A day or two after, as Adeline was leaning on the arm of a young lady,
Glenmurray passed them, and to his respectful bow she returned a most
cordial salutation. 'Gracious me! my dear,' said her companion, 'do you
know who that man is?'
'Certainly:--it is Mr Glenmurray.'
'And do you speak to him?'
'Yes:--why should I not?'
'Dear me! Why, I am sure! Why--don't you know what he is?'
'Yes, a celebrated writer, and a man of genius.'
'Oh, that may be, Miss Mowbray: but they say one should not notice him,
because he is--'
'He is what?' said Adeline eagerly.
'I do not exactly know what; but I believe it is a French spy, or a
Jesuit.'
'Indeed?' replied Adeline laughing. 'But I am used to have better
evidence against a person than a _they say_ before I neglect an
acknowledged acquaintance: therefore, with your leave, I shall turn back
and talk a little to poor Mr Glenmurray.'
It so happened that _poor Mr Glenmurray_ heard every word of this
conversation; for he had turned round and followed Adeline and her fair
companion, to present to the former the glove which she had dropped; and
as they were prevented from proceeding by the crowd on the parade, which
was assembled to see some unusual sight, he, being immediately behind
them, could distinguish all that passed; so that Adeline turned round
to go in search of him before the blush of grateful admiration for her
kindness had left his cheek.
'Then she seeks me because I am shunned by others!' said Glenmurray
to himself. In a moment the world to him seemed to contain only two
beings, Adeline Mowbray and Frederic Glenmurray; and that Adeline,
starting and blushing with joyful surprise at seeing him so near her,
was then coming in search of him!--of him, the neglected Glenmurray!
Scarcely could he refrain catching the lovely and ungloved hand next him
to his heart; but he contented himself with keeping the glove that he
was before so eager to restore, and in a moment it was lodged in his
bosom.
Nor could 'I can't think what I have done with my glove,' which every
now and then escaped Adeline, prevail on him to own that he had found
it. At last, indeed, it became unnecessary; for Adeline, as she glanced
her eye towards Glenmurray, discovered it in the hiding-place: but,
as delicacy forbade her to declare the discovery which she had made,
he was suffered to retain his prize; though a deep and sudden blush
which overspread his cheek, and a sudden pause which she made in her
conversation, convinced Glenmurray that she had detected his secret.
Perhaps he was not sorry--nor Adeline; but certain it is that Adeline
was for the remainder of the morning more lost in reverie than ever her
mother had been; and that from that day every one, but Adeline and
Glenmurray, saw that they were mutually enamoured.
Glenmurray was the first of the two lovers to perceive that they were
so; and he made the discovery with a mixture of pain and pleasure. For
what could be the result of such an attachment? He was firmly resolved
never to marry; and it was very unlikely that Adeline, though she had
often expressed to him her approbation of his writings and opinions,
should be willing to sacrifice everything to love, and become his
mistress. But a circumstance took place which completely removed his
doubts on this subject.
Several weeks had elapsed since the first arrival of the Mowbrays at
Bath, and in that time almost all their acquaintances had left them one
by one; but neither Mrs Mowbray nor Adeline had paid much attention to
this circumstance. Mrs Mowbray's habits of abstraction, as usual, made
her regardless of common occurrences; and to these were added the more
delightful reverie occasioned by the attentions of a very handsome and
insinuating man, and the influence of a growing passion. Mrs Mowbray,
as we have before observed, married from duty, not inclination; and to
the passion of love she had remained a total stranger, till she became
acquainted at Bath with Sir Patrick O'Carrol. Yes; Mrs Mowbray was in
love for the first time when she was approaching her fortieth year! and
a woman is never so likely to be the fool of love, as when it assails
her late in life, especially if a lover be as great a novelty to her as
the passion itself. Though not, alas! restored to a second youth, the
tender victim certainly enjoys a second childhood, and exhibits but too
openly all the little tricks and _minaudieres_ of a love-sick girl,
without the youthful appearance that in a degree excuses them. This was
the case with Mrs Mowbray; and while, regardless of her daughter's
interest and happiness, she was lost in the pleasing hopes of marrying
the agreeable baronet, no wonder the cold neglect of her Bath associates
was not seen by her.
Adeline, engrossed also by the pleasing reveries of a first love, was
as unconscious of it as herself. Indeed she thought of nothing but love
and Glenmurray; else, she could not have failed to see, that, while Sir
Patrick's attentions and flatteries were addressed to her mother, his
ardent looks and passionate sighs were all directed to herself.
