When the above mentioned letter reached the hands of the dejected
Roseline, it alarmed and distressed her. It was however accompanied by
one from the Baron to Sir Philip had no longer any fears but his friend
would succeed in procuring a pardon for the fugitives. Again the family
of De Morney were restored to their accustomed cheerfulness, and their
friends admitted as usual; and, though Roseline shed some tears over the
fond impassioned letter of Walter, they were tears of grateful
tenderness, and she took care that her sighs and unceasing regret for
the absence of her lover should be concealed from those to whom they
would have given pain. Edeliza too was no longer under the unpleasant
necessity of concealing her love for the worthy De Willows. The heart of
Sir Philip was softened by the trials he had encountered, and all the
parent was awakened in his soul. He therefore consented to the union of
his second daughter taking place as soon as her lover could command an
income sufficient to maintain a wife and family; and, as he had many
friends in power, every one cherished hopes of his soon obtaining some
distinguished preferment.
Audrey, who was still a great favourite with her young lady, was now
solely retained to attend her person, and wholly at her command. She
considered herself therefore of some consequence, and gave herself airs
accordingly. She did not choose to mix with the common class of
servants,--truly a lady's maid's place was a place of too much
extinction to permit any familiarity with infeerors.--No sooner did
Audrey see the family restored to their usual good humour, than she
herself became more lively and chatty than ever, and all her fears of
ghosts and hobgoblins were lost in her own self-importance and
newly-acquired dignity. She afforded high entertainment not only to her
fellow-servants, but to all the rest of the family, and, to make her
character appear more ridiculous, her dress was as absurd as her
sentiments.
Whenever chance threw Mrs. Audrey in their way, it was become a matter
of course to enter into conversation with her, and the vain Abigail was
too proud of this flattering distinction not to make the most of it.
De Clavering, who was fond of the humorous, laughed at the absurdities
of Audrey, and took every opportunity of shewing her off. One day, while
he was sitting with Roseline in the apartment to which Walter had been
removed, when released from his dungeon, Audrey came abruptly into the
room, bringing in her arms the little dog frequently mentioned in the
foregoing pages. She laid him on the lap of his fond mistress, and
exclaimed, "There, madam, take the little wandering rascal. I have been
in a fine quandrary about him, and have had a blessed rambulation to
find him, and drag him from his low-bred wulger companions. To my
thinks, he is as great a rake as the king himself, God bless his
majesty; but the young Baron ought to have given him a better eddication
than to keep company with his infeerors."
"I am sure, Audrey, (said De Clavering,) you are much indebted to the
young rascal, as you call him; for the rambulation you complain of has
given so fine a glow to your complexion, so much animation to each
expressive feature, that may I die if I did not take you at first for a
painted lady, and, had I met you in the passage, am afraid I should have
been tempted to see whether those roses so fascinating and so blooming
were borrowed or natural."
"Don't talk to me of hannimation or fansenation, (cried Audrey,
indignantly drawing herself up several inches higher;) I can assure you,
Mr. Doctor, I don't choose to be consulted. I neither buys, borrows, nor
covets, roses; I neither wants to tempt or be tempted by any one; but if
I was by chance to captify a sweetheart, I dares to say I should soon
become pale enough; for I thinks love is as bad as a 'potticary's shop."
"I hope I have not offended you, Mrs. Audrey, (said De Clavering,
laughing,) I only meant to be civil, and pay the tribute due to the
bloom I observed upon your countenance."
"Fended or not, (replied Audrey,) it little matters. Servants, some
folks thinks, must not look like other people, and their blooms must be
suspected truly. However, as father Anselm often says, God made up
all.--You might as well have been silent as to the matter of my looks. I
don't want or wish gentlemen 'poticarys to ax me questions, or trouble
their heads about me."
"You would not have been half so angry with Camelford, (said De
Clavering,) had he said ten times as much to you as I have done, or had
he he kissed you as often as I once saw him, when you ran to him under
the mulberry tree."
"I don't think she would, (said Roseline, smiling,) for I know our
friend Hugh is a great favourite with every female in the family."
"Wery vell, miss, (replied Audrey, blushing as red as scarlet at the
story of the mulberry-tree,) you have a mind I see to join with the
malicious doctor to dash and confound me; but I defy his satarical
talons, and can ashure you, miss, though Mr. Camelfor is so cetious and
merry, he never proffered to kiss me more than half a dozen times in
his life."
