at that moment! how was she
repaid for months of miserable feeling!
It was during the bustle of breaking up, that Miss Wycherly glided
towards Julia, and unbosomed her feelings.
"My dear soul, I am the most wretched woman existing; that creature has
vexed me to the soul with his flirtation, and my only hope is that I
have given him a tweak in return."
"Take care, Penelope!"
"Oh, I shall care about nothing but repiquing. As long as Spottiswoode
flirts with Lady Anna, so long I shall flirt with that half spoony
Tyndal junior, if my heart breaks under it. How happy you are, Julia,
and how miserable am I! You have chained your lover, whereas, mine
bounds away at a touch. Now, there, look at him, cloaking Lady Anna,
as if she was made of spun glass, and bringing her just under my very
eyes. I will bear that man's insult with perfect gaiety--watch me
now--good night!"
Miss Wycherly passed on with apparent light-heartedness, and addressed
Lady Anna Herbert.
"How you have footed it this night, Lady Anna! Mr. Henry Tyndal
declares you are the pride of Shropshire in a ball-room. I was quite
jealous. Lord Farnborough is waiting for you, with Lady Jessy, but I
shall tell them you are too agreeably occupied to move away yet."
"Oh, no, really I am quite ready," replied her ladyship: "but Mr.
Spottiswoode's compliments are so lengthy, they will never arrive at a
conclusion; what do you think he has been saying?"
"Oh, I guess, Lady Anna.
"'Will ye gang to the bourne, Marion,
Will ye gang to the bourne with me?'
"I can't continue the song, for my father beckons, but fare you well."
Miss Wycherly kissed her hand playfully, and walked gaily up the room,
which was thinning very fast.
"That was excellently done," observed Lady Ennismore to Julia, as
they proceeded to the carriage, "but it will cost your friend her
night's rest, and her lover into the bargain. That fragment of song,
and the careless manner which accompanied its delivery, will throw the
gentleman into Lady Anna's power."
Anna Maria was escorted to the carriage by Tom Pynsent, and Lady
Wetheral triumphantly and delightedly invited him to Wetheral, whenever
he felt inclined to do them honour by his presence.
"Certainly, Mr. Pynsent, Lady Spottiswoode's parties bear away the bell
amongst us; every thing is so agreeably arranged, so many extremely
pleasant people gathered together! Wetheral will prove fast-days
after such an evening as this, but fasts are enjoined, you know.
Mortifications are proper to subdue the spirit."
"I am engaged to ride with Miss Wetheral to-morrow," replied Tom
Pynsent, with a slight hesitation of speech, and a remarkably silly
look. "I am to show her a monstrous fine view."
"How very kind! my daughter is not acquainted with our _distant_ views,
Mr. Pynsent, and your polite attention will be the means of increasing
her pleasures. Miss Wetheral delights in fine scenery. You must dine
with us, my dear sir; we shall not allow you to run away after,
perhaps, a long and fatiguing ride. My dear Lord Ennismore, thank you
for bringing me Julia, but where is her ladyship?"
"Lord Farnborough is escorting my mother; our carriage has just drawn
up, and she begs you will drive on without waiting for her. She is
talking to the Farnboroughs, and I am going to join her. We shall be at
Wetheral before you."
"Oh yes, your horses are much too speedy for _my_ fears. Well, then, my
dear Julia, we will proceed at once into the carriage."
Lord Ennismore handed Julia to the carriage, and returned to join his
mother.
"Excellent young man," exclaimed Lady Wetheral, "I always admired
Ennismore, but his filial attentions are beautiful."
Tom Pynsent could not forbear a smile at her ladyship's enthusiastic
admiration; he wished the party good night.
"Good night, good night," said Lady Wetheral and Julia, kissing their
hands to the receding figure of Mr. Pynsent. Anna Maria did not speak
her adieus, neither did she wave her hand, but she bent forward to
watch the last glimpse of his athletic form, as it disappeared among
the groups, who were waiting for their carriages.