_Knowle_
The last words of Camilla to Mandlebert, in quitting Cleves, and the
tears with which he saw her eyes overflowing, had annihilated all his
resentment, and left him no wish but to serve her. Her distinction
between what was wisest and what was kindest, had penetrated him to the
quick. To be thought capable of severity towards so sweet a young
creature, the daughter of his guardian, his juvenile companion, and
earliest favourite, made him detestable in his own eyes. He languished
to follow her, to apologise for what had hurt her, and to vow to her a
fair and disinterested friendship for the rest of his life: and he only
forced himself, from decency, to stay out his promised week with the
baronet, before he set out for Tunbridge.
Upon his arrival, which was late, he went immediately to the Rooms; but
he only saw her name in the books, and learnt, upon inquiring for Mrs.
Arlbery, that she and her party were already retired.
Glad to find her so sober in hours, he went to the hotel, meaning
quietly to read till bed-time, and to call upon her the next morning.
In a few moments, a voice struck his ear that effectually interrupted
his studies. It was the voice of Camilla. Camilla at an hotel at past
eleven o'clock! He knew she did not lodge there; he had seen, in the
books, the direction of Mrs. Arlbery at Mount Pleasant. Mrs. Arlbery's
voice he also distinguished, Sir Sedley Clarendel's, General Kinsale's,
and, least of all welcome, ... the Major's.
Perhaps, however, some lady, some intimate friend of Mrs. Arlbery, was
just arrived, and had made them spend the evening there. He rang for his
man, and bid him inquire who had taken the next room, ... and learnt it
was Sir Sedley Clarendel.
To visit a young man at an hotel; rich, handsome, and splendid; and with
a _chaperon_ so far from past her prime, so elegant, so coquetish, so
alluring, and still so pretty; and to meet there a flashy Officer, her
open pursuer and avowed admirer--'Tis true, he had concluded, Tunbridge
and the Major were one; but not thus, not with such glaring impropriety;
his love, he told himself, was past; but his esteem was still
susceptible, and now grievously wounded.
To read was impossible. To hold his watch in his hand, and count the
minutes she still stayed, was all to which his faculties were equal. No
words distinctly reached him; that the conversation was lively, the tone
of every voice announced, but when that of Camilla struck him by its
laughter, the depth of his concern drew from him a sigh that was heard
into the next apartment.
Of this, with infinite vexation, he was himself aware, from the sudden
silence and pause of all discourse which ensued. Ashamed both of what he
felt and what he betrayed, he grew more upon his guard, and hoped it
might never be known to whom the room belonged.
When, however, as they were retiring, a scream reached his ear, though
he knew it was not the voice of Camilla, he could not command himself,
and rushed forth with a light; but the lady who screamed was as little
noticed as thought of: the Major was holding the hand of Camilla, and
his eye could take in no more: he saw not even that Mrs. Arlbery was
there; and when roused by her question, all voice was denied him for
answer; he stood motionless even after they had descended the stairs,
till the steps of the General and the Major, retiring to their chambers,
brought to him some recollection, and enabled him to retreat.
Fully now, as well as cruelly convinced, of the unabated force of his
unhappy passion, he spent the night in extreme wretchedness; and all
that was not swallowed up in repining and regret, was devoted to
ruminate upon what possible means he could suggest, to restore to
himself the tranquillity of indifference.
The confusion of Camilla persuaded him she thought she was acting wrong;
but whether from disapprobation of the character of the Major, or from
any pecuniary obstacles to their union, he could not devise. To assist
the marriage according to his former plan, would best, he still
believed, sooth his internal sufferings, if once he could fancy the
Major at all worthy of such a wife. But Camilla, with all her
inconsistencies, he thought a treasure unequalled: and to contribute to
bestow her on a man who, probably, only prized her for her beauty, he
now persuaded himself would rather be culpable than generous.
Upon the whole, therefore, he could resolve only upon a complete change
of his last system; to seek, instead of avoiding her; to familiarise
himself with her faults, till he ceased to doat upon her virtues; to
discover if her difficulties were mental or worldly; to enforce them if
the first, and ... whatever it might cost him--to invalidate them if the
last.
This plan, the only one he could form, abated his misery. It reconciled
him to residing where Camilla resided, it was easy to him, therefore, to
conclude it the least objectionable.
* * * * *
Camilla, meanwhile, in her way to Mount Pleasant, spoke not a syllable.
