/*
THE
EXCLUSIVES.
VOL. II.
*/
/*
THE
EXCLUSIVES.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
SECOND EDITION.
LONDON:
HENRY COLBURN AND RICHARD BENTLEY,
NEW BURLINGTON STREET.
1830.
*/
/*
LONDON:
Printed by J. L. Cox, Great Queen Street,
Lincoln's-Inn Fields.
*/
THE EXCLUSIVES.
CHAPTER I.
THE CLOSING SCENE AT RESTORMEL.
On the evening previous to Lord Albert's
departure, while Mr. Foley and Lady Hamlet
Vernon were intently engaged in playing at
chess, Lord Albert announced to Lady Ellersby
his intention of leaving Restormel, and
paid her the usual compliment of thanks for
the honour she had done him in inviting him
there.
"You have lost your queen," cried Mr.
Foley, addressing Lady Hamlet Vernon,
"now in two moves I will give you checkmate,
lady fair. But see--what is the matter?--she
is ill--she faints--lend assistance
for heaven's sake!" Lord Albert flew towards
the spot, and caught Lady Hamlet as
she was falling to the ground. The usual
remedies were applied; and when sufficiently
recovered, the sufferer was carried to her
room, apparently still unable to speak.
"I hate all scene-makers," said Lady
Boileau; "if there is a thing I cannot bear, it
is the getting up of a sentimental catastrophe.--Don't
you, Mr. Leslie Winyard?--Don't you
think it is the acmé of bad taste?"
"Oh! most undoubtedly; nothing argues
a decided _roturièrism_ more than allowing
your feelings, if _real_, to get the better of you
in public; and if feigned, nothing is so easily
seen through as counterfeiting them, therefore,
either way, it is at best a _mistake_."
"One don't look well when one faints--that
is to say, _really_ faints," observed Lady
Ellersby; "it is surely best to avoid doing so."
"One may always command one's-self,"
observed Lady Baskerville.
"Oh!" said Lady Tilney, who now and
then really thought and felt right, "it is very
easy to distinguish between a _feint_ and a
_faint_; and I believe every body would ridicule
the first, and nobody would like to do
the latter; because, as Lady Ellersby observes,
no real fainting, or crying, or any of the convulsions
produced by the feelings, are the
least graceful, except in the _beau ideal_ of a
Magdalen, or on a painter's easel; and secondly,
because nothing is less likely to produce
interest than these kind of physical
causes; for, as some great author says, 'all
physical sufferings are soon forgotten even
by the sufferer, when they are past, and by
our friends certainly never remembered beyond
their immediate duration, if so long;'
consequently I believe Lady Hamlet Vernon
did faint _tout bonnement_: she had probably
_une indigestion_; poor Lady!--but she will
soon be well again."
"Spoken like an orator," said Mr. Spencer
Newcombe; "and not only an orator, but a
philosopher."
"Par drivers moyens on arrive à pareille
fin," said the Comtesse Leinsengen; "and
providing one does what one wants to do,
that is all that _sinifies_. One person faints,
another talks, another dresses, another writes,
all in order to get what they wish. On the
success depends the wisdom of the measure."
"Agreed," cried Mr. Spencer Newcombe,
"and conceived like a _diplomate du premier
grade_," he whispered to Lady Baskerville;
then aloud, "if Tonnerre had been here he
would have said--"
"I will bet you ten to one," cried Mr.
Leslie Winyard, "that Lord Albert D'Esterre
does not leave Restormel to-morrow."
"Done," said Mr. Spencer Newcombe.--
"Done," said Lord Baskerville; "ten to
one he does; for I never knew a more obstinate
fellow in my life; one who prizes himself
more _on decision of character_--and when
he says he will do a thing he will do it, however
little he may like the thing when done."
"I don't think he will go," said Lady Ellersby,
gently.
"Why not?" asked Lady Tilney.
"Lady Hamlet Vernon will not let him."
"C'est tout simple," rejoined Comtesse
Leinsengen, with a shrug of her shoulders.
