High Harrowgate, where the more aristocratic strangers and invalids
annually resort, is nearly two miles distant from the mineral well, and
from Low Harrowgate, which is infested by the more inveterate class of
water drinkers. Placed far from the offensive odour of the medicated
spring, on an elevated common, which still remains bare in all the
uncultivated barrenness of nature, the broad green expanse is
surrounded on every side by a wreath of miscellaneous buildings of
every size and shape, cottages, shops, lodgings, houses, villas, and
hotels, all marshalled in a row, and, like guests at the ordinary,
mingled without order or distinction; while, elevated above all, and
conspicuous for its whitewashed front and innumerable windows, stood
the extensive building in which Sir Arthur had his sleeping apartments.
Its aspect was extremely ancient, with a venerable stone roof peculiar
to old times, and testifying to its great antiquity; while the more
modern slates, or even thatch, on the surrounding dwellings, indicated
a recent construction.
At High Harrowgate, a crowd of large consequential-looking hotels may
be observed on every side, all unusually extensive in their
accommodation, and apparently of nearly equal calibre; but visitors,
after residing there some time, become aware that to those who
prescribe gaiety, as well as more salubrious air and water for
themselves, there are but three hotels in Harrowgate. Invalids may be
ill anywhere, and personages who wish to be exceedingly exclusive
retreat into private lodgings; but for anything that can be dignified
with the name of society at an ordinary, the Granby, the Crown, and the
Dragon, have by mutual agreement, established a singular monopoly,
giving balls every alternate night, to which the guests in each house
are reciprocally invited; the ladies and gentlemen of the Granby and
Crown requesting the honor of being patronized at a ball on the
following night; and each hotel provides a carriage for the
transportation of its own party, in case any of the distinguished
guests should happen by chance not to have brought their private
carriages. Meantime, it is rather arbitrarily taken for granted, that
there are neither ladies nor gentlemen at Gascognes, Queen's, the White
Swan, or the Black; but residents at these houses are allowed to appear
on sufferance, though not as invited guests; being merely "winked at."
At a Harrowgate dinner the travellers take precedence more according to
the length of their bills than by any other criterion, those who have
resided a month in the hotel going before those who have resided only a
week, and the visitors of a week being far in advance of all who
arrived the day before. A Peer of the realm must sit below his tailor,
if he arrived at the house after him, and no dispute about places can
arise, as each individual's name is accurately ascertained in the
morning, and a plate turned upside down on the table opposite where he
is intended to sit, with his name distinctly written in ink on the
china. A label is also attached to each bottle of wine, exhibiting, not
the name of the wine, but the name of its owner, and half an hour
before dinner, all the gossiping world at each inn, may be observed
slowly pacing round the table, and carefully reading the name, style,
and title of those with whom they are about to dine, illustrating their
remarks by exchanging biographical anecdotes and remembrances connected
with each successive person, as he comes under discussion. Thus, though
many arrive at Harrowgate strangers whose "names were never heard,"
yet, after passing through the ordeal of this gossiping committee,
stories and circumstances are gradually discovered or invented, by
which each individual is in some degree identified.
Between High and Low Harrowgate, besides a broad, circuitous high-road,
two pleasant rural paths lead through the fields, on which a
gaily-dressed crowd may be seen from peep of day in the morning,
hurrying along in rapid succession to the well, with looks of
anticipated disgust in the prospect of that strange compound of horrors
which they are about to swallow, only comparable to the washings of an
old gun-barrel. As Sir Arthur remarked, these waters seemed to have
been invented for the especial affliction of elderly gentlemen,
processions of whom might be observed drinking tuns of water, in order
that complexions evidently much the worse of wear might in the process
of renovation, be mended, cleaned, dyed, and repaired, till they looked
as good as new; and though the Admiral complained that, to his
uncomfortable feelings, it always seemed as if he had swallowed the
tumbler itself, yet he valiantly persevered in daily drinking bumpers
to his own health, saying that what was good for so many others, would
be good for his complaint, if he had one, though, except old age and
blindness, he was conscious of none.