"Take care how you reckon, Audrey, cried De Clavering, humourously,)
remember I saw you under the mulberry-tree."
"Well, what if you did?--You might as well have said nothing about it,
(replied Audrey.)--I was frightened almost into highsterricks by an ugly
black cat jumping from a lylac bush, and I ran to Mr. Camelfor without
knowing what I did, and he was so civil and perlite, God bless his
good-humoured heart, one must have been a savage to quarrel with him for
a civil kiss or two: he does not fleer or jeer people about their looks,
or tells what he sees them doing."
Neither Roseline nor De Clavering could any longer refrain from
laughing, and Camelford that moment entering the room, Audrey was so
much displeased, and in so great a hurry to be gone, that, in running to
the door, she almost beat down her favourite.
"Fat, in the name of Cot, (cried Hugh,) is the matter with the girl? She
has as many freaks and fancies in her head as a mountain coat, and is as
frolicksome too."
"You had better follow her, and make your inquiries, (said De
Clavering;) I am satisfied the damsel would tell you what brought on
her present disorder sooner than any body else."
"I am no toctor, (said Camelford,) therefore don't be playing tricks
upon me, by sending me after the tamsel, and pringing little Pertha's
anger upon me, which, may I tie in a titch, if I how how to bear."
"Oh! if you are enlisted under petticoat government, (replied De
Clavering,) I give you up as incurable,--a deserter from the thorny
paths of glory, and foresee the sword will be changed into a distaff or
a ploughshare."
"Luf (cried Camelford) must not be apused; it is the best stimulus to
crate and noble actions, the parent of pold atchievements; but of that
same luf you know nothing: there is no heart in your pody, and you are
mortified to think you cannot find a nostrum to cure the disease in
others: you must therefore be caught in luf's snares, in order to learn
the nature of those treadful tribulations it brings upon a man. May I go
to the tevil in a high wind, if I had not as lief face a canon's mouth
as meet the fire of Pertha's pright eyes, when they look indignantly
upon me!"
"Don't talk so much of the devil, Hugh, (interrupted De Clavering,) but
request him to do you the favour of kicking about your brains a little,
till they return to a more useful station in your pericranium: in my
opinion, you are in a fair way of becoming fist for the government under
which you think yourself enlisted."
"May the vengeance of all womankind fall upon you! (cried
Camelford:)--may you be tragged apout like a tancing pear, to make
sport!--may you lead asses in the tark regions of Peelzebub, for your
plasphemies against woman! and may--"
But all his farther denunciations and wishes for vengeance on De
Clavering were now interrupted by a loud screaming. Soon the door was
thrown open, and in bounced Audrey, her cap on one side, and her face as
pale as ashes.
"I have seen him, (she exclaimed,) with my own dear eyes!--his ghost, or
happorition!"
"Whose cost? (cried Camelford;) where is it?--I will teach a cost to
frighten a pretty cirl, and trive her tistracted."
The manner and appearance of Audrey were such as served to confirm the
suspicion in the mind of Roseline, and even De Clavering, till, offended
by the supposition of her being insane, she called out in her usual
peculiar stile, "Thank God! some folks are no more a lunatic than other
folks. I have all my seven senses as perfect as ever I had in my
life;--but, Christ Jasus, these are sad times, when one is not allowed
to believe their own precious eyes.--Down dropped his horse, poor beast,
all in a foam, and down tumbled the young Baron arter him, as dead as my
my dear great grandmother."
"Who are you talking of? (cried Roseline, rising with the utmost
emotion.)--Is the Baron?--is Walter?--is he dead?"
"He only died for a few minutes, (answered Audrey, and then he came
to himself--"
She had time for no more. Roseline heard the well known step of her
lover.--Walter rushed into the room, threw himself at her feet, and the
next instant caught her in his arms.
"This moment (cried he) is that for which my heart has languished! this
is a reward for all my fatigue, all my fears and anxieties!--Look up,
smile upon me, and say, my sweet Roseline, that my return gives to you
an almost equal pleasure as myself; but, first, let me inform you that I
have left London without the knowledge and permission of my father."
That Roseline rejoiced to see her lover her eyes informed him, but for a
few minutes surprise and agitation kept her silent. Sir Philip, Lady de
Morney, and the whole family, were soon assembled in the apartment to
which Walter had been directed by Audrey.