Dismay that Edgar should have seen her so situated, while in ignorance
how it had happened, made an uneasiness the most terrible combat the
perplexed pleasure, that lightened, yet palpitated in her bosom, from
the view of Edgar at Tunbridge, and from the sigh which had reached her
ears. Yet, was it for her he sighed? was it not, rather, from some
secret inquietude, in which she was wholly uninterested, and might never
know? Still, however, he was at Tunbridge; still, therefore, she might
hope something relative to herself induced his coming; and she
determined, with respect to her own behaviour, to observe the
injunctions of her father, whose letter she would regularly read every
morning.
Mrs. Arlbery, also, spoke not; the unexpected sight of Mandlebert
occupied all her thoughts; yet, though his confusion was suspicious, she
could not, ultimately, believe he loved Camilla, as she could suggest no
possible impediment to his proclaiming any regard he entertained. His
sigh she imagined as likely to be mere lassitude as love; and supposed,
that having long discovered the partiality of Camilla, his vanity had
been confounded by the devoirs of the Major.
Miss Dennel, therefore, was the only one whose voice was heard during
the ride; for now completely awaked, she talked without cessation of the
fright she had endured. 'La, I thought,' cried she, 'when I tumbled
down, somebody threw me down on purpose, and was going to kill me! dear
me! I thought I should have died! And then I thought it was a robber;
and then I thought that candle that come was a ghost! O la! I never was
so frightened in my life!'
* * * * *
The next morning they went, as usual, to the Pantiles, and Mrs. Arlbery
took her seat in the bookseller's shop, where the usual beaux were
encountered; and where, presently, Edgar entering, addressed to her some
discourse, and made some general inquiries after the health of Camilla.
It was a cruel drawback to her hopes to see him first thus in public:
but the manner of Mrs. Arlbery at the hotel, he had thought repulsive;
he had observed that she seemed offended with him since the rencounter
at the breakfast given for Miss Dennel; and he now wished for some
encouragement for renewing his rights to the acquaintance.
Sir Sedley, though with the assistance of a stick he had reached the
library, was not sufficiently at his ease to again mount his horse; a
carriage expedition was therefore agitating for the morning, and to see
Knowle being fixed upon, equipages and horses were ordered.
While they waited their arrival. Lady Alithea Selmore, and a very shewy
train of ladies and gentlemen, came into the library. Sir Sedley, losing
the easy, natural manner which had just so much pleased Camilla, resumed
his affectation, indolence, and inattention, and flung himself back in
his chair, without finishing a speech he had begun, or listening to an
inquiry why he stopt short. His friends, Lord Newford and Sir Theophilus
Jarard, shuffled up to her ladyship; and Sir Sedley, muttering to
himself life would not be life without being introduced to her, got up,
and seizing Lord Newford by the shoulder, whispered what he called the
height of his ambition, and was presented without delay.
He then entered into a little abrupt, half articulated conversation with
Lady Alithea, who, by a certain toss of the chin, a short and half
scornful laugh, and a supercilious dropping of the eye, gave to every
sentence she uttered the air of a _bon mot_; and after each, as
regularly stopt for some testimony of admiration, as a favourite actress
in some scene in which every speech is applauded. What she said, indeed,
had no other mark than what this manner gave to it; for it was neither
good nor bad, wise nor foolish, sprightly nor dull. It was what, if
naturally spoken, would have passed, as it deserved, without censure or
praise. This manner, however, prevailed not only upon her auditors, but
herself, to believe that something of wit, of _finesse_, of peculiarity,
accompanied her every phrase. Thought, properly speaking, there was none
in any thing she pronounced: her speeches were all replies, which her
admirers dignified by the name of repartees, and which mechanically and
regularly flowed from some word, not idea, that preceded.
Mrs. Arlbery, having listened some time, turned entirely away, though
with less contempt of her ladyship than of her hearers. Her own
auditors, however, except the faithful General, had all deserted her.
Even the Major, curious to attend to a lady of some celebrity, had
quitted the chair of Camilla; and Edgar himself, imagining, from this
universal devotion, there was something well worth an audience, had
joined the group.
'We are terribly in the back ground, General!' cried Mrs. Arlbery, in a
low voice. 'What must be done to save our reputations?'
The General, laughing, said, he feared they were lost irretrievably; but
added that he preferred defeat with her, to victory without her.
'Your gallantry, my dear General,' cried she, with a sudden air of glee,
'shall be rewarded! Follow me close, and you shall see the fortune of
the day reversed.'
Rising then, she advanced softly, and with an air of respect, towards
the party, and fixing herself just opposite to Lady Alithea, with looks
of the most profound attention, stood still, as if in admiring
expectation.