"It appears to me," said Lady Baskerville,
"that if he does go he will not be very
much missed. I never knew so dull a member
of society; he never speaks but to lay down
the law, or to inculcate some moral truth:
now really when one has done with the nursery,
that is rather too bad."
"Providing she don't drive away George
Foley," said Lady Boileau, "she may reap
the fruits of her fainting here."
"Mr. Foley," replied Lady Baskerville to
her dear friend, "is the man in the world
who will do whatever suits him best; and I
particularly admire _his_ manner and his ways:
they are all perfectly in good taste; and I
have already promised him that he shall be
my _cavaliere servente_ for the season."
"Promised!--well, dear Lady Baskerville,
I thought you were too prudent to make such
promises. What will Lord Baskerville say?"
lowering her tone to a whisper.
Lady Baskerville, speaking aloud--"Oh,
dear! la! I should never have thought of
asking him what he likes upon such an occasion;--we
live too well together to trouble
each other with our little arrangements.--Is
it not true, Lord Baskerville? do we not do
exactly as we choose?"
"I hope your Ladyship does," he replied,
in all the airs of his exclusive character; "I
should conceive myself vastly unhappy if you
did not?" Lady Baskerville looked significantly
at her dear friend Lady Boileau; who
knew, as well as herself, that this ultra-liberalism
of her Lord in regard to the conduct
of wives, whatever it might be in respect to
husbands, was entirely assumed on Lord Baskerville's
part.
While this conversation passed in the drawing-room,
Lord Albert and Mr. Foley were
discoursing in their apartment above-stairs.
They had each expressed great interest about
Lady Hamlet Vernon's indisposition; and
after waiting some time to hear accounts of
her from her female attendants, they fell into
other conversation of various kinds, during
which Lord Albert D'Esterre found himself
unfeignedly amused and interested with the
talents, taste, and refinement of Mr. Foley;
and the more so, as he spoke much of
Dunmelraise and its inhabitants, and was
lavish in his praise of Lady Adeline.
"There is only one point," he said, "which
however is hardly worth mentioning, for of
course it only arises out of the seclusion and
the monotony of her present existence; but
certainly Lady Adeline, _pour trancher le mot_,
is a _little_ methodistical--the sooner you go
and put that matter to rights the better."
Lord Albert's manner of receiving the latter
part of this information, proved to Mr. Foley
that he had mistaken the character of the
person he addressed, and he added,
"But indeed Lady Adeline Seymour is so
perfect, that it matters very little what she
does--every thing _she does_ must be right."--The
conversation then took another turn,
and they parted.
Lord Albert D'Esterre was not what might
be called a jealous man; but no man, no
human being can be without the possibility
of feeling jealousy--neither was he naturally
suspicious, but nothing is more apt to generate
a suspicion of the fidelity of another's
conduct, than the consciousness of any
breach in the integrity of our own. He
pressed his hand to his heart--he sat down--rose
up--paced his chamber, and still repeated
to himself the praises which Mr. Foley
had uttered of _his_ Adeline. "_My_ Adeline,"
he said, and then again stopped; "but is
she _mine_? do I deserve she should still be
_mine_, when I have so neglected her? no!"--His
servant came into the room with a note,
the well known shape and colour of which
he could not mistake. It was placed in his
hand--he opened it carelessly and was about
to cast it away, when the name of _Adeline_
caught his eye; then he hastily read the
following words.
"It is not for myself I mourn--it is not
the threatened loss of your society, however
much I value it, which has occasioned my
being so overpowered--it is the knowledge of
a secret which pertains to another, and in
which your fate is involved, that has quite
mastered me--this much I must tell you. I
must see you before you go, I must prepare
you for your meeting with Lady Adeline
Seymour." Twenty times he read over this
note. "What can it mean? can its meaning
be that Adeline loves Mr. Foley, at least that
he thinks so? and I, what have I been doing?
into what a sea of troubles have I plunged
for the enjoyment of the society of a person
that in fact affords me none--for the empty
speculation of recalling the chaotic mind of
one (comparatively a stranger to me) to a
sense of reason and religion, fool that I was
for the attempt." Then, after a considerable
pause, and after deep reflection, he burst
forth:
"Prepare _me_ for a meeting with Adeline!"
as his eye caught again the last line of the
note. "_Prepare me for a meeting with
Adeline_--I cannot bear the phrase; but I
must know what she means--I must drag this
secret from her:"--and he rang the bell
violently!--"I shall not want my horses
till one o'clock instead of seven to-morrow
morning."
