Thus equipped, and decided, the following week opened upon Ellis, with a
fair prospect of fulfilling the injunctions of her correspondent, by
learning to suffice to herself. This idea animated her with a courage
which, in some measure, divested her of the painful timidity, that, to
the inexperienced and modest, is often subversive of the use of the very
talents which it is their business and interest to display. Courage, not
only upon such occasions, but upon others of infinitely higher
importance, is more frequently than the looker on suspects, the effect
of secret reasoning, and cool calculation of consequences, than of
fearless temperament, or inborn bravery.
Her first essay exceeded her best expectations in its success; a success
the more important, as failure, there, might have fastened discredit
upon her whole enterprize, since her first pupil was Lady Barbara
Frankland.
Lady Kendover, the aunt of that young lady, to whom Miss Arbe, for the
honour of her own patronage, had adroitly dwelt upon the fortnight
passed at Mrs Howel's, and, in the society of Lady Aurora Granville, by
her _protegee_; received and treated her with distinguished
condescension, and even flattering kindness. For though her ladyship was
too high in rank, to share in the anxious tenaciousness of Mrs Howel,
for manifesting the superiour judgment with which she knew how to
select, and how to reject, persons qualified for her society; and though
yet less liable to be controlled by the futile fears of the opinion of a
neighbourhood, which awed Mrs Maple; still she was more a woman of
quality than a woman of the world; and the circle in which she moved,
was bounded by the hereditary habits, and imitative customs, which had
always limited the proceedings of her ladyship's, in common with those
of almost every other noble family, of patronizing those who had
already been elevated by patronage; and of lifting higher, by peculiar
favour, those who were already mounting by the favour of others. To go
further,--to draw forth talents from obscurity, to honour indigent
virtue, were exertions that demanded a character of a superiour species;
a character that had learnt to act for himself, by thinking for himself
and feeling for others.
The joy of Lady Barbara, a lively and lovely young creature, just
blooming into womanhood, in becoming the pupil of Ellis, was nearly
extatic. Lady Aurora Granville, with whom she was particularly
connected, had written to her in such rapture of the private play, that
she was wild to see the celebrated Lady Townly. And though she was not
quite simple, nor quite young enough, to believe that she should
literally behold that personage, her ideas were, unconsciously, so
bewildered, between the representation of nature and life, or nature and
life themselves, that she had a certain undefined pleasure in the
meeting which perplexed, yet bewitched her imagination. She regarded it
as the happiest possible event, to be brought into such close
intercourse, with a person whom she delighted herself with considering
as the first actress of the age. She looked at her; watched her;
listened to her; and prevailed upon Lady Kendover to engage that she
should every day take a lesson; during which her whole mind was directed
to imitating Miss Ellis in her manner of holding the harp; in the air of
her head as she turned from it to look at the musical notes; in her way
of curving, straightening, or elegantly spreading her fingers upon the
strings; and in the general bend of her person, upon which depended the
graceful effect of the whole. Not very singular, indeed, was Lady
Barbara, in regarding these as the principal points to be attained, in
acquiring the accomplishment of playing upon the harp; which, because it
shews beauty and grace to advantage, is often erroneously chosen for
exhibiting those who have neither; as if its powers extended to bestow
the charms which it only displays.
The admiration of Lady Barbara for her instructress, lost some boundary
of moderation every day; and Ellis, though ashamed of such excess of
partiality, felt fostered by its warmth, and returned it with sincerity.
Lady Barbara, who was gaily artless, and as full of kindness as of
vivacity, had the strong recommendation of being wholly natural; a
recommendation as rare in itself, as success is in its deviations.
Miss Arbe was all happy exultation, at a prosperity for which she repaid
herself, without scruple, by perpetual, though private lessons; and
Ellis, whose merit, while viewed with rivalry, she had sought to
depreciate, she was now foremost to praise. The swellings of envy and
jealousy gave way to triumph in her own discernment; and all severities
of hypercriticism subsided into the gentler vanity, and more humane
parade, of patronage.