Sir Patrick O'Carrol was a young Irishman, of an old family but an
encumbered estate; and it was his wish to set his estate free by
marrying a rich wife, and one as little disagreeable as possible. With
this view he came to Bath; and in Mrs Mowbray he not only beheld a woman
of large independent fortune, but possessed of great personal beauty,
and young enough to be attractive. Still, though much pleased with the
wealth and appearance of the mother, he soon became enamoured of the
daughter's person; and had he not gone so far in his addresses to Mrs
Mowbray as to make it impossible she should willingly transfer him to
Adeline, and give her a fortune at all adequate to his wants, he would
have endeavoured honourably to gain her affections, and entered the
lists against the favoured Glenmurray.
But, as he wanted the mother's wealth, he resolved to pursue his
advantage with her, and trust to some future chance for giving him
possession of the daughter. In his dealings with men, Sir Patrick was
a man of honour; in his dealings with women, completely the reverse:
he considered them as a race of subordinate beings, and that if, like
horses, they were well lodged, fed, and kept clean, they had no right to
complain.
Constantly therefore did he besiege Mrs. Mowbray with his conversation,
and Adeline with his eyes; and the very libertine gaze with which he
often beheld her, gave a pang to Glenmurray which was but too soon
painfully increased.
Sir Patrick was the only man of fashion who did not object to visit at
Mrs. Mowbray's on account of her intimacy with Glenmurray; but he had
his own private reasons for going thither, and continued to visit at Mrs
Mowbray's though Glenmurray was generally there, and sometimes he and
the latter gentleman were the whole of their company.
One evening they and two ladies were drinking tea at Mrs Mowbray's
lodgings, when Mrs Mowbray was unusually silent and Adeline unusually
talkative. Adeline scarcely ever spoke in her mother's presence, from
deference to her abilities; and whatever might be Mrs Mowbray's defects
in other respects, her conversational talents and her uncommon command
of words were indisputable. But this evening, as I before observed,
Adeline, owing to her mother's tender abstractions, was obliged to exert
herself for the entertainment of the guests.
It so happened, also, that something was said by one of the party which
led to the subject of marriage, and Adeline was resolved not to let so
good an opportunity pass of proving to Glenmurray how sincerely she
approved his doctrine on that subject. Immediately, with an unreserve
which nothing but her ignorance of the world, and the strange education
which she had received, could at all excuse, she began to declaim
against marriage, as an institution at once absurd, unjust, and immoral,
and to declare that she would never submit to so contemptible a form, or
profane the sacred ties of love by so odious and unnecessary a ceremony.
This extraordinary speech, though worded elegantly and delivered
gracefully, was not received by any of her hearers, except Sir Patrick,
with any thing like admiration. The baronet, indeed, clapped his hands,
and cried 'Bravo! a fine spirited girl, upon my word!' in a manner so
loud, and so offensive to the feelings of Adeline, that, like the orator
of old, she was tempted to exclaim, 'What foolish thing can I have said,
that has drawn forth this applause?'
But Mrs Mowbray, though she could not help admiring the eloquence which
she attributed to her example,--was shocked at hearing Adeline declare
that her practice should be consonant to her theory; while Glenmurray,
though Adeline had only expressed his sentiments, and his reason
approved what she had uttered, felt his delicacy and his feelings
wounded by so open and decided an avowal of her opinions, and intended
conduct in consequence of them; and he was still more hurt, when he
saw how much it delighted Sir Patrick, and offended the rest of the
company; who, after a silence, the result of surprise and disgust,
suddenly arose, and, coldly wishing Mrs Mowbray good night, left the
house.
By Mrs Mowbray the cause of this abrupt departure was unsuspected: but
Adeline, who had more observation, was convinced that she was the cause
of it; and sighing deeply at the prejudices of the world, she sought to
console herself by looking at Glenmurray, expecting to find in his eyes
an expression of delight and approbation. To her great disappointment,
however, his countenance was sad; while Sir Patrick, on the contrary,
had an expression of impudent triumph in his look, which made her turn
blushing from his ardent gaze, and indignantly follow her mother, who
was then leaving the room.
As she passed him, Sir Patrick caught her hand rapturously to his lips
(an action which made Glenmurray start from his chair), and exclaimed,
'Really you are the only honest little woman I ever knew! I always was
sure that what you just now said was the opinion of all your sex, though
they were so confounded coy they would not own it.'
'Own what Sir?' asked the astonished Adeline.
'That they thought marriage a cursed bore, and preferred leading the
life of honour, to be sure.'
'The life of honour! What is that?' demanded Adeline, while Glenmurray
paced the room in agitation.
'That life, my dear girl, which you mean to lead;--love and liberty with
the man of your heart.'
