"Oh love, how are thy precious, sweetest minutes
Thus ever crossed, thus vexed with disappointments;
Now pride, now fickleness, fantastic quarrels,
And sullen coldness give us pain by turns."--ROWE.
At the expected time, the marquis and his family arrived with great
splendor at Ulster Lodge, which was immediately crowded with visitors of
the first consequence in the county, among whom were the Kilcorbans,
whose affluent fortune gave them great respectability. Mr. Kilcorban
wished, indeed, to be first in paying his compliments to the marquis,
who had a borough in his disposal he was desirous of being returned for.
Disappointed the last time he set up as one of the candidates for the
county, this was his only chance of entering that house he had long been
ambitious for a seat in. He knew, indeed, his oratorical powers were not
very great--often saying, he had not the gift of the gab like many of
the honorable gentlemen; but then he could stamp and stare, and look up
to the gods and goddesses[B] for their approbation, with the best of
them; and, besides, his being a member of parliament would increase his
consequence, at least in the country.
Footnote B: Ladies were admitted to the gallery of the Irish
House of Commons.
The female part of his family went from Ulster Lodge to Castle Carberry,
which they entered with a more consequential air than ever, as if they
derived new consequence from the visit they had been paying. Instead of
flying up to Amanda, as usual, the young ladies swam into the room, with
what they imagined, a most bewitching elegance, and, making a sliding
curtsey, flung themselves upon a sofa, exactly opposite a glass, and
alternately viewed themselves, and pursued their remarks on Lady
Euphrasia's dress. "Well, certainly, Alicia," said Miss Kilcorban, "I
will have a morning gown made in imitation of her ladyship's: that frill
of fine lace about the neck is the most becoming thing in nature; and
the pale blue lining sweetly adapted for a delicate complexion." "I
think, Charlotte," cried Miss Alicia, "I will have my tambour muslin in
the same style, but lined with pink to set off the work."
"This aunt' of yours, my dear," exclaimed Mrs. Kilcorban, "is really a
personable-looking woman enough, and her daughter a pretty little sort
of body."
"Oh! they are charming creatures," cried both the young ladies; "so
elegant, so irresistibly genteel."
"Your ideas and mine, then," said Lady Greystock, "differ widely about
elegance and irresistibility, if you ascribe either to the ladies in
question. Mr. Kilcorban," continued she, turning to Amanda, "feared, I
believe, my Lord Marquis would fly across the sea in a few hours; and
that he might catch him ere he took wing, never ceased tormenting us,
from the time breakfast was over till we entered the carriage, to make
haste, though he might have known it was quite too early for fine folks
to be visible.
"Well, we posted off to Ulster Lodge, as if life and death depended on
our dispatch. Mr. Kilcorban was ushered into the marquis's study, and we
into an empty room, to amuse ourselves, if we pleased, with portraits of
the marquis's ancestors; whilst bells in all quarters were
tingling--maids and footmen running up and down stairs--and cats, dogs,
monkeys, and parrots, which I found composed part of the travelling
retinue, were scratching, barking, chattering, and screaming, in a room
contiguous to the one we occupied. At length a fine, perfumed jessamy
made his appearance, and saying the ladies were ready to have the honor
of receiving us, skipped up stairs like a harlequin. The marchioness
advanced about two steps from her couch to receive us, and Lady
Euphrasia half rose from her seat, and after contemplating us for a
minute, as if to know whether we were to be considered as human
creatures or not, sunk back into her former attitude of elegant languor,
and continued her conversation with a young nobleman who had accompanied
them from England."
"Well, I hope you will allow he is a divine creature," exclaimed Miss
Kilcorban, in an accent of rapture. "Oh! what eyes he has," cried her
sister; "what an harmonious voice! I really never beheld any one so
exquisitely handsome!"
"Lord Mortimer, indeed," said Lady Greystock--Amanda started, blushed,
turned pale, panted as if for breath, and stared as if in amazement.
"Bless me, Miss Fitzalan," asked her ladyship, "are you ill?" "No,
madam," replied Amanda, in a trembling voice; "'tis only--'tis only a
little palpitation of the heart I am subject to. I have interrupted your
ladyship; pray proceed." "Well," continued Lady Greystock, "I was saying
that Lord Mortimer was one of the most elegant and engaging young men I
had ever beheld. His expressive eyes seemed to reprove the folly of his
fair companion; and her neglect made him doubly assiduous, which to me
was a most convincing proof of a noble mind."