Lady Alithea, who had regarded this approach as an intrusion that
strongly manifested ignorance of high life, thought much better of it
when she remarked the almost veneration of her air. She deemed it,
however, wholly beneath her to speak when thus attended to; till,
observing the patient admiration with which even a single word seemed to
be hoped for, she began to pardon what appeared to be a mere tribute to
her fame; and upon Sir Theophilus Jarard's saying, 'I don't think we
have had such a bore of a season as this, these five years;' could not
refuse herself the pleasure of replying: 'I did not imagine, Sir
Theophilus, you were already able to count by lustres.'
Her own air of complacency announced the happiness of this answer. The
company, as usual, took the hint, and approbation was buzzed around her.
Lord Newford gave a loud laugh, without the least conception why; and
Sir Theophilus, after paying the same compliment, wished, as it
concerned himself, to know what had been said; and glided to the other
end of the shop, to look for the word lustre in Entick's dictionary.
But this triumph was even less than momentary; Mrs. Arlbery, gently
raising her shoulders with her head, indulged herself in a smile that
favoured yet more of pity than derision; and, with a hasty glance at the
General, that spoke an eagerness to compare notes with him, hurried out
of the shop; her eyes dropt, as if fearful to trust her countenance to
an instant's investigation.
Lady Alithea felt herself blush. The confusion was painful and unusual
to her. She drew her glove off and on; she dabbed a highly scented
pocket handkerchief repeatedly to her nose; she wondered what it was
o'clock; took her watch in her hand, without recollecting to examine it;
and then wondered if it would rain, though not a cloud was to be
discerned in the sky.
To see her thus completely disconcerted, gave a weight to the
mischievous malice of Mrs. Arlbery, of which the smallest presence of
mind would have robbed it. Her admirers, one by one, dwindled away, with
lessened esteem for her talents; and, finding herself presently alone in
the shop with Sir Theophilus Jarard, she said, 'Pray, Sir Theophilus, do
you know anything of that queer woman?'
The words _queer woman_ were guides sufficient to Sir Theophilus, who
answered, 'No! I have seen her, somewhere, by accident, but--she is
quite out of our line.'
This reply was a sensible gratification to Lady Alithea, who, having
heard her warmly admired by Lord O'Lerney, had been the more susceptible
to her ridicule. Rudeness she could have despised without emotion; but
contempt had something in it of insolence; a commodity she held herself
born to dispense, not receive.
* * * * *
When Mrs. Arlbery arrived, laughing, at the bottom of the Pantiles, she
found Edgar making inquiries of the time and manner of drinking the
mineral water.
Camilla heard him, also, and with deep apprehensions for his health. He
did not however look ill; and a second sadness, not less deep, ensued,
that she could now retain no hope of being herself his inducement to
this journey.
But egotism was no part of her composition; when she saw, therefore, the
next minute, Sir Sedley Clarendel advance limping, and heard him ask if
his phaeton were ready, she approached him, saying, 'Will you venture,
Sir Sedley, in your phaeton?'
'There's no sort of reason why not,' answered he, sensibly flattered;
'yet I had certainly rather go as you go!'
'Then that,' said Mrs. Arlbery, 'must be in Dennel's coach, with him and
my little niece here: and then I'll drive the General in your phaeton.'
'Agreed!' cried Sir Sedley, seating himself on one of the forms; and
then, taking from a paper some tickets, added; 'I want a few guineas.'
'So do I!' exclaimed Mrs. Arlbery; 'do you know where such sort of
things are to be met with?'
'Lady Alithea Selmore has promised to disperse some twenty tickets for
the master of the ceremonies' ball, and she commands me to help. How
many shall I give you?'
'Ask Mr. Dennel,' answered she negligently; 'he's the only paymaster
just now.'
Mr. Dennel turned round, and was going to walk away; but Mrs. Arlbery,
taking him by the arm, said: 'My good friend, how many tickets shall Sir
Sedley give you?'
'Me!--none at all.'
'O fie! every body goes to the master of the ceremonies' ball. Come, you
shall have six. You can't possibly take less.'
'Six! What should I do with them?'
'Why, you and your daughter will use two, and four you must give away.'
'What for?'
'Was ever such a question? To do what's proper and right, and handsome
and gallant.'
'O, as to all that, it's what I don't understand. It's out of my way.'
He would then have made off; but Mrs. Arlbery, piqued to succeed, held
him fast, and said: 'Come, if you'll be good, I'll be good too, and you
shall have a plain joint of meat at the bottom of the table every day
for a fortnight.'
Mr. Dennel softened a little here into something like a smile; and drew
two guineas from his purse; but more there was no obtaining.