Another happy circumstance signalized, also, this professional
commencement of Ellis; Miss Arbe secured to her the popular favour of
Sir Marmaduke Crawley, a travelled fine gentleman, just summoned from
Italy, to take possession of his title and estate; and to the
guardianship of two hoyden sisters, many years younger than himself. His
character of a connoisseur, and admirer of _les beaux arts_; a person of
so refined a conformation, as to desire to be thought rather to vegetate
than to live, when removed from the genial clime of the sole region of
the muses, and of taste, Italy; made his approbation as useful to her
fame, as the active influence of Miss Arbe was to her fortune. This
gentleman, upon hearing her perform to Lady Kendover, declared, with a
look of melancholy recollection, that The Ellis was more divine than any
thing that he had yet met with on this side the Alps. He requested Miss
Arbe, therefore, to place his sisters under her elegant tuition, if he
might hope that The Ellis could be prevailed upon to undertake two such
Vandals.
Born to a considerable fortune, though with a narrow capacity, Sir
Marmaduke had persuaded himself, that to make the tour of Europe, and to
become a connoisseur in all the arts, was the same thing; and, as he was
rich, and, therefore, able to make himself friends, civil, and therefore
never addicted to make enemies, no one felt tempted, either by sincerity
or severity, to undeceive him; and, as all he essentially wanted, for
the character to which he thought himself elevated, was 'spirit, taste,
and sense,' he uttered his opinions upon whatever he saw, or heard,
without the smallest suspicion, that the assiduity with which he
visited, or the wealth with which he purchased, works of art, included
not every requisite for their appreciation. Yet though, from never
provoking, he never encountered, that foe to the happy feelings of
inborn presumption, truth, he felt sometimes embarrassed, when suddenly
called upon to pronounce an opinion on any abtruse point of taste. He
was always, therefore, watchful to catch hints from the dashing Miss
Arbe, since to whatever she gave her fearless sanction, he saw fashion
attached.
Nothing could be more different than the reception given to Ellis by
Lady Kendover, and that which she experienced from the Miss Crawleys.
Without any superiority to their brother in understanding, they had a
decided inferiority in education and manners. They had been brought up
by a fond uncle, in the country, with every false indulgence which can
lead to idle ease and pleasure, for the passing moment; but which teems
with that weariness, that a dearth of all rational employment nurses up
for the listless and uncultured, when folly and ignorance out-live mere
thoughtless merriment. Accustomed to follow, in every thing, the
uncontrolled bent of their own humours, they felt fatigued by the very
word decorum; and thought themselves oppressed by any representation of
what was due to propriety. Their brother, on the contrary, taking the
opposite extreme, had neither care nor wish but what related to the
opinion of the _virtuosi_: because, though possessed of whatever could
give pecuniary, he was destitute of all that could inspire mental
independence.
'Oh ho! The Ellis!' cried Miss Crawley, mimicking her brother: 'you are
come to be our school-mistress, are you? Quick, quick, Di; put on your
dumpish face, and begin your task.'
'Be quiet, be quiet!' cried Miss Di; 'I shall like to learn of all
things. The Ellis shall make me The Crawley. Come, what's to be done,
The Ellis? Begin, begin!'
'And finish, finish!' cried the eldest: 'I can't bear to be long about
any thing: there's nothing so fogrum.'
Their brother, now, ventured, gently, to caution them not to make use of
the word fogrum, which, he assured them, was by no means received in
good company.
'O, I hate good company!' cried the eldest: 'It always makes me fall
asleep.'
'So do I,' cried the youngest; 'except when I take upon myself to wake
it. O! that's the delight of my life! to run wild upon a set of formals,
who think one brainless, only because one is not drowsy. Do you know any
fogrums of that sort, brother?'
The merriment that this question, which they meant to be personal,
occasioned, extremely confused Sir Marmaduke; and his evident
consciousness flung them into such immoderate laughter, that the new
mistress was forced to desist from all attempt at instruction, till it
subsided; which was not till their brother, shrugging his shoulders,
with shame and mortification, left the room.
Yawning, then, with exhausted spirits, they desired to be set to work.
Proficiency they had no chance, for they had no wish to make; but Ellis,
from this time, attended them twice a-week; and Sir Marmaduke was
gratified by the assurances of Miss Arbe, that all the world praised his
taste, for choosing them so accomplished an instructress.
The fourth scholar that the same patronage procured for Ellis, was a
little girl of eleven years of age, whose mother, Lady Arramede, the
nearly ruined widow of a gamester peer, sacrificed every comfort to
retain the equipage, and the establishment, that she had enjoyed during
the life of her luxurious lord. Her table, except when she had company,
was never quite sufficient for her family; her dress, except when she
visited, was always old, mended, and out of fashion; and the education
of her daughter, though destined to be of the first order, was
extracted, in common with her gala dinners, and gala ornaments, from
these daily savings. Ellis, therefore, from the very moderate price at
which Miss Arbe, for the purpose of obliging her own various friends,
had fixed her instructions, was a treasure to Lady Arramede; who had
never before so completely found, what she was always indefatigably
seeking, a professor not more cheap than fashionable.
