for above half a year after Sir Edward's return; who, at length, unable
to confine in silence a passion which had long been obvious to every
observer, took an opportunity, when alone with Louisa, to declare his
attachment in the most affecting manner. She received it not with
surprise, but with real sorrow. She had no tincture of coquetry in her
composition; but if she had been capable of it, her affections were too
deeply engaged to have suffered her to retain it. Her sensibility was
never so strongly awakened; all her endeavours to restrain it were no
longer of force, her heart returned his passion, and would have
conquered every thing but her justice and her honour; these were deeply
engaged to Lady Lambton; and she would have detested herself if she
could have entertained a thought of making that lady's goodness to her
the occasion of the greatest vexation she could receive. She therefore
never hesitated on the part she should act on this trying occasion; but
the victories which honour gains over the tender affections are not to
be obtained without the severest pangs. Thus tormented by the struggles
between duty and affection, she was not immediately capable of giving
him an answer, but finding that her difficulties were increasing by his
repeated professions, and animated by the necessity of silencing a love
which too successfully solicited a return of affection, she assumed a
sufficient command over herself to conceal her sentiments, and with
averted eyes, lest her heart should through them contradict her words,
she told him, he distressed her to the greatest degree; that the respect
she had for him on account of his own merit, and not less for the
relation he bore to Lady Lambton, made her extremely concerned that he
should have conceived a passion for her, which it was not in her power
to return; nor could she listen to it in justice to Lady Lambton, to
whom she was bound in all the ties of gratitude; neither should anything
ever prevail with her to do any thing prejudicial to the interests of a
family into which she had been so kindly received.
Sir Edward was too much in love to acquiesce in so nice a point of
honour; but Louisa would not wait to hear arguments which it was so
painful to her to refute, and retired into her own chamber, to lament in
secret her unhappy fate in being obliged to reject the addresses of a
man whose affections, were she at liberty, she would think no sacrifice
too great to obtain.
Miss Mancel endeavoured as much as possible to avoid giving Sir Edward
any opportunity of renewing his addresses; but his vigilance found the
means of seeing her alone more than once, when he warmly urged the
partiality of her behaviour, representing how much more his happiness
was concerned in the success of a passion which possessed his whole
soul, than his grandmother's could be in disappointing it. She, he
observed, was actuated only by pride, he by the sincerest love that ever
took place in a human heart. In accepting his addresses Louisa could
only mortify Lady Lambton; in rejecting them, she must render him
miserable. Which, he asked, had the best title to her regard, the woman
who could ungenerously and injudiciously set a higher value on riches
and birth than on her very superior excellencies, or the man who would
gladly sacrifice fortune and every other enjoyment the world could
afford, to the possession of her; of her who alone could render life
desirable to him? By these, and many other arguments, and what was more
prevalent than all the arguments that could be deduced from reason, by
the tenderest intreaties that the most ardent passion could dictate, Sir
Edward endeavoured to persuade Louisa to consent to marry him, but all
proved unavailing. She sometimes thought what he said was just, but
aware of her partiality, she could not believe herself an unprejudiced
judge, and feared that she might mistake the sophistry of love for the
voice of reason. She was sure while honour, truth and gratitude pleaded
against inclination they must be in the right, though their
remonstrances were hushed into a whisper by the louder solicitations of
passion. Convinced that she could not be to blame while she acted in
contradiction to her secret choice, since the sincerity of her
intentions were thereby plainly, though painfully evinced, she persisted
in refusing to become Sir Edward's wife, and told him, that if he did
not discontinue his addresses, he would force her to leave the house,
and retire to any place that would afford her a quiet refuge from his
importunity.
A hint of this sort was sufficient to drive Sir Edward almost to
distraction, and Louisa dared not pursue the subject. When he found she
could not be induced to consent to an immediate marriage, he endeavoured
to obtain a promise of her hand after Lady Lambton's decease, though to
a man of his impatient and strong passions such a delay was worse than
death; but Miss Mancel told him, by such an engagement she should be
guilty of a mean evasion, and that she should think it as great a breach
of honour as marrying him directly.