How did the heart of Amanda swell with pleasure at this warm eulogium on
Lord Mortimer! The tear of delight, of refined affection, sprung to her
eye, and could scarcely be prevented falling.
"Lord, madam," cried Miss Kilcorban, whose pride was mortified at
Amanda's hearing of the cool reception they had met with, "I can't
conceive the reason you ascribe such rudeness and conceit to Lady
Euphrasia; 'tis really quite a misconstruction of the etiquette
necessary to be observed by people of rank."
"I am glad, my dear," replied Lady Greystock, "you are now beginning to
profit by the many lessons I have given you on humility."
"I assure you, Miss," said Mrs. Kilcorban, "I did not forget to tell the
marchioness she had a niece in the neighborhood. I thought, indeed, she
seemed a little shy on the subject; so I suppose there has been a
difference in the families, particularly as you don't visit her; but, at
our ball, perhaps, everything may be settled." Amanda made no reply to
this speech, and the ladies departed.
Her bosom, as may well be supposed, was agitated with the most violent
perturbations on hearing of Lord Mortimer's being in the neighborhood.
The pleasure she felt at the first intelligence gradually subsided on
reflecting he was an inmate, probably a friend, of those relations who
had contributed to the destruction of her mother; and who, from the
character she had heard of them, it was not uncharitable to think, would
feel no great regret, if her children experienced a destiny equally
severe. Might they not infuse some prejudices against her into his
bosom; to know she was the child of the unfortunate Malvina, would be
enough to provoke their enmity; or, if they were silent, might not Lady
Euphrasia, adorned with every advantage of rank and fortune, have won,
or at least soon win, his affections?
Yet scarcely did these ideas obtrude, ere she reproached herself for
them as injurious to Lord Mortimer, from whose noble nature she thought
she might believe his constancy never would be shaken, except she
herself gave him reason to relinquish it.
She now cheered her desponding spirits, by recalling the ideas she had
long indulged with delight, as her residence was still a secret to the
Edwins, whose letters to their daughter were, by Fitzalan's orders,
constantly directed to a distant town from whence hers, in return, were
sent. She concluded chance had informed Lord Mortimer of it, and
flattered herself, that to avoid the suspicion which a solitary journey
to Ireland might create in the mind of Lord Cherbury, he had availed
himself of the Marquis's party, and come to try whether she was
unchanged, and her father would sanction their attachment, ere he avowed
it to the earl.
Whilst fluctuating between hope and fear, Ellen, all pale and
breathless, ran into the room, exclaiming, "He is come! he is come! Lord
Mortimer is come!"
"Oh, heavens!" sighed Amanda, sinking back in her chair and dropping her
trembling hands before her. Ellen, alarmed, blamed herself for her
precipitation, and, flying to a cabinet snatched a bottle of lavender
water from it, which she plentifully sprinkled over her, and then
assisted her to a window. "I was so flurried," cried the good-natured
girl, as she saw her mistress recovering, "I did not know what I was
about. Heaven knows, the sight of poor Chip himself could not have given
me more pleasure. I was crossing the hall when I saw his lortship
alighting; and to be sure, if one of the old warriors had stepped out of
his niche--and the tefil take them all, I say, for they grin so horribly
they frighten me out of my wits if I go through the hall of a dark
evening--so if one of them old fellows, as I was saying, had jumped out,
I could not have peen more startled, and pack I ran into the little
parlor, and there I heard his lortship inquiring for my master; and to
be sure the sound of his voice did my heart good, for he is an old
friend, as one may say. So as soon as he went into the study, I stole up
stairs; and one may guess what he and my master are talking about, I
think."
The emotion of Amanda increased. She trembled so she could not stand.
She felt as if her destiny, her future happiness, depended on this
minute. In vain she endeavored to regain composure. Her spirits were
wound up to the highest pitch of expectation, and the agitations
inseparable from such a state were not to be repressed.
She continued near an hour in this situation, when the voice of Mortimer
struck her ear. She started up, and, standing in the centre of the room,
saw him walking down the lawn with her father, who left him when he had
reached the gate, where his servants and horses were. The chill of
disappointment pervaded the heart of Amanda, and a shower of tears fell
from her. Ellen, who had remained in the room, was almost as much
disappointed as her mistress. She muttered something about the
inconstancy of men. They were all, for her part, she believed, alike;
all like Mr. Chip--captious on every occasion. The dinner-bell now
summoned Amanda. She dried her eyes, and tied on a little straw hat to
conceal their redness. With much confusion she appeared before her
father. His penetrating eye was instantly struck with her agitation and
pallid looks, and he conjectured she knew of the visit he had received.