The night Lord Albert passed was one of
feverish anxiety. He sent to inquire for Lady
Hamlet Vernon at an early hour the next
day; and hearing she was much recovered,
he besought her to grant the interview she
had done him the favour to offer as soon as
she possibly could. She replied, that in that
house it would be reckoned a breach of all
decorum, if she received him at any undue
hour; but that as soon as the earliest part of
the company breakfasted, which was about
one o'clock, she would be sure, notwithstanding
her indisposition, to be in the breakfast-room
at that time; when she would avail
herself of some opportunity to give him the
information which had come to her knowledge.
This short delay seemed an age to
him. Every one knows, when suspense
agitates the mind, what a total anarchy
ensues, and the hours which intervened
before meeting Lady Hamlet Vernon seemed
to Lord Albert interminable. When they
_did_ meet, the intervening moments ere an
opportunity occurred of Lord Albert's drawing
her aside, appeared in their turn so many
more ages of suffering.
At last the company rose from the breakfast
table, and as Lady Hamlet took Lord Albert's
arm, and walked out on the terrace under the
window, she said, "This is kind of you to
have listened to my request:" and then as
they walked from the house, proceeded in a
graver tone to add, "I am aware, dear Lord
Albert, that my note of last night must have
surprised you, and that the subject connected
with it, on which I am about to touch, is one
of the utmost delicacy, and one which upon
the very verge of the attempt I shrink from;
but you have evinced so much real interest in
the state of my wayward mind, and have
said so much to me with a view, I am certain,
of placing my happiness on a more secure
and steady foundation than I had ever
any chance of before, that I should be ungrateful
in the extreme, if a corresponding
wish for your comfort in life did not in turn
actuate me. I cannot be ignorant of the engagement
between yourself and Lady Adeline
Seymour, the fulfilment of which will not, I
presume, be long delayed; unless, indeed--"
Here Lady Hamlet Vernon's voice faltered,
and for a moment she paused; but, as if
making an effort to subdue her emotion, she
added in a lower and firmer tone, and with
an expression of something like intreaty in
her countenance as she looked up at Lord
Albert, "Unless I, dear Lord Albert, shall
prove the happy instrument of saving you from
too precipitate a step in this matter. May I
continue to speak to you thus unreservedly?"
Lord Albert made no answer, but bowed his
head in token of assent, while he walked by
her side like one lost in a perturbed dream.
She continued,
"I wished, before you went, for this opportunity,
because I was aware that it was the
only one left in which what I am about to
impart would ever be of use; for, lovely as
Lady Adeline is, possessed of charms of person
which would indeed draw any heart towards
her, of the warmest and most enthusiastic
disposition, deeply enamoured of _you_ as
well as sacredly alive to her engagement to you
(and I know her, from a source which cannot
mislead me, in person, in mind, in heart, and
in determination, to be all that I describe
to you)--how could even your judgment,
Lord Albert, which is stronger than many
of twice your years, but yield to such
united influence, and be tempted to decide at
the moment on making so much perfection
irrevocably your own. But with all these
transcendant charms of person and of character,
Lady Adeline, I am grieved to say,
and know, has been unhappily betrayed into
views of life and of the world, which must
unfit her to be the partner of any one who
does not think in accordance with her on
these subjects. From what cause or under
what influence the peculiar turn of mind she has
taken has arisen, I know not, but (and again
I must repeat, that I _know_ the too-sure truth
of all I say) it has been gradually and fearfully
on the increase, and is now become a
fixed principle with her.