In consequence of Sir Patrick's bet with Mrs. O'Donoghoe, he was on the
alert at an early hour before breakfast the next morning, to ascertain
who the incognitos were in the garden room. For nearly an hour he
sauntered on the common within sight of the Granby, exchanging gay
observations with those who passed, listening with a satirical smile to
Lord Wigton, who was practising to desperation some of Rossini's airs
at an open window, and watching with astonishment the repulsive
stranger of the preceding evening, who, closely buttoned up in a
military surtout, with his hat slouched over his face, was rapidly
pacing up and down, with ceaseless perseverance, close to the garden
room, with his eye fixed upon the windows and doors, making apparently
so accurate a survey of those private apartments, that had it been by
night instead of by day, he might almost have been arrested on
suspicion of intending to attempt a burglarious entrance.
Not a mouse seemed stirring within these rooms, the blinds were all
drawn down, and the doors all closed, but still the stranger paced
rapidly up and down, casting many impatient, irritable glances upwards
on the silent walls, yet keeping himself so concealed that no one,
looking suddenly out, could have perceived him lurking there. Sir
Patrick now, for the first time, suspected that he did not belong to
the party within, and became more and more interested in observing his
various eccentric movements, which betrayed a high state of excitement,
till at length, finding himself watched, with the quickness of
lightning he suddenly vanished round a projecting corner of the
building, though a few moments afterwards Sir Patrick perceived that he
was concealed in a thicket of trees not far off, where he could still
keep his eye fastened on the windows with unswerving steadiness.
Parties, meantime, hurried onwards to Low Harrowgate to do duty at the
well, while some of the loungers had already returned, being full
charged with their quantum of water, and all very loudly expressing
their astonishment that Sir Patrick had not yet set forth to hear the
military band, which was reported to be playing "beautifully!
enchantingly! or detestably!" according to the humor of those who
spoke.
The crowd was on this day so excessive, that the old well had been
completely exhausted, and alarming apprehensions were entertained by
the invalids, of a scarcity for the later visitors, but still Sir
Patrick stirred not! Though not usually endowed with excessive interest
in any affairs but his own, the movements of the mysterious stranger,
and his look of feverish anxiety, engrossed almost the whole of Sir
Patrick's thoughts, though, to avoid any appearance of espionage, he
kept up a lively dialogue with Mrs. O'Donoghoe and Captain De
Crespigny.
Marion in the mean time had been exceedingly amused by the scene which
usually takes place at the well, where every face seemed as if laboring
under the nausea of sea-sickness, and she stood for some time with Sir
Arthur and Mr. Granville, laughingly studying physiognomy, as parties
arrived in rapid succession, threw off a tumbler of smoking horrors,
and instantly departed, while a row of shabbily-dressed women, standing
behind a stone counter, hurriedly filled the glasses, and handed them
over in a long wooden ladle, to the expectant invalids, one by one, who
were waiting patiently or impatiently for their turn. Each of the great
hotels had an emissary appointed here, whose business it was to attend
on their respective guests with the proper allowance of water, and it
seemed as if these old women knew by a sort of instinct those who
belonged to their own house; but an angry contest having taken place
respecting one gentleman, who was obliged to wait with resignation or
without it, till the belligerent parties had decided whose privilege it
was to kill or cure him, Marion's attention was more peculiarly
attracted to the spot, where one of the women who assisted in serving
out the general beverage had been hitherto screened from her notice.
Her face was excessively muffled up, but in the little that remained
visible, traces of beauty still remained, though her features were so
attuned to suffering, that Marion with wonder and pity contemplated so
pale and ghastly a form. At length a dim idea stole into her mind, that
surely she had seen that face before, but while the floating
remembrance yet continued to flicker indistinctly through her mind, the
wretched-looking woman, with a startled glance, had vanished.
"Patrick!" whispered Marion, turning to take her brother's arm, "do
patronize me for one minute! Did you observe that melancholy-looking
woman at the well? I never saw so blighted a countenance! What can the
sorrows be that stamped such a look of ghastly woe upon these beautiful
features?"