'Come,' cried Sir Sedley, 'you have canvassed well so far. Now for your
fair self.'
'You are a shocking creature!' cried she; 'don't you know I am turned
miser?'
Yet she gave her guinea.
'But the fair Tyrold does not also, I trust, assume that character?'
Camilla had felt very uneasy during this contest; and now, colouring,
said she did not mean to go to the ball.
'Can you ever expect, then,' said Mrs. Arlbery, 'to have a partner at
any other? You don't know the rules of these places. The master of the
ceremonies is always a gentleman, and every body is eager to shew him
every possible respect.'
Camilla was now still more distressed; and stammered out, that she
believed the fewer balls she went to, the better her father would be
pleased.
'Your father, my dear, is a very wise man, and a very good man, and a
very excellent preacher: but what does he know of Tunbridge Wells?
Certainly not so much as my dairy maid, for she has heard John talk of
them; but as to your father, depend upon it, the sole knowledge he has
ever obtained, is from some treatise upon its mineral waters; which,
very possibly, he can analyse as well as a physician: but for the
regulation of a country dance, be assured he will do much better to make
you over to Sir Sedley, or to me.'
Camilla laughed faintly, and feeling in her pocket to take out her
pocket handkerchief, by way of something to do, Mrs. Arlbery concluded
she was seeking her purse, and suddenly putting her hand upon her arm to
prevent her, said, 'No, no! if you don't wish to go, or choose to go, or
approve of going, I cannot, in sober earnestness, see you compelled.
Nothing is so detestable as forcing people to be amused. Come, now for
Knowle.'
Sir Sedley was then putting up his tickets; but the Major, taking one of
them out of his hand, presented it to Camilla, saying: 'Let the ladies
take their tickets now, and settle with us afterwards.'
Camilla felt extremely provoked, yet not knowing how to resist, took the
ticket; but, turning pointedly from the Major to Sir Sedley, said: 'I am
your debtor, then, sir, a guinea--the smallest part, indeed, of what I
owe you, though all I can pay!' And she then resolved to borrow that sum
immediately of Mrs. Arlbery.
Sir Sedley began to think she grew handsomer every moment: and,
contrary to his established and systematic inattention, upon hearing the
sound of the carriages, conducted her himself to Mr. Dennel's coach,
which he ascended after her.
Edgar, unable to withstand joining the party, had ordered his horse
during the debate about the tickets.
Lords O'Lerney and Newford, and Sir Theophilus Jarard, and Major
Cerwood, went also on horseback.
Sir Sedley made it his study to procure amusement for Camilla during the
ride; and while he humoured alternately the loquacious folly of Miss
Dennel, and the under-bred positiveness of her father, intermingled with
both comic sarcasms against himself, and pointed annotations upon the
times, that somewhat diverted her solicitude and perplexity.
She forgot them however, more naturally, in examining the noble antique
mansion, pictures, and curiosities of Knowle; and in paying the tribute
that taste must ever pay to the works exhibited there of Sir Joshua
Reynolds.
The house viewed, they all proceeded to the park, where, enchanted with
the noble old trees which venerably adorn it, they strolled delightedly,
till they came within sight of an elegant white form, as far distant as
their eyes could reach, reading under an oak.
Camilla instantly thought of her moonlight friend; but Sir Theophilus
called out, 'Faith, there's the divine Berlinton!'
'Is there, faith?' exclaimed Lord Newford, suddenly rushing forward to
satisfy himself if it were true.
Deeming this an ill-bred and unauthorised intrusion, they all stopt. The
studious fair, profoundly absorbed by her book, did not hear his
lordship's footsteps, till his coat rustled in her ears. Raising then
her eyes, she screamed, dropt her book, and darting up, flew towards the
wood, with a velocity far exceeding his own, though without seeming to
know, or consider, whither her flight might lead her.
Camilla, certain now this was her new friend, felt an indignation the
most lively against Lord Newford, and involuntarily sprung forward. It
was evident the fair fugitive had perceived none of the party but him
she sought to avoid; notwithstanding Lord Newford himself, when
convinced who it was, ceased his pursuit, and seemed almost to find out
there was such a sensation as shame; though by various antics, of
swinging his cane, looking up in the air, shaking his pocket
handkerchief, and sticking his arms a-kimbo, he thought it essential to
his credit to disguise it.
Camilla had no chance to reach the flying beauty, but by calling to her
to stop; which she did instantly at the sound of her voice, and, turning
round with a look of rapture, ran into her arms.