"She loves _you_, as I have said, and she
looks upon the coming union with you as
the fulfilment of a sacred engagement, and
a duty she has to perform; but with this
she views the rank you hold in society,
and in which she will be associated,
only imposing on herself obligations of a
higher and severer order, and calling for a
stricter conduct and a greater self-denial on
her part. She condemns what she calls the
dissipations and wicked employment of time,
in the world of fashion; she holds dress, beyond
the plainest attire, to be a misapplication
of the gifts of fortune; she laments over the
worldly career of any one whom she hears
talked of with applause, or whose talents raise
them to distinction in the public eye: she
has even, I understand, wholly abandoned
her music and her drawing, as too alluring
and dangerous an occupation, wasting the
time which ought to be devoted to serious
reading, and an acquirement of that spirit
which has already cast such a gloom over her
existence. The only active employment in
which she indulges herself beyond her books,
is in making clothes for and visiting the poor
in her mother's domain. In short, she is what
the world calls a methodist, a saint; I know
not exactly what these words mean, but I know
they are terms applied by people of sense to
an ultraism in religious matters."
Lord Albert shuddered, and a sigh was the
only interruption he gave, as Lady Hamlet
proceeded.
"Conceive yourself, my dear Lord Albert,
united to a person of this character, however
amiable in herself, with your talents, with your
views, which are" (and she looked at him steadily
as she spoke) "tinctured with ambition.
With your temper and your tastes for the elegancies
of life, how would you brook a wife
who was praying and singing psalms all day
long? who would consider all _your_ actions,
when not in accordance with her own, as so
many positive sins, and whose moments, such
at least as were spared from the offices of her
enthusiasm, would be passed in the cottages
of your tenants, and in making baby-linen for
every expected increase in their families.
"Now let me beseech you, and believe me
to speak from the most disinterested feelings,
that when you meet Lady Adeline, you will
not betray yourself into a too hasty arrangement
for your union. See her--see her, by
all means. Judge for yourself; use your
own eyes, hear with your own ears, and
be the arbiter of your own cause, but do
nothing rashly. Time is necessary for all decisions
in momentous questions; and what
can be more momentous, and in what is there
more at stake, than in an union for life? Can
too much deliberation be given to the subject?
Alas! I know, from my own fatal experience,
what misery must ensue where no tastes, no
principles, no objects exist in common between
those united. I owe to this cause a great
portion of my present unhappiness; for the
misery I endured, and the constant efforts I
made to bear up against the tenfold wretchedness
of my marriage with Lord Hamlet Vernon,
impaired my intellectual powers, and
prevented my turning the energies of my mind
to any useful or profitable purpose. Hence I
have become what I am, dependant on the resources
of the hour, to enable me to pass
through life with any thing like composure."
Lord Albert had listened with feelings
which it would be impossible to describe
to all that had fallen from Lady Hamlet
Vernon; and in the emotion, which her communication
and her entreaties produced, he
could find no words for utterance, no answer
to her appeals. He was like one dumb, and
deprived of sense; and he stood for some moments
rooted to the spot when the voice of
his counsellor had ceased.
"See her! yes, I will see my Adeline," he
at length said in a deep agonized tone, as
if communing with himself. "Yes, I will
see her."
"Lord Albert, I entreat you, I implore
you," cried Lady Hamlet Vernon, with an
emotion that made her words quiver on her
lips, "I beseech you forgive me, if"--the
window of the library was at this moment
thrown hastily up; and Lord Albert D'Esterre
heard his name called by Lord Ellersby,
who held in his hand a letter.
"D'Esterre," said he, "here are your letters."
Lord Albert hastened forward mechanically
to receive them, and one he gazed
upon more intently than the rest, as he looked
them over--it was from Adeline.
Who is there who has not recognised, even
in its peculiar folding, the letter of a beloved
object? and whose heart has not throbbed
with delight ere even the seal were broken?
Such was the emotion of Lord Albert, awoke
up from the paralyzing influence of Lady
Hamlet Vernon's communication to new life
by the letter he now pressed to his bosom;
and regardless of what had passed, he hastened
to his room, and read as follows:--
/#
"DEAREST:--My mother has been gradually
growing worse and worse these two
months, and I have persuaded her to go to
town for a consultation of her physicians.