The despair to which Louisa's conduct reduced Sir Edward, whose love
seemed to increase with the abatement of his hopes, was very visible to
his grandmother, but her pride was invincible; neither her affection for
him, nor her great esteem for Miss Mancel's merit, could conquer her
aversion to their union. She saw them both unhappy, but was convinced
the pangs they felt would not be of very long continuance, trusting to
the usual inconstancy of young persons, while the inconveniencies
attending an incumbered fortune, and the disgrace which she imagined
must be the consequence of Sir Edward's marrying a woman of obscure
birth, would be permanent and influence the whole course of his life.
Louisa, unable to support so hard a conflict, continually resisting both
her lover and her love, was determined to seek some relief from absence.
She wrote Mr d'Avora a faithful account of all the difficulties of her
situation, and intreated him to receive her into his house, till he
could find some proper place wherein to fix her abode.
This worthy friend approved her conduct, while he grieved for her
distress; his honest heart felt a secret indignation against Lady
Lambton who could, by false pride, be blinded to the honour which he
thought such a woman as Miss Mancel must reflect on any family into
which she entered. He wrote that young lady word, that she might be
assured of the best reception his house could afford, and every service
that it was in his power to render her; desiring that she would let him
know when she proposed setting out, that he might meet her on the road,
not thinking it proper she should travel alone.
This letter gave Miss Mancel much satisfaction; she was now secure of an
asylum; but the great difficulty still remained, she knew not how to get
away from Lady Lambton's in a proper manner; for to go clandestinely was
not suitable to her character, and might bring it into suspicion. In
this dilemma she thought it best to apply to that lady, and with her
usual frankness told her (what had not escaped her discernment) the
affection Sir Edward had conceived for her, and the return her own heart
made to it; only suppressing his solicitations, as her ladyship might be
offended with his proceeding so far without her consent. She represented
the imprudence of her continuing in the house with Sir Edward, whereby
both his passion and her own must be increased; and yet she was at a
loss how to depart privately, but was convinced it could not be affected
with his knowledge, without such an eclat as must be very disagreeable
to them all; nor could she answer for her own resolution when put to so
severe a trial; as she should have more than her full measure of
affliction in going from thence, without being witness to its effect on
him.
One should have imagined that the generosity of Miss Mancel's conduct
might have influenced Lady Lambton in her favour; but though it
increased her esteem, it did not alter her resolution. With inexcusable
insensibility she concerted measures with her, and engaged to procure
Sir Edward's absence for a short time. Some very necessary business
indeed demanded his presence in a neighbouring county where the greatest
part of his estate lay, but he had not been able to prevail on himself
to leave Louisa; too much enamoured to think any pecuniary advantage
could compensate for the loss of her company. But as it was natural that
an old grandmother should see the matter in another light; her pressing
him to go and settle his affairs gave him no cause to suspect any latent
meaning, and was too reasonable to be any longer opposed.
Though Sir Edward was resolved on so quick a dispatch of business as
promised him a speedy return, yet any separation from Miss Mancel,
however short, appeared a severe misfortune. The evening before the day
of his departure, he contrived to see her alone and renewed his
importunities with redoubled ardour, but with no better success than
before. He lamented the necessity he was under of leaving her, though
but for a little time, with an agony of mind better suited to an eternal
separation. She, who saw it in that light, was overcome with the tender
distress which a person must feel at taking a final leave of one who is
extremely dear to her. Her own grief was more than she could have
concealed; but when she anticipated in her thoughts what he would suffer
when he knew he had lost her for ever, and judged from the pain he felt
on the approach of what he thought so short an absence, how very great
his distress would be, she was unable to support the scene with her
usual steadiness. Tears insensibly stole down her face and bestowed on
it still greater charms than it had ever yet worn, by giving her an air
of tenderness, which led him to hope that she did not behold his passion
with indifference. This thought afforded him a consolation which he had
never before received; and though it increased his love, yet it abated
his distress, and rendered him more able to leave her, since he
flattered himself she would with pleasure see him return, which he was
now more than ever resolved to do as speedily as possible.