Marion looked up for a reply, and started to find that she had
inadvertently taken the arm of Captain De Crespigny, whose usual
vivacity and presence of mind seemed at this moment to have entirely
forsaken him. His eyes were straining after the receding figure of the
stranger, with an air of eager astonishment and alarm, while his
countenance had become white as death. In a moment, however, he
recovered himself, when Marion, with an exclamation of surprise, had
drawn away her hand, making a hurried apology for her mistake.
"Did you not recognise her?" asked he, in accents of almost tremulous
agitation. "It could be no one else! Surely that must have
been--Dixon?"
"It was!" exclaimed Marion, breathlessly. "How has she come here? what
can she want? where is Agnes?"
"This must be inquired into!" muttered Captain De Crespigny, almost
inaudibly; and then resuming his usual careless vivacity of tone and
manner, he entreated Marion to let him benefit by the fortunate
resemblance of his dress to Sir Patrick's, and still continue to escort
her. "I envy Dunbar for the privilege whenever he enjoys it, for you
shun me like a rattle-snake," added he, in his most insinuating tone;
"yet I would not for worlds be your brother."
"It is but a troublesome office," replied Marion, looking anxiously
round for Sir Arthur, who had walked on a few minutes before, leaning
on Mr. Granville, and most impatiently did she long for their return,
being always on the alert to shun Captain De Crespigny without
appearing to do so. Though, like all other persons, amused and
enlivened by his whimsical and diverting style of conversation, which
had more even in the manner than in the words, and though with any
friend of her brother's it pained her courteous nature to be otherwise
than frank and good humored, yet she made a principle of unobtrusively
evading his assiduities, not only because his conduct to Agnes had been
and still continued unpardonably dishonorable, but she felt indignant
to think that he was disposed to beguile his leisure by also
captivating and deluding herself. It was obvious that whenever she
entered the room, he became silent and embarrassed with every one else,
and took the first opportunity of devoting himself exclusively to her.
Not giving one shadow of belief to all his professions, when Marion was
obliged to listen, she did so with unconcealed indignation on finding
the same insinuations of attachment made to herself which had been
repeated to her formerly with triumphant credulity by Agnes. Marion
thoroughly despised his double dealing and ungenerous trifling, while
feeling nothing for him on that score but contempt, she could almost
have rejoiced that he wasted his efforts to be irresistible on one who,
being so fully aware of his character, could incur no danger from the
fascinations which had been fatal to the peace of many. Safe in the
consciousness of a hallowed attachment to Mr. Granville, and convinced
that Captain De Crespigny was incapable of a single genuine feeling,
she could scarcely have considered it necessary even to be repulsive in
her manner; but it seemed due to Agnes as much as possible to avoid
him, knowing that her sister had not yet been able entirely to divest
herself of a lingering belief that the professions which were false to
all others were sincere to herself.
For the first time in his whole acquaintance with lady-kind, Captain De
Crespigny felt doubtful and diffident of his own fascinations, and for
the first time also he felt himself really and undeniably in love, as
the transparent single-hearted excellence of Marion's character seemed,
when compared with the hackneyed and artificial mind of her sister, and
all other girls, like the difference between a pure mountain breeze and
a London fog. The attachment he so often affected had now become
genuine, and the feelings he formerly invented for amusement, and
expressed with the utmost fluency, were now so real, that they could
scarcely be spoken at all; for language seemed to fail him when he
addressed Marion, and every day, as it increased his attachment,
diminished his hope. She had no vulgar love of admiration; and Captain
De Crespigny was mortified to perceive, that while the color mounted to
her cheek at the slightest evidence of affection from her uncle or
brother, all his own hints of a preference, all his fascinating
attentions and irresistible speeches, were listened to with the same
smiling good humor as if they had been devoted to a third person.
Marion always made some ready reply, without a _soupcon_ of
embarrassment, and seemed to take compliments, reproaches, love, or
despair, all as matters of course, which must inevitably be listened to
with the same indulgent consideration she would have bestowed on Lord
Doncaster's lamentations respecting his last attack of the gout. She
did not even pay him the compliment to drop a single stitch in her
knitting from agitation or from interest when he spoke to her; but all
his words passed away like arrows flitting through the air, which leave
not a trace behind.