The young Baron, it may be supposed, found a cordial reception, and it
is not to be doubted but _that_ he met with from the fair object of his
affection was such as amply repaid him for his fatigue, and in his own
mind even, for the risk he had hazarded of disobliging his father. This
step, however, was owing to a hint dropped by the Baron, that it would
be agreeable and convenient, to himself, and necessary for many reasons
to his son, that they should prolong their stay in town for some weeks
beyond what had been proposed, or intended on their departure from the
castle.
On this plan being opposed by Walter, the Baron not only appeared
displeased, but resolute to carry his point. A circumstance so
distressing to his son rendered him equally determined not to submit to
such arbitrary, and, in his opinion, cruel authority; therefore, early
the next morning he sat off, without being attended by a servant, or
informing any one to what part of the globe he meant to go, and the next
day reached Bungay-castle in the manner before described.
Sir Philip de Morney, on learning these alarming circumstances from his
daughter, immediately sent off an express to inform the Baron of his
son's unexpected arrival, and of his apprehensions that the step he had
so unguardedly taken would bring his displeasure upon himself and
family, whom he seriously assured him knew nothing of his intention.
Walter, in his conversations with Roseline, told her, he found himself
so disgusted with the customs and manners of the world, and met with so
few people in it to whom he could attach himself, or for whom he felt
either respect or affection, that he determined no longer to be detained
from her in whose care his happiness was intrusted, and with whom alone
he was satisfied it could rest secure.
"And, as you condescended, (he continued,) to love and attend to me when
immured in a dungeon,--kindly smiled on me, and endeavoured to instruct
me when enveloped in ignorance, and was my friend when I appeared to
have no claims,--a solitary outcast from society, I thought you would
not be very much displeased if I forsook the world for you, who gave up
more, much more, for me, and quitted its gayest and most cheerful scenes
for the solitary gloom of a prison.
"Whatever I may still want of polish, address, and what fashionable
people stile politeness, love and my gentle Roseline can easily teach
me. From a world that I neither like nor approve, I could learn but
little, while the chosen mistress of my heart may at her pleasure make
me any thing she wishes. With her, and for her amusement, I may be
sometimes tempted to live in a crowd; without her, the world itself is
only a wide extended dungeon."
Roseline, at hearing this impassioned language from lips which, she was
satisfied, knew no guile, was too much gratified to express all she
felt. She smiled on him through her tears, and, in the softest language
affection could dictate, gently chid him for being so impetuous as to
run the risk of disobliging his father on her account, expressing a few
timid apprehensions that the Baron might be offended with her as being
the innocent cause of his son's proving refractory to his wishes; yet
she could not help secretly rejoicing in the strength of his attachment,
on which all her happiness depended.
Every thing was done by the family to give this amiable and singular
lover a reception not only suitable to his elevated rank, but
satisfactory to his feelings,--such an one as the sincerity of his
regard for Roseline demanded and deserved, while the joy which appeared
upon the animated countenances of the lovers convinced every one who saw
them, that they had fixed their hopes of felicity on a basis which the
hand of death only could shake from its foundations.
Walter, in his moments of unreserve, expressed his surprise, dislike,
and contempt, of many things, persons, and customs, which he met with in
the high circles to which he had been introduced, and concluded with
wishing that the Baron could be prevailed upon to excuse his farther
attendance, adding, it was his determined plan, so far as it met the
approbation of his beloved Roseline, to spend as much of his time as the
nature of his situation would permit in the placid bosom of retirement,
in which he hoped to make himself as useful and worthy a member of
the commonwealth as he should be if engaged in more bustling and
busy scenes.
"One would think (said De Clavering, who happened to be present when
this conversation occurred) that the young Baron had been educated by
some of our wise and ancient philosophers, and, taught by their
precepts, was convinced by them that happiness was too timid and modest
to be found in the confines of a court, or the splendors of a ball-room.
It reminds me of Enthymenes, who, speaking of the pleasures of solitude
to a man of the world, makes the following observations.
"You are compelled to a continual restraint in your dress, demeanour,
actions, and words:--your festivals are so magnificent, and our's so
mirthful!--your pleasures so superficial and so transient, and our's so
real and so constant! Have you ever in your rich apartments breathed an
air so fresh as that which we respire in the verdant arbour?--or can
your entertainments, sometimes so sumptuous, compare with the bowls of
milk which we have just drawn, or those delicious fruits we have
gathered with our hands?