The day of his departure she spent chiefly in her own room, to conceal,
as far as she was able, a weakness she was ashamed of but could not
conquer. She had written the day before to inform Mr d'Avora that she
should set out for London four days after her letter. Accordingly at the
time appointed, after having agreed with Lady Lambton that Sir Edward
must be kept ignorant of the place to which she was gone, she set out
with that lady, who carried her in her coach twelve miles of the way and
then delivered her to Mr d'Avora, who was come thither to receive her.
Lady Lambton could not part with her amiable companion without regret,
and expressed her true sense of her merit in such strong terms to Mr
d'Avora, who could not forgive that pride which had occasioned so much
pain both to Louisa and Sir Edward, that he told her in plain terms how
very happy and how much honoured any man must be who had her for his
wife. Perhaps Lady Lambton would have subscribed to his opinion, had any
one but her grandson been concerned; but the point was too tender, and
it was no small command over herself that prevented her giving the good
old man a hint that she thought him impertinent.
Our travellers arrived in town the next day, after a melancholy journey,
for even the company of a friend she so much loved and esteemed could
not restore Miss Mancel's natural vivacity, though in compassion to the
good old man who sympathized tenderly in her distress she endeavoured to
the utmost of her power to conceal how very deeply she was afflicted. It
was some little time before her spirits were sufficiently composed to
form any scheme for her future life, nor were they benefited by a letter
from Lady Lambton which acquainted her that Sir Edward, at his return,
finding she had left the place, that his grandmother had consented to
her departure and refused to tell him where she was gone, was for some
days frantic with rage and grief, and had just then left Lady Lambton
with a determination to serve as volunteer in the army in Germany, in
hopes, he said, to find there a release from his afflictions, which
nothing but the hand of death could bestow.
The old lady was much shocked at this event, but hoped a little time
would restore his reason and enable him to bear his disappointment with
patience. There was room to believe, she said, that the rest of the
campaign would pass over without a battle, and if so the change of scene
might abate his passion.
Louisa's heart was too tenderly engaged to reason so philosophically,
she was almost distracted with her fears, and was often inclined to
blame her own scruples that had driven so worthy a man to such
extremities. All Mr d'Avora could urge to reconcile her to herself and
to calm her apprehensions for Sir Edward were scarcely sufficient to
restore her to any ease of mind; but at length he brought her to submit
patiently to her fate and to support her present trial with constancy.
They were still undetermined as to her future establishment when Mr
d'Avora one day met an old acquaintance and countryman in the street. As
this person had many years before returned to his native country, Mr
d'Avora inquired what had again brought him into England? His friend
replied that he was come in quality of factotum to a widow lady of
fortune. In the course of their conversation he asked Mr d'Avora if he
could recommend a waiting woman to his lady, hers having died on the
road. The character this man gave of his mistress inclined Mr d'Avora to
mention the place to Miss Mancel, who readily agreed that he should
endeavour to obtain it for her.
Mr d'Avora had engaged the man to call on him the next day by telling
him he believed he might be able to recommend a most valuable young
person to his lady. He was punctual to his appointment and conducted Mr
d'Avora and Louisa to Mrs Thornby's, that was the name of the lady in
question.
Miss Mancel was dressed with care, but of a very different sort from
what is usually aimed at; all her endeavours had been to conceal her
youth and beauty as much as possible under great gravity of dress, and
to give her all the disadvantages consistent with neatness and
cleanliness. But such art was too thin a veil to hide her charms. Mrs
Thornby was immediately struck with her beauty, and made some scruple of
taking a young person into her service whom she should look upon as a
great charge, and she feared her maid might require more attention from
her than she should think necessary for any servant to pay to herself.
Mr d'Avora represented to her how cruel it was that beauty, which was
looked upon as one of the most precious gifts of nature, should
disqualify a young woman for obtaining a necessary provision. That this
young person's prudence was so irreproachable as sufficiently secured
her from any disadvantages which might naturally be feared from it. But
still he allowed her person would justly deter a married woman from
receiving her, and might make a cautious mother avoid it, since her good
conduct would rather add to than diminish her attractions, therefore it
was only with a single lady she could hope to be placed; and he was well
convinced that such a one would have reason to think herself happy in so
accomplished a servant; since her mind was still more amiable than her
person.