Captain De Crespigny became, this morning, more than usually assiduous
while they stood beside the well, referring to Marion's opinion on
every subject, quoting what he remembered her formerly to have said,
rejoicing in everything that seemed to give her pleasure, regretting
the most trifling annoyance that fell in her way, approving of all her
sentiments, and talking in raptures of old Sir Arthur, while eyes,
smiles, voice, and manner, all indicated the feelings he wished to
convey; but Marion merely congratulated herself, that having seen the
cards already, she knew the game he was playing.
"Miss Dunbar!" said Captain De Crespigny, rushing eagerly forward to
pick up a flower which the wind had blown out of her bouquet, "may I
keep this rose?"
"Certainly! any gentleman may take a flower; but I never give one.
There are twenty better in the garden."
"I would give all the twenty for this one. This is more precious than
anything except the hand that gives it. Indeed this is the only rose in
the world I care for!"
"The white moss-rose is more fragrant, and not so common," answered
Marion, indifferently. "That was beautiful an hour since, though rather
the worse of wear now."
"I am so unalterable in my preferences, that even though withered and
decayed, still it would be precious to me, as connected with
recollections which I shall cherish till the world's end, and till the
end of time! Flowers speak a language which words cannot express; and
even if mine were to fade in an hour, let me enjoy it while I may. This
rose does not hoard all its sweetness, as you do!"
"Captain De Crespigny, if your conversation has a fault in the world,
it is too plain, matter-of-fact, and unadorned," said Marion, with a
careless laugh. "You have wasted a whole summer of lilies and roses
upon me during the last five minutes, and I ought to answer you with a
perfect conservatory in return; but it sounds dreadfully like the
double-distilled essence of the Minerva press. I thought this very
flourishing style of compliment had been worn out now, and given over,
as old clothes are, to the race of abigails and valets. But here comes
my sister; and, to speak in your own fashion, remember '_je ne suis pus
la rose, mais j'ai vecu avec elle_.'"
To Marion's astonishment, Agnes merely strolled past, with her eyes
earnestly fixed upon nothing, and did not interrupt her conversation
with Lord Doncaster and the Abbe Mordaunt, by whom she was escorted,
except to give a smiling nod to Captain De Crespigny, who seemed
exceedingly surprised at her indifferent "how-d'e-do" manner, and
excessively piqued at the carelessness she either felt or feigned,
saying, in a tone of satirical wonder:
"The Abbe seems to have every probability of gaining a proselyte! He
has been very successful among the lower orders lately, though; I
believe, my uncle's ale and roast beef ought to receive great part of
the credit; but I cannot be sufficiently astonished at our new
convert!"
"I must discuss this subject with my sister!" replied Marion, pleased
to observe Captain De Crespigny so much interested in Agnes. "It is
wrong to have delayed so long asking an explanation; but I could almost
more easily die for those I love, than distress them. My uncle would
care too much on the subject, and Patrick too little; therefore it must
devolve upon me to speak. We are to have a long drive, soon. Let me
consider! this is Tuesday--to-morrow will be Wednesday----"
"How clever of you to find that out! You would certainly have
discovered the longitude!"
"No doubt of that! I have discovered a great deal in my time; but in
the meanwhile I shall talk this over fully with Agnes to-morrow."
"Do not speak of to-morrow, when to-day is the happiest, perhaps, in my
life! I wish there were no to-morrows! Such an hour as this appears to
me like an aloe, which can blossom only once in my existence."
"You entertain very moderate expectations of life, therefore I think we
may confidently rely on your being agreeably surprised by many days as
pleasant."
"Then they must be passed in the same society; but Miss Dunbar, it
always seems as if you would rather say 'Good bye' to me than 'How d'ye
do!' You treat me with the most barbarous injustice! Your heart never
teaches you to understand mine! Is it that you hate or despise me? You
are so amiable to others, so charming, so everything that I could
admire, yet to me your smiles are as cold and chilling as a moon-beam
on snow. Be severe, satirical, anything but half absent and altogether
indifferent, while you listen to me only with the ear and not at all
with the heart. I shall positively be obliged at last to give you up."
"I wish you would! We might be the best of friends as well as cousins,
if you would only talk to me in an everyday manner, without rehearsing
over those absurd Romeo-and-Juliet speeches."