'Sir Patrick,' cried Glenmurray impatiently, 'this conversation is--'
'Prodigiously amusing to me,' returned the baronet, 'especially as I
never could hold it to a modest woman before.'
'Nor shall you now, Sir,' fiercely interrupted Glenmurray.
'Shall not, Sir?' vociferated Sir Patrick.
'Pray, gentlemen, be less violent,' exclaimed the terrified and
astonished Adeline. 'I can't think what could offend you, Mr Glenmurray,
in Sir Patrick's original observation: the life of honour appears to me
a very excellent name for the pure and honourable union which it is my
wish to form; and--'
'There; I told you so;' triumphantly interrupted Sir Patrick: 'and I
never was better pleased in life:--sweet creature! at once so lovely, so
wise, and so liberal!'
'Sir,' cried Glenmurray, 'this is a mistake: your life of honour and
Miss Mowbray's are as different as possible; you are talking of what
you are grossly ignorant of.'
'Ignorant! I ignorant! Look you, Mr Glenmurray, do you pretend to tell
me I know not what the life of honour is, when I have led it so many
times with so many different women?'
'How, Sir!' replied Adeline: 'many times? and with many different women?
My life of honour can be led with one only.'
'Well, my dear soul, I only led it with one at a time.'
'O Sir! you are indeed ignorant of my meaning,' she rejoined: 'It is the
individuality of an attachment that constitutes its purity; and--'
'Ba-ba-bu, my lovely girl! which has purity to do in the business?'
'Indeed, Sir Patrick,' meekly returned Adeline, 'I--'
'Miss Mowbray,' angrily interrupted Glenmurray, 'I beg, I conjure you to
drop this conversation: your innocence is no match for--'
'For what, Sir?' furiously demanded Sir Patrick.
'Your licentiousness,' replied Glenmurray.
'Sir, I wear a sword,' cried the baronet.--'And I a cane,' said
Glenmurray calmly, 'either to defend myself or chastise insolence.'
'Mr Glenmurray! Sir Patrick!' exclaimed the agitated Adeline: 'for my
sake, for pity's sake desist!'
'For the present I will, madam,' faltered out Sir Patrick;--'but I know
Mr Glenmurray's address, and he shall hear from me.'
'Hear from you! Why, you do not mean to challenge him? you can't suppose
Mr Glenmurray would do so absurd a thing as fight a duel? Sir, he has
written a volume to prove the absurdity of the custom.--No, no! you
threaten his life in vain,' she added, giving her hand to Glenmurray;
who, in the tenderness of the action and the tone of her voice, forgot
the displeasure which her inadvertency had caused, and pressing her hand
to his lips, secretly renewed his vows of unalterable attachment.
'Very well, madam,' exclaimed Sir Patrick in a tone of pique: 'then, so
as Mr Glenmurray's life is safe, you care not what becomes of mine!'
'Sir,' replied Adeline, 'the safety of a fellow-creature is always of
importance in my eyes.'
'Then you care for me as a fellow-creature only,' retorted Sir
Patrick, 'not as Sir Patrick O'Carrol?--Mighty fine, truly, you dear
ungrateful--' seizing her hand; which he relinquished, as well as the
rest of his speech, on the entrance of Mrs Mowbray.
Soon after Adeline left the room, and Glenmurray bowed and retired;
while Sir Patrick, having first repeated his vows of admiration to the
mother, returned home to muse on the charms of the daughter, and the
necessity of challenging the moral Glenmurray.
Sir Patrick was a man of courage, and had fought several duels: but as
life at this time had a great many charms for him, he resolved to defer
at least putting himself in the way of getting rid of it; and after
having slept late in the morning, to make up for the loss of sleep in
the night, occasioned by his various cogitations, he rose, resolved to
go to Mrs Mowbray's, and if he had an opportunity, indulge himself in
some practical comments on the singular declaration made the evening
before by her lovely daughter.
Glenmurray meanwhile had passed the night in equal watchfulness and
greater agitation. To fight a duel would be, as Adeline observed,
contrary to his principles; and to decline one, irritated as he was
against Sir Patrick, was repugnant to his feelings.
To no purpose did he peruse and re-peruse nearly the whole of his
own book against duelling; he had few religious restraints to make
him resolve on declining a challenge, and he felt moral ones of little
avail: but in vain did he sit at home till the morning was far advanced,
expecting a messenger from Sir Patrick;--no messenger came:--he
therefore left word with his servant, that, if wanted, he might be found
at Mrs Mowbray's, and went thither, in hopes of enjoying an hour's
conversation with Adeline; resolving to hint to her, as delicately as he
could, that the opinions which she had expressed were better confined,
in the present dark state of the public mind, to a select and
discriminating circle.