Mrs Thornby allowed what he said to be reasonable and was so charmed
with Louisa's appearance that she assured him she would receive her with
pleasure. She was in haste for a servant, and Miss Mancel had no reason
to delay her attendance, therefore it was agreed she should enter into
her place the next day.
When Lady Lambton took leave of Louisa she would have forced her to
receive a very handsome present; Louisa had accepted many while she
lived with her ladyship, but at this time she said it would look like
receiving a compensation for the loss of Sir Edward; and as she chose to
sacrifice both her inclinations and happiness to her regard for Lady
Lambton, she could not be induced to accept any thing that looked like a
reward for an action which if she had not thought it her duty, nothing
would have prevailed with her to perform. The tenderest affections of
her heart were too much concerned in what she had done to leave her the
power of feeling any apprehensions of poverty; all the evils that attend
it then appeared to her so entirely external that she beheld them with
the calm philosophy of a stoic and not from a very contrary motive; the
insensibility of each arose from a ruling passion; the stoic's from
pride, hers from love. But though she feared not poverty, she saw it was
advisable to fix upon some establishment as soon as it could be
obtained; and therefore received great satisfaction from being assured
of Mrs Thornby's acceptance of her services. Mr d'Avora was not without
hopes, that if Sir Edward continued constant till Lady Lambton's death,
Louisa might then, without any breach of honour or gratitude, marry him;
though to have engaged herself to do so, would, as she observed, have
been scarcely less inexcusable than an immediate consent; therefore he
advised her to assume another name, as Sir Edward might not choose,
after she was his wife, to have it known that she had been reduced to
servitude.
Louisa was accordingly received at Mrs Thornby's by the name of Menil.
Her good sense and assiduity enabled her to acquit herself so well in
her new place as greatly delighted her mistress; and though she
concealed the greatest part of her accomplishments, sensible they could
be of no assistance, and might on the contrary raise a prejudice against
her; yet her behaviour and conversation so plainly indicated a superior
education that before she had been there a week Mrs Thornby told her she
was certain she had not been born for the station she was then in, and
begged a particular account of her whole life.
Louisa, fearing that a compliance would render her less agreeable to her
mistress, who already treated her with respect which seemed more than
was due to her situation, and often appeared uneasy at seeing her
perform the necessary duties of her place, intreated to be spared a task
which, she said, was attended with some circumstances so melancholy as
greatly affected her spirits on a particular recollection.
Mrs Thornby's curiosity was not abated by this insinuation, and she
repeated her request in a manner so importunate, and at the same time so
kind, that Louisa could no longer, without manifest disrespect, decline
it.
She began then by acquainting her that she went by a borrowed name; but
had proceeded no farther in her narration than to tell her that her real
name was Mancel and that she had been left to the care of an aunt in her
earliest infancy by parents who were obliged, for reasons she could
never learn, to leave their country, when Mrs Thornby exclaimed, My
child! my child! and sinking on her knees, with eyes and hands lifted up
towards heaven, poured forth a most ardent thanksgiving, with an ecstasy
of mind not to be described. Her first sensation was that of gratitude
to the Almighty Power, who had reserved so great a blessing for her;
maternal tenderness alone gave rise to the succeeding emotions of her
heart; she threw her arms round Louisa, who on seeing her fall on her
knees, and not comprehending the meaning of her action, ran to her; but
struck with astonishment and reverence at the awful piety in her
countenance and address, bent silent and motionless over her. Mrs
Thornby, leaning her head on Louisa's bosom, burst into such a flood of
tears, and was so oppressed with joy, that the power of speech totally
failed her. Louisa raised her from the ground, crying, 'Dear madam, what
can all this mean? What does this extreme agitation of your mind give me
room to hope?'
'Every thing, my child! my angel! that a fond parent can bestow,'
replied Mrs Thornby. 'I am that mother that was obliged to leave thee to
another's care; and has Heaven preserved my daughter, and restored her
to me so lovely, so amiable! Gracious Providence! Merciful beyond hope!