"Let us, then, be friends now, and more than friends in time to come."
"Never! O never! Patrick has led you to disbelieve my engagement to
another; but at all events, Captain De Crespigny, if we lived in
separate planets we could not be more entirely divided; and even in
jest, I cannot allow any one to talk as you do, though I know it is
merely an unconquerable habit you have of saying the same thing to
every young lady, indiscriminately."
"What a shocking aspersion! you seem to think me incapable of a single
respectable feeling, but believe me, since first we met I have scarcely
known whether there be another girl in the world but yourself! Every
moment I can be with you adds something to the value of my existence."
"Your civilities are all so complete a burlesque that I need never
forget they are in jest!" replied Marion, looking considerably bored,
and hurrying onwards, while Captain De Crespigny buried himself in
melancholy silence, and assumed a most perfect attitude of graceful
despair. Finding the pause rather awkward, she added, in an every day,
commonplace tone: "Are you going to hear Grisi to-night? I am told that
large sums are given for places on the heads of those who have already
secured seats!"
"If I go to Grisi's concert, the temptation is--not to hear him--that
you know very well--too well! I have but one object in going anywhere,
and that is--to meet you. _Esperer aupres de vous vaut mieux que jouir
avec tout autre._ I must quarrel with that little shake of the head.
It is a libel on my sincerity! Miss Dunbar, your face is a perfect
printing press, and publishes all you think! I wish you possessed the
magic ring which enabled people to know exactly what was thought of
them! You are in my debt several months of devoted attachment! Little
do you guess how often and how deeply your slightest words are
pondered, remembered, repeated, and dwelt upon in my solitary hours,
nor how constantly I wish that the man in the moon, who employs his
leisure in knitting people together with invisible cords, would, for my
especial happiness, give us a few stitches."
"It must be his fault that we have been kept so very long together this
morning. Where can my uncle be?" said Marion, impatiently. "You are
aware already, Captain De Crespigny, that I must receive all my
brother's friends with civility. In that respect his authority shall be
obeyed, as it is of no use quarreling with the wind, but if you
consider me indifferent, that is what I am and ought to be, therefore
think me so always."
"That very indifference is distracting! Let me acknowledge, Miss
Dunbar, that I may have deceived others, but you I never even wished to
deceive; others I have flattered, but no one can flatter you, because
nothing can be said equal to what I think. I wish new words could be
invented to express the ardor of my sentiments! When we are together,
the present moment is everything! I have neither past nor future,
neither hopes nor fears, but what are connected with you," said Captain
De Crespigny, with hurried impetuosity, while a rush of mingled feeling
swept across his features. "I forget everything else when you are
present, and neither know nor care where I go in your absence. I love
you as I never loved before and never can again. The world, in short,
has only two divisions, in my estimation--where you are, and where you
are not. Despise my attachment if you will, but at least believe in
it."
"You grieve me to the very heart," said Marion, in a low, tremulous
voice, for there was an irresistible air of truth in Captain De
Crespigny's manner which startled and shocked her. "I never for a
single moment could imagine you serious about anything! Life and even
its most sacred affections seem all in your estimation a mere jest, to
be thought of and forgotten with a smile. I trust it is so now! I would
not for worlds believe you in earnest! You seem really to have parted
with your senses!"
"Or rather I found them from the moment I learned to appreciate you!
Did you never hear, Miss Dunbar, that in this world two individuals are
always created suitable to each other, who must both be miserable
unless they become one, and you exactly fill up the beau ideal which
has haunted me from the hour I left Eton."
"Why? De Crespigny!" exclaimed Sir Patrick, coming forward, "with that
melo-dramatic air, you seem to be rehearsing a last speech and
confession."
"Or rather my first speech and confession," replied he, with a
conscious laugh. "And Miss Dunbar, I must entreat you not to
believe----"
What Captain De Crespigny entreated her not to believe Marion did not
wait to hear, as they had at last reached the Granby, and she rushed up
to her own room, while he, as much astonished at his reception as a
gentleman could well be, strolled slowly away singing to himself with
angry asperity,
"If she love me, this believe,
I will die ere she shall grieve;
If she slight me when I woo,
I can scorn and let her go."