On the part of the professor, the satisfaction was not quite mutual.
Lady Arramede, reduced by her great expences in public, to the most
miserable parsimony in private, joined, to a lofty desire of high
consideration in the world, a constant alarm lest her pecuniary
difficulties should be perceived. The low terms, therefore, upon which
Ellis taught, though the real inducement for her being employed, urged
the most arrogant reception of the young instructress, in the
apprehension that she might, else, suspect the motive to her admission;
and the instant that she entered the room, her little pupil was hurried
to the instrument, that she might not presume to imagine it possible,
that she could remain in the presence of her ladyship, even for a
moment, except to be professionally occupied.
Yet was she by no means more niggardly in bestowing favour, than
rapacious in seeking advantage. Her thoughts were constantly employed in
forming interrogatories for obtaining musical information, by which her
daughter might profit in the absence of the mistress; though she made
them without troubling herself to raise her eyes, except when she did
not comprehend the answer; and then, her look was of so haughty a
character, that she seemed rather to be demanding satisfaction than
explication.
The same address, also, accompanied her desire to hear the pieces, which
her daughter began learning, performed by the mistress: she never made
this request till the given hour was more than passed; and made it then
rather as if she were issuing a command, for the execution of some
acknowledged duty, than calling forth talents, or occupying time, upon
which she could only from courtesy have any claim.
Miss Brinville, the fifth pupil of Ellis, was a celebrated beauty, who
had wasted her bloom in a perpetual search of admiration; and lost her
prime, without suspecting that it was gone, in vain and ambitious
difficulties of choice. Yet her charms, however faded and changed,
still, by candle-light, or when adroitly shaded, through a becoming
skill in the arrangement of her head-dress, appeared nearly in their
first lustre; and in this view it was that they were always present to
herself; though, by the world, the altered complexion, sunk eyes, and
enlarged features, exhibited by day-light, or by common attire, were
all, except through impertinent retrospection, that were any more
noticed.
She was just arrived at Brighthelmstone, with her mother, upon a visit
to an acquaintance, whom that lady had engaged to invite them, with a
design of meeting Sir Lyell Sycamore, a splendid young baronet, with
whom Miss Brinville had lately danced at a private ball; where, as he
saw her for the first time, and saw her to every advantage which well
chosen attire, animated vanity, and propitious wax-light could give, he
had fallen desperately enamoured of her beauty; and had so vehemently
lamented having promised to join a party to Brighthelmstone, that both
the mother and the daughter concluded, that they had only to find a
decent pretence for following him, to secure the prostration of his
title and fortune at their feet. And though similar expectations, from
gentlemen of similar birth and estate, had already, at least fifty
times, been disappointed, they were just as sanguine, in the present
instance, as if, new to the world, and inexperienced in its ways, they
were now receiving their first lessons, upon the fallaciousness of
self-appreciation: so slight is the impression made, even where our
false judgment is self-detected, by wounds to our vanity! and so elastic
is the re-bound of that hope, which originates in our personal estimation
of our deserts!
The young Baronet, indeed, no sooner heard of the arrival at
Brighthelmstone of the fair one who had enchanted him, than, wild with
rapture, he devoted all his soul to expected extacies. But when, the
next morning, fine and frosty, though severely cold, he met her upon the
Steyn, her complexion and her features were so different to those yet
resting, in full beauty, upon his memory, that he looked at her with a
surprise mingled with a species of indignation, as at a caricature of
herself.
Miss Brinville, though too unconscious of her own double appearance to
develope what passed in his mind, was struck and mortified by his change
of manner. The bleak winds which blew sharply from the sea, giving
nearly its own blue-green hue to her skin, while all that it bestowed of
the carnation's more vivid glow, visited the feature which they least
become, but which seems always the favourite wintry hot-bed of the ruddy
tints; in completing what to the young Baronet seemed an entire
metamorphosis, drove him fairly from the field. The wondering heroine
was left in a consternation that usefully, however disagreeably, might
have whispered to her some of those cruel truths which are always
buzzing around faded beauties,--missing no ears but their own!--had she
not been hurried, by her mother, into a milliner's shop, to make some
preparations for a ball to which she was invited for the evening. There,
again, she saw the Baronet, to whose astonished sight she appeared with
all her first allurements. Again he danced with her, again was
captivated; and again the next morning recovered his liberty. Yet Miss
Brinville made no progress in self-perception: his changes were
attributed to caprice or fickleness; and her desire grew but more urgent
to fix her wavering conquest.