On receiving that visit, he wondered not at the strength of her
attachment. The noble and ingenuous air of Lord Mortimer had immediately
prepossessed Fitzalan in his favor. He saw him adorned with all those
perfections which are calculated to make a strong and permanent
impression on a heart of sensibility, and he gave a sigh to the cruel
necessity which compelled him to separate two beings of such congenial
loveliness; but as that necessity neither was or could be overcome, he
rejoiced that Lord Mortimer, instead of visiting him on account of his
daughter, had merely come on affairs relative to the castle, and had
inquired for her with a coolness which seemed to declare his love
totally subdued. Not the smallest hint relative to the letter in which
he had proposed for her dropped from him, and Fitzalan concluded his
affections were transferred to some object more the favorite of fortune
than his portionless Amanda.
This object, he was inclined to believe, was Lady Euphrasia Sutherland,
from what Lord Cherbury had said concerning the splendid alliance he had
in view for his son, and from Lord Mortimer's accompanying the Roslin
family to Ireland.
He felt he had not fortitude to mention those conjectures to Amanda. He
rather wished she should imbibe them from her own observation; and
pride, he then trusted, would come to her aid, and stimulate her to
overcome her attachment. Dinner passed in silence. When the servant was
withdrawn, he resolved to relieve the anxiety which her looks informed
him pressed upon her heart, by mentioning the visit of Lord Mortimer. He
came, he told her, merely to see the state the castle was in, and thus
proceeded: "Lord Mortimer is, indeed, an elegant and sensible young man,
and will do honor to the house from which he is descended. He had long
wished, he told me, to visit this estate, which was endeared to him by
the remembrance of his juvenile days, but particularly by its being the
place of his mother's nativity, and her favorite residence; and the
opportunity of travelling with an agreeable party, had determined him no
longer to defer gratifying this wish.
"He mentioned his mother in terms of the truest respect and tenderness;
and his softened voice, his tearful eye, proclaimed his heart the
mansion of sensibility. His virtues, like his praises, will do honor to
her memory. He had been told the castle was in a very ruinous state, and
was agreeably surprised to find it in as good order as could be expected
from its ancient date. He desired to see the garden, which had been laid
out under the direction of his mother. He expected not to have found a
vestige of her taste remaining, and was consequently charmed to find
himself mistaken. Every spot appeared to remind him of some happy hour,
especially the gothic temple. 'How many happy minutes have I passed in
this place,' said his lordship, after a silence for some time, 'with the
best of women.'--Upon my word, Amanda," continued Fitzalan, "you have
ornamented it in a very fanciful manner. I really thought his lordship
would have stolen some of your lilies or roses, he examined them so
accurately." Amanda blushed, and her father still perceiving expectation
in her eyes, thus went on: "His lordship looked at some of the adjacent
grounds; and as he has mentioned what improvements he thought necessary
to be made in them, I fancy he will not repeat his visit, or stay much
longer in the kingdom."
In a few minutes after this conversation Fitzalan repaired to his
library, and Amanda to the garden. She hastened to the temple. Never had
she before thought it so picturesque, or such an addition to the
landscape. The silence of Lord Mortimer on entering it, she did not,
like her father, believe proceeded altogether from retracing scenes of
former happiness with his mother. "No," said she, "in this spot he also,
perhaps, thought of Amanda."
True, he had mentioned her with indifference to her father, but that
might (and she would flatter herself it did) proceed from resentment,
excited by her precipitate flight from Wales, at a period when his
received addresses gave him a right to information about all her
actions, and by her total neglect of him since. Their first interview,
she trusted, would effect a reconciliation, by producing an explanation.
Her father then, she flattered herself, tender as he was, depending on
her for happiness, and prepossessed in Lord Mortimer's favor, would no
longer oppose their attachment, but allow Lord Cherbury to be informed
of it, who she doubted not, would, in this as well as every other
instance, prove himself truly feeling and disinterested.
Thus did Amanda, by encouraging ideas agreeable to her wishes, try to
soften the disappointment she had experienced in the morning. Fitzalan,
on meeting his daughter at tea, was not surprised to hear she had been