The Major, whose devoirs to Camilla always sought, not avoided the
public eye, eagerly pursued her. Edgar, cruelly envying a licence he
concluded to result from his happy situation, looked on in silent amaze;
but listened with no small attention to the remarks that now fell from
Mrs. Arlbery, who said she was sure this must be the fair Incognita that
Miss Tyrold had met with upon the road; and gave a lively relation of
that adventure.
He could not hear without delight the benevolent courage thus manifested
by Camilla, nor without terror the danger to which it might have exposed
her. But Lord O'Lerney, with an air of extreme surprise, exclaimed: 'Is
it possible Lord Newford could give any cause of alarm to Mrs.
Berlinton?'
'Is she then, my lord, a woman of character?' cried Mrs. Arlbery.
'Untainted!' he answered solemnly; 'as spotless, I believe, as her
beauty: and if you have seen her, you will allow that to be no small
praise. She comes from a most respectable family in Wales, and has been
married but a few months.'
'Married, my lord? my fair female Quixote assured me she was single.'
'No, poor thing! she was carried from the nursery to the altar, and, I
fear, not very judiciously nor happily.'
'Dear!' cried Miss Dennel, 'i'n't she happy?'
'I never presume to judge,' answered his lordship, smiling; 'but she has
always something melancholy in her air.'
'Pray how old is she?' said Miss Dennel.
'Eighteen.'
'Dear! and married?--La! I wonder what makes her unhappy!'
'Not a husband, certainly!' said Mrs. Arlbery, laughing, 'that is
against all chance and probability.'
'Well, I'm resolved when I'm married myself, I won't be unhappy.'
'And how will you help it?'
'O, because I'm determined I won't. I think it's very hard if I may'nt
have my own way when I'm married.'
''Twill at least be very singular!' answered Mrs. Arlbery.
Camilla now returned to her party, having first conducted her new friend
towards a door in the park where her carriage was waiting.
'At length, my dear,' said Mrs. Arlbery, 'your fair mysterious has, I
suppose, avowed herself?'
'I made no inquiry,' answered she, painfully looking down.
'I can tell you who she is, then, myself,' said Miss Dennel; 'she is
Mrs. Berlinton, and she's come out of Wales, and she's married, and
she's eighteen.'
'Married!' repeated Camilla, blushing from internal surprise at the
conversations she had held with her.
'Yes; your fair Incognita is neither more nor less,' said Mrs. Arlbery,
'than the honourable Mrs. Berlinton, wife to Lord Berlinton's brother,
and, next only to Lady Alithea Selmore, the first toast, and the
reigning cry of the Wells for this season.'
Camilla, who had seen and considered her in almost every other point of
view, heard this with less of pleasure than astonishment. When a further
investigation brought forth from Lord O'Lerney that her maiden name was
Melmond, Mrs. Arlbery exclaimed: 'O, then, I cease to play the idiot,
and wonder! I know the Melmonds well. They are all half crazy, romantic,
love-lorn, studious, and sentimental. One of them was in Hampshire this
summer, but so immensely "melancholy and gentleman-like[2]," that I
never took him into my society.'
[Footnote 2: Ben Jonson]
''Twas the brother of this young lady, I doubt not,' said Lord O'Lerney;
'he is a young man of very good parts, and of an exemplary character;
but strong in his feelings, and wild in pursuit of whatever excites
them.'
'When will you introduce me to your new friend, Miss Tyrold?' said Mrs.
Arlbery; 'or, rather,' (turning to Lord Newford,) 'I hope your lordship
will do me that honour; I hear you are very kind to her; and take much
care to convince her of the ill effects and danger of the evening air.'
'O hang it! O curse it!' cried his lordship; 'why does a woman walk by
moon-light?'
'Why, rather, should man,' said Lord O'Lerney, 'impede so natural a
recreation?'
The age of Lord O'Lerney, which more than doubled that of Lord Newford,
made this question supported, and even drew forth the condescension of
an attempted exculpation. 'I vow, my lord,' he cried, 'I had no
intention but to look at a letter; and that I thought, she only read in
public to excite curiosity.'
'O but you knelt to her!' cried Miss Dennel, 'you knelt to her! I saw
you! and why did you do that, when you knew she was married, and you
could not be her lover?'
The party being now disposed to return to the Wells, Mrs. Arlbery called
upon the General to attend her to the phaeton. Camilla, impatient to pay
Sir Sedley, followed to speak to her; but, not aware of her wish, Mrs.
Arlbery hurried laughingly on, saying, 'Come, General, let us be gone,
that the coach may be last, and then Dennel must pay the fees! That will
be a good guinea towards my ponies!'