Teach me to thank thee as I ought for this last instance of thy
goodness!' And then her whole soul seemed again poured forth in grateful
adoration.
Louisa could scarcely believe this event was real; thus unexpectedly to
meet with a parent whom she supposed lost to her for ever almost
stunned her; her thoughts were so engrossed by the raptures of her
joyful mother that she did not feel half her good fortune; and the
delight she received in seeing her mother's happiness robbed her of
every other sensation.
It was some hours before Mrs Thornby's mind was sufficiently composed to
enter into any connected conversation. From broken sentences Miss Mancel
learnt that her father and mother, by the complicated distress of ruined
fortune and the too fatal success of a duel in which Mr Mancel was
unwillingly engaged, had been obliged to absent themselves from England.
They went to one of the American colonies, in hopes of finding means to
improve their circumstances, leaving the young Louisa, then in her
cradle, with a sister of Mr Mancel's, who readily undertook the care of
her. They were scarcely arrived in America when Mr Mancel was seized
with a fever, of which he soon died, and with him all their hopes. Mrs
Mancel was left entirely destitute, at a loss how to hazard the tedious
passage home, without the protection of a husband and with hardly a
sufficient sum remaining to discharge the expenses of it.
Her melancholy situation engaged some of the inhabitants of the place to
offer her all necessary accommodations, till she could find a proper
opportunity of returning to England. During this time, Mr Thornby, a
gentleman who had acquired a fortune there, saw her, and was so well
pleased with her person and conduct that he very warmly solicited her to
marry him. Every person spoke in his favour, and urged her to consent;
her poverty was no faint adviser, and with general approbation at the
conclusion of the first year of her widowhood she became his wife.
His affairs soon called him into a more inland part of the country, to
which she attributed her never having heard from her sister, to whom she
wrote an account of her husband's death; but by what Miss Mancel told
her she imagined her letter had not been received.
Mr and Mrs Thornby continued in the same place, till about two years
before her arrival in England; but his health growing extremely bad, he
was advised by his physicians to return to Europe. He wished to
re-visit his native country but was persuaded, for the re-establishment
of his constitution, to spend some time in Italy. The climate at first
seemed to relieve him, but his complaints returning with greater
violence, he died in the latter part of the second year of his abode
there.
His estate in the Indies he bequeathed to a nephew who lived upon the
spot; but the money he had sent before him into England, which amounted
to forty thousand pounds, he left to his widow. He had desired to be
interred at Florence, where he died. As soon as the funeral was over,
and some other necessary affairs settled, Mrs Thornby set out for
England, where she no sooner arrived than she employed intelligent
persons to find out her sister-in-law and daughter, but had not received
any account from them, when her daughter was restored to her as the free
gift of providence.
Mrs Thornby was now more desirous than ever to hear each minute
particular that had befallen her Louisa; but Louisa begged that before
she obeyed her orders she might have permission to communicate the happy
event to Mr d'Avora, whose joy she knew would be nearly equal to her
own. A messenger was dispatched for this purpose, and then she related
circumstantially all the incidents in her short life, except her partial
regard to Sir Edward Lambton, which filial awe induced her to suppress.
Mrs Thornby grew every day more delighted with her daughter, as her
acquired accomplishments and natural excellencies became more
conspicuous on longer acquaintance. Her maternal love seemed to glow
with greater warmth for having been so long stifled, and Louisa found
such delight in the tender affection of a mother that she was scarcely
sensible of the agreeable change in her situation, which was now in
every circumstance the most desirable. All that fortune could give she
had it in her power to enjoy, and that esteem which money cannot
purchase her own merit secured her, besides all the gratification a
young woman can receive from general admiration. But still Louisa was
not happy, her fears for Sir Edward's life, while in so dangerous a
situation, would not suffer her mind to be at peace. She might hope
every thing from her mother's indulgence, but had not courage to confess
her weakness, nor to intimate a wish, which might occasion her
separation from a parent whose joy in their reunion still rose to
rapture. Chance, that deity which though blind is often a powerful
friend, did what she could not prevail on herself to do.