At the dinner at Lady Kendover's, where Miss Arbe brought forward the
talents and the plan of Ellis, such a spirit was raised, to procure
scholars amongst the young ladies of fashion then at Brighthelmstone;
and it seemed so youthful to become a pupil, that Miss Brinville feared,
if left out, she might be considered as too old to enter such lists. Yet
her total ignorance of music, and a native dull distaste to all the
arts, save the millinery, damped her wishes with want of resolution;
till an exclamation of Sir Lyell Sycamore's, that nothing added so much
grace to beauty as playing upon the harp, gave her sudden strength and
energy, to beg to be set down, by Miss Arbe, as one of the first
scholars for her _protegee_.
Ellis was received by her with civility, but treated with the utmost
coldness. The sight of beauty at its height, forced a self-comparison of
no exhilarating nature; and, much as she built upon informing Sir Lyell
of her lessons, she desired nothing less than shewing him from whom they
were received. To sit at the harp so as to justify the assertion of the
Baronet, became her principal study; and the glass before which she
tried her attitudes and motions, told her such flattering tales, that
she soon began to think the harp the sweetest instrument in the world,
and that to practise it was the most delicious of occupations.
Ellis was too sincere to aid this delusion. Of all her pupils, no one
was so utterly hopeless as Miss Brinville, whom she found equally
destitute of ear, taste, intelligence, and application. The same
direction twenty times repeated, was not better understood than the
first moment that it was uttered. Naturally dull, she comprehended
nothing that was not familiar to her; and habitually indolent, because
brought up to believe that beauty would supply every accomplishment, she
had no conception of energy, and not an idea of diligence.
Ellis, whose mind was ardent, and whose integrity was incorrupt, felt an
honourable anxiety to fulfil the duties of her new profession, though
she had entered upon them merely from motives of distress. She was
earnest, therefore, for the improvement of her pupils; and conceived the
laudable ambition, to merit what she might earn, by their advancement.
And though one amongst them, alone, manifested any genius; in all of
them, except Miss Brinville, she saw more of carelessness, or idleness,
than of positive, incapacity. But here, the darkness of all musical
apprehension was so impenetrable, that not a ray of instruction could
make way through it; and Ellis who, though she saw that to study her
looks at the instrument was her principal object, had still imagined
that to learn music came in for some share in taking lessons upon the
harp, finding it utterly vain to try to make her distinguish one note
from another, held her own probity called upon to avow her opinion;
since she saw herself the only one who could profit from its
concealment.
Gently, therefore, and in terms the most delicate that she could select,
she communicated her fears to Mrs Brinville, that the talents of Miss
Brinville were not of a musical cast.
Mrs Brinville, with a look that said, What infinite impertinence!
declared herself extremely obliged by this sincerity; and summoned her
daughter to the conference.
Miss Brinville, colouring with the deepest resentment, protested that
she was never so well pleased as in hearing plain truth; but each made
an inclination of her head, that intimated to Ellis that she might
hasten her departure: and the first news that reached her the next
morning was, that Miss Brinville had sent for a celebrated and expensive
professor, then accidentally at Brighthelmstone, to give her lessons
upon the harp.
Miss Arbe, from whom Ellis received this intelligence, was extremely
angry with her for the strange, and what she called unheard-of measure
that she had taken. 'What had you,' she cried, 'to do with their manner
of wasting their money? Every one chooses to throw it away according to
his own taste. If rich people have not that privilege, I don't see how
they are the better for not being poor.'
The sixth scholar whom Ellis undertook, was sister to Sir Lyell
Sycamore. She possessed a real genius for music, though it was so little
seconded by industry, that whatever she could not perform without labour
or time, she relinquished. Thus, though all she played was executed in a
truly fine style, nothing being practised, nothing was finished; and
though she could amuse herself, and charm her auditors, with almost
every favourite passage that she heard, she could not go through a
single piece; could play nothing by book; and hardly knew her notes.
