The hour at length came, when, harrassed in body and in mind, I set out
for Morton Park. I travelled alone, and reached the end of my journey at
close of day. I entreated Mr Morton, who hastened to hand me from the
carriage, and welcome my arrival, that I might be permitted to retire
to my apartment, pleading fatigue, and wishing to wave the ceremony of
an introduction to the family till the next morning. My request was
obligingly granted, and a servant ordered to attend me to my chamber.
Many years had elapsed since I had seen this family, and my judgment
was then so immature, that our meeting at the breakfast table had with
each of us, I believe, the force of a first impression. You know my
_fanaticism_ on these occasions. I will attempt an imperfect sketch of
the groupe, assembled in the saloon, to whom I was severally presented
on my entrance, by the lord of the domain. Mr Morton, himself, to whom
precedence is due, seemed to be about fifty years of age, was of the
middle stature, his features regular, and his countenance placid: he
spoke but little, but that little was always mild and often judicious.
He appeared not to be void of benevolent affections, and had the
character of a humane landlord, but his virtues were, in a great
measure, sunk in an habitual indolence of temper; he would sometimes
sacrifice his principles to his repose, though never to his interest.
His lady--no, I will not describe her; her character will, it may be,
unfold itself to you in future--Suffice it to say, that her person
was gross, her voice loud and discordant, and her features rugged:
she affected an air of openness and pleasantry; It may be prejudiced,
perhaps she did not _affect it_. Sarah Morton, the eldest of the
daughters, was about my age, she was under the middle height, fair,
plump, loquacious; there was a childish levity in her accent and
manners, which impressed strangers with an unfavourable opinion of her
understanding, but it was an acquired manner, for she was shrewd and
sensible. Ann, the second daughter was a little lively brunette, with
sharp features and sparkling black eyes; volatile, giddy, vain and
thoughtless, but good humoured and pretty. The other children were much
younger.
Two gentlemen joined us at our repast, visitors at Morton park. Mr
Francis, the elder, was in his fortieth year, his figure slender and
delicate, his eye piercing, and his manner impressive. It occurred to
me, that I had somewhere seen him before, and, after a few minutes
recollection, I recognized in him a gentleman who had occasionally
visited at my father's, and whom I have already mentioned as the
antagonist of the man of fashion, whose sentiments and volubility
excited my youthful astonishment and indignation. Mr Montague the
younger, the son of a medical gentleman residing in a neighbouring
county, seemed about one and twenty, tall, elegantly formed, full of
fire and vivacity, with imperious manners, an impetuous temper, and
stubborn prejudices.
The introduction of a stranger generally throws some kind of restraint
over a company; a break is made in their usual topics and associations,
till the disposition and habits of the intruder have, in some degree,
unfolded themselves. Mrs Morton took upon herself to entertain; she
exhibited her talents on various subjects, with apparent self-approbation,
till a few keen remarks from Mr Francis arrested the torrent of her
eloquence. The young ladies scrutinized me with attention; even the
lively Ann, while she minutely observed me, ceased to court play from
Mr Montague, who attended to me with the air, and addressed me in the
language of gallantry. I sometimes caught the penetrating eye of Mr
Francis, and his glance seemed to search the soul.
After breakfast, Mr Morton having retired to his dressing-room, and the
younger part of the company strolling into the pleasure grounds, whither
I declined accompanying them, I took an opportunity, being ever desirous
of active and useful employment, of offering my assistance to Mrs Morton,
in the education of her younger children; proposing to instruct them
in the rudiments either of music, drawing, French, or any other
accomplishment, for which my own education had capacitated me. Mr
Francis remained standing in a window, his back towards us, with a book
in his hand, on which he seemed intent.
'If,' replied Mrs Morton, 'it is your wish, Miss Courtney, to procure
the situation of governess in any gentleman's family, and it is
certainly a very laudable desire in a young woman of your _small
fortune_, Mr Morton will, I have no doubt, have it in his power
to recommend you: but in the education of my family, I desire no
interference; it is an important task, and I have my peculiar notions
on the subject: their expectations are not great, and your _elegant_
accomplishments might unfit them for their future, probable, stations.'
The manner in which this speech was uttered spoke yet more forcibly than
the words.--I felt my cheeks glow.
'I was not asking favours, Madam, I was only desirous of being useful.'
'It is a pity, then, that your discernment had not corrected your
vanity.'
The housekeeper entering, to consult her mistress on some domestic
occasion, Mrs Morton quitted the room. Mr Francis closed his book,
turned round, and gazed earnestly in my face: before sufficiently
mortified, his observation, which I felt at this moment oppressive, did
not relieve me. I attempted to escape, but, seizing my hand, he detained
me by a kind of gentle violence.
'And why this confusion, my dear Miss Courtney; do you blush for having
acted with propriety and spirit?' I burst into tears--I could not help
it--'How weak is this, how unworthy of the good sense you have just
manifested.'
'I confess it, but I feel myself, at this moment, a poor, a friendless,
an unprotected being.'
'What prejudices! poverty is neither criminal, nor disgraceful; you
will not want friends, while you continue to deserve them; and as for
protection,' (and he smiled) 'I had not expected from Emma Courtney's
spirited letter to Mr Morton, and equally proper retort to his lady's
impertinence, so plaintive, so feminine a complaint.--You have talents,
cultivate them, and learn to rest on your own powers.'
'I thank you for your reproof, and solicit your future lessons.'
'Can you bear the truth?'
'Try me.'
'Have you not cherished a false pride?'
It is too true, thought I, and I sighed.
'How shall I cure this foible?'
'By self-examination, by resolution, and perseverance.'
'Be to me instead of a conscience.'
'What, then, is become of your own?'
'Prejudice, I doubt, has blinded and warped it.'
'I suspect so; but you have energy and candor, and are not, I hope, of a
temper to despond.'
The return of the family terminated this singular conversation.
The young ladies rallied me, on being found _tête-à-tête_ with the
philosopher; Mr Montague, I thought looked displeased. I stole out;
while the party were dressing for dinner, and rambled into the gardens,
which were extensive, and laid out with taste.