"Ah! if happiness be only the health of the soul, must it not be
found in those places, where a just proportion ever reigns between our
wants and our desires, where motion is constantly followed by rest,
and where our affections are always *accompapanied by tranquillity,
breathe a free air, and enjoy the splendor of heaven.--From these
kind of comparisons we may judge which are the true riches that nature
designed for men."
"Such were the opinions and sentiments of Enthymenes, and such I find
are those of De Clavering, (replied Walter,) or he would not have
retained and repeated them with so much facility and satisfaction.--Were
my fate united with that of Miss de Morney, and had I two such friends
as De Clavering and Albert, to direct my conduct and enlarge the small
portion of knowledge I have yet been able to acquire, I should think
myself the most fortunate as well as the happiest of mankind, having
already experienced a long series of oppression from the baneful arts
and stratagems of ambition, I have learned to despise it, and, in the
gloomy and trying hour of adversity, have been taught, that fortitude,
with humility and untainted honour, can harmonize, but can never degrade
the most exalted stations, and, while they are the brightest jewels that
could adorn a crown, they enrich and ennoble the lowest peasant."
In a few days, the Baron, accompanied by Albert, arrived at the castle.
The frown which appeared upon his brow, at his first entrance, was
instantly dispersed when the trembling Roseline sunk at his feet, and
entreated him to pardon the eccentric flight of her lover, of which, as
she was the cause, if his displeasure continued, it would inflict equal
distress upon herself as upon his son.
To resist so fair a supplicant was not in the Baron's power. He tenderly
raised her from the ground, and the next morning embraced her lover. The
utmost harmony and a general cheerfulness soon prevailed, and, before
the parties separated for the night, the Baron candidly and generously
acknowledged, that, at the same age, and under the same circumstances as
his son, he believed he should have acted as he had done. "And upon the
whole, (said he,) I was not very sorry when the obstinate sighing boy
took himself away; for I was grown weary of having to introduce, and
make such frequent apologies for so absent, lifeless, and refractory
a being."
What served to reconcile matters the sooner was, that Albert, after the
sudden disappearance of his young lord, had informed his father of Mrs.
C---'s infamous stratagem to draw him into a marriage with her artful
and abandoned daughter. He was so much enraged at hearing the lengths
to which these wretches had dared to go, that strict search was made
after them, but without effect.
Walter, too, told Roseline of the designs which had been formed to
entrap him, and, while she looked at him with increased delight, she
secretly rejoiced that he had left a place which harboured a set of
people who gloried to destroy the peace of their fellow-creatures.
To make the happiness of the friendly party more perfectly complete, the
Baron informed Sir Philip and Lady de Morney that he hoped very soon to
procure a pardon for Edwin and Madeline, and to be able to restore them
to their protection.
Preparations for the marriage very soon began, the Baron humourously
observing, that, till his son was again deprived of his freedom, there
would be no knowing how to secure, or what to do with him, and declaring
he should be very glad to delegate the care of him to one whom he had no
doubt would supply his place much to the advantage of the charge he was
ready and willing to give up.
Every appendage, that wealth could purchase,--rank require,--or youth
and ambition wish to possess,--was liberally provided to grace the
nuptials of Walter Fitzosbourne and the happy Roseline de Morney.
Ah! how different were the feelings,--how delightful the prospects of
the intended bride, on this occasion, to what they had been on a former
one, when she prepared with such agonizing terrors to give her hand to
the Baron!--yet, though she could now think of approaching the altar
without reluctance, she could not entirely divest herself of those timid
fears which every gentle and virtuous female must experience when she
recollects the number of new duties upon which she is going to enter,
and that, from the moment she becomes a wife, her happiness, no longer
dependent on herself or parents, rests only on the man to whom she has
given her hand.
Walter seemed to tread on air; he was all vivacity and joy, and appeared
to have assumed a new character. The world, and every thing belonging to
it, wore a different aspect:--all, all was charming. He wondered how he
could ever have felt disgust, or cherished discontent. To his father he
was attentive and affectionate,--to his friends cordial and
complacent,--to his Roseline all that an affectionate lover could or
ought to be.
Albert was almost as happy and joyous as his master. The Baron, serene,
grateful, and contented, while Sir Philip and Lady de Morney, who found
their own consequence and comforts so much increased by this fortunate
and splendid alliance, united in blessing the hour which sent their
intended son-in-law a prisoner to Bungay-castle.