Nevertheless, Ellis found her so far superiour, in musical capacity, to
every other pupil that had fallen to her charge, that she conceived a
strong desire to make her the fine player that her talents fitted her
for becoming.
Her utmost exertions, however, and warmest wishes, were insufficient for
this purpose. The genius with which Miss Sycamore was endowed for music,
was unallied to any soft harmonies of temper, or of character: she was
presumptuous, conceited, and gaily unfeeling. If Ellis pressed her to
more attention, she hummed an air, without looking at her; if she
remonstrated against her neglect, she suddenly stared at her, though
without speaking. She had a haughty indifference about learning; but it
was not from an indifference to excel; 'twas from a firm self-opinion,
that she excelled already. If she could not deny, that Ellis executed
whole pieces, in as masterly a manner as she could herself play only
chosen passages, she deemed that a mere mechanical part of the art,
which, as a professor, Ellis had been forced to study; and which she
herself, therefore, rather held cheap than respected.
Ellis, at first, seriously lamented this wayward spirit, which wasted
real talents; but all interest for her pupil soon subsided; and all
regret concentrated in having such a scholar to attend; for the manners
of Miss Sycamore had an excess of insolence, that rather demanded apathy
than philosophy to be supported, by those who were in any degree within
her power. Ellis was treated by her with a sort of sprightly defiance,
that sometimes seemed to arise from gay derision; at others, from
careless haughtiness. Miss Sycamore, who gave little attention to the
rumours of her history, saw her but either as a Wanderer, of blighted
fortune, and as such looked down upon her with contempt; or as an
indigent young woman of singular beauty, and as such, with far less
willingness, looked up to her with envy.
Twice a-week, also, Selina, with the connivance, though not with the
avowed consent of Mrs Maple, came from Lewes, to continue her musical
lessons, at the house of Lady Kendover, or of Miss Arramede.
Such was the set which the powerful influence of Miss Arbe procured for
the opening campaign of Ellis; and to this set its own celebrity soon
added another name. It was not, indeed, one which Miss Arbe would have
deigned to put upon her list; but Ellis, who had no pride to support in
her present undertaking, save the virtuous and right pride of owing
independence to her own industry, as readily accepted a preferred
scholar from the daughter of a common tradesman, as she had accepted the
daughter of an Earl, whom she taught at Lady Kendover's.
Mr Tedman, a grocer, who had raised a very large fortune, was now at
Brighthelmstone, with his only daughter and heiress, at whose desire he
called at Miss Matson's, to enquire for the famous music-teacher.
Ellis, hearing that he was an elderly man, conceived what might be his
business, and admitted him. Much surprised by her youthful appearance,
'Good now, my dear,' he cried, 'why to be sure it can't be you as
pretends to learn young misses music? and even misses of quality, as I
am told? It's more likely it's your mamma; put in case you've got one.'
When Ellis had set him right, he took five guineas from his purse, and
said, 'Well, then, my dear, come to my darter, and give her as much of
your tudeling as will come to this. And I think, by then, she'll be able
to twiddle over them wires by herself.'
The hours of attendance being then settled, he looked smirkingly in her
face, and added, 'Which of us two is to hold the stakes, you or I?'
shaking the five guineas between his hands. But when she assured him
that she had not the most distant desire to anticipate such an
appropriation, he assumed an air of generous affluence, and assuring
her, in return, that he was not afraid to trust her, counted two guineas
and a half a guinea, upon the table, and said, 'So if you please, my
dear, we'll split the difference.'
Ellis found the daughter yet more innately, though less obviously,
vulgar; and far more unpleasant, because uncivil, than the father. In a
constant struggle to hide the disproportion of her origin, and early
habits, with her present pretensions to fashion, she was tormented by an
incessant fear of betraying, that she was as little bred as born to the
riches which she now possessed. This made her always authoritative with
her domestics, or inferiours, to keep them in awe; pert with gentlemen,
by way of being genteel; and rude with ladies, to shew herself their
equal.
Mr Tedman conceived, immediately, a warm partiality for Ellis, whose
elegant manners, which, had he met with her in high life, would have
distanced him by their superiority, now attracted him irresistibly, in
viewing them but as good-nature. He called her his pretty tudeler, and
bid her make haste to earn her five guineas; significantly adding, that,
if his daughter were not finished before they were gone, he was rich
enough to make them ten.