"It is so long since I have heard from you,
Albert, it is painful for me to write, scarcely
knowing how far you may be interested
in what I have to communicate--but
I try to still my uneasiness--let me but
see you, dear Albert, all will be forgotten,
all will be forgiven; for I am your own true
and affectionate
/*[5]
"ADELINE."
*/
"P.S. You will find us at Mamma's house
in town."
#/
A letter like this, breathing such trust and
love, and so replete with genuine expression
of delight in the prospect of meeting him,
was indeed sufficient to make Lord Albert
forget at once the poisonous theme which
his ears rather than his reason had imbibed in
his interview with Lady Hamlet. Impelled
more by the eager anxiety of affection to
behold the object of his late disquietude, than
to see her for the purpose of convincing himself
of her errors, he leapt with alacrity into
his carriage, and drove towards London,
without casting a thought on those he left
behind.
The mortification which Lady Hamlet
Vernon felt was severe, in proportion as
from its nature it admitted of no sympathy.
She was, of course, ignorant of the cause of
Lord Albert's destination being so suddenly
changed from Wales to London; but in the
blindness of her increasing passion, she resolved
in the first moment of her despair to
follow him thither. A cooler judgment, however,
made her recollect that if she lost Lord
Albert she had other friends to retain, a position
in the gay world to lose, and that, at all
events, it was not by pursuing him at that
moment that any thing was to be gained; she
therefore determined on remaining some days
at Restormel, and making herself as agreeable
as possible to the party that continued
there. To one of Lady Hamlet Vernon's disposition
this was no easy task. Violent and
impetuous as she was by nature, left as she
had been without any control, it was a very
Herculean work to hide all the warring passions
of jealousy and disappointed love beneath
the semblance of a cool indifference--a
disengaged mind.
"What have you done with Lord Albert?"
was Lady Baskerville's first question to her
after the morning's salutation; "I hear he
departed in violent haste at an undue hour this
morning. He looks of such an imperturbable
gravity, one does not understand his ever
being brought to do any thing out of measure
or rule."
"I done with Lord Albert? my dear Lady
Baskerville, you confer too much honour upon
me to suppose that _I_ have any influence with
him. I did not even know that he was gone;
but if you are very much interested in his
departure, perhaps Lord Ellersby can tell us
something about it."
She thought by this means to discover the
cause of his sudden disappearance, and gratify
her inquiries as being the curiosity of
another.--"Lord Ellersby," she said, "Lady
Baskerville is desirous to learn what wonderful
event can have called Lord Albert away
from us so very suddenly."
"I do not know," said Lord Ellersby, "unless
he is going to be prime minister; don't
you think, Winyard, he has the dignity of
office on his brows already?"
"In his own opinion, I make no doubt, he
stands a fair chance for the highest situations;
but we have quite exploded all that sort of
fudge now-a-days, and I think, unless we were
to have a bare-bone parliament, and a cabinet
of puritans, his very consequential lordship has
not much prospect of success in that line."
"No," said Lady Tenderden, taking up a
newspaper, "I think this paragraph in the
Morning Post will rather explain the secret
of Lord Albert's going away:--
/#
"'We understand Lady Dunmelraise, with
her beautiful daughter Lady Adeline Seymour,
is shortly expected in town, and are sorry
to add that Lady Dunmelraise's ill health
has hitherto caused her absence from the gay
circles of fashion.'--This is put in by herself,
or some of her friends, you may depend
upon it."
#/
"Dear," said Lady Baskerville, "those vulgar
newspapers are always filled with trash of
that sort; nobody attends to such nonsense. I
dare say this Lady Adeline is some awkward
raw girl, enough to make one shiver to
think of; however, she may do very well as
a wife for Lord Albert, and he may be gone
to meet her."
"Oh, I do assure you," cried Lady Tilney,
"that the public papers are the vehicles of a
great deal of good or evil; and that not only
political discussion, but the discussion also of
the affairs of individuals, is constantly promoted
by the freedom of the press."
"For my part," said Lady Baskerville, "I
think it is quite abominable that those vulgar
editors of newspapers should be allowed to
comment upon what we do."
"Not at all, my dear Lady Baskerville;
allow me to assure you that we are much
more known--much more distinguished--much
more _répandus_ by being all named occasionally,
never mind how or in what manner,
in the public papers. Besides, on the
freedom of the press hangs all the law and the
prophets; and if some few suffer by it occasionally,
the multitude are gainers; and I can
never repine at the glorious spirit of public
liberty which the papers and the press maintain.
Don't you agree with me, Lord Ellersby?"
"I like it all very well when it does not
interfere with me," he replied, yawning; "but
I think it is very disagreeable when these vulgar
fellows, the news-writers, say some impertinent
thing, for which I cannot give them
a rap over the knuckles."
"La, what does it signify," rejoined Lady
Ellersby; "nobody thinks of any thing above
a very few days, and except some dear friend
or other, no person of good breeding mentions
the subject to one, if it be disagreeable,
so that I cannot really say it disturbs
my tranquillity for a moment, let them
say what they will. As to this puff about
Lady Adeline Seymour, I agree with Lady
Baskerville, there are always a set of would-be
fashionables, who pay for the putting in of
such paragraphs about themselves, _et l'on sait
parfaitement à quoi s'en tenir_ respecting them."
"Nevertheless," rejoined Mr. Foley, who
had just laid down his book, "I do assure you
that, puff or no puff, Lady Adeline Seymour
will astonish you all, for she is a very extraordinary
person."
"Then I am sure I shall not be able to
suffer her," said Lady Baskerville.
"_Je déteste les phénomènes_," said Comtesse
Leinsengen.
"Mr. Foley seems to be paid too," rejoined
Lady Tenderden, laughing, "for making the
young lady notorious; and we shall see him
with a placard stuck on his shoulders, setting
forth the beauties and perfections of the wonderful
young lady."
"These _miracles_," cried Comtesse Leinsengen,
"are only fit to be shewn for half-a-crown
a piece; if you interest yourself very much in
her benefit, remember, I promise to take
tickets."
Mr. Foley smiled as, he replied: "I shall
leave it to time to prove to every one of you
how very much you are mistaken."
"By all that is romantic," cried Mr. Winyard,
"Foley is caught at last; he is positively
going to become a lackadaisical swain,
and write sonnets to his mistress's eyebrows."
"Perhaps even so. It is amusing to take
up a new character now and then; it is like
changing the air, and is equally beneficial to
the health, moral and physical. Nothing so
fatiguing as being always the same, both for
the sake of one's-self, as well as of our associates--don't
you think so, Mr. Winyard?"
"I have always shewn that I did so think.
Few persons have acted up to their principles
in this respect more conscientiously than myself."
Mr. Foley did not press this matter
further; he knew when to retire from the
field, and always cautiously avoided a defeat.
This conversation was at once a key to Lady
Hamlet Vernon, and much as it pleased her
to have discovered the truth, she resolved to
carry on the deception; but Lady Hamlet
Vernon felt that her total silence might be
construed into an interest which, however real,
she by no means wished should appear to exist
in its true colours, and therefore she forced
herself into saying, with apparent indifference,
"I understand Lord Albert D'Esterre's marriage
is shortly to take place; and whatever
people may do _after_ marriage, they must be a
little attentive _beforehand_; so I doubt not
that the arrival of Lady Dunmelraise in town
is really the cause which has deprived us of his
society; and you know I am one of those who
hazard a favourable opinion of Lord Albert,
notwithstanding Lady Baskerville's dissentient
voice."
This speech she conceived to be one of unprejudiced
tone and feeling that would lull all
suspicion to rest, had any existed, as to the
nature of her real sentiments; and it at least
prevented the expression of that ridicule,
which would otherwise have been her portion.
In this society there was a general system of
deceiving on the one hand, and detecting on
the other, which constituted its chief entertainment
and business; and in the present
instance it formed, as usual, one of the main
springs of the interest that filled up the
remaining hours spent by the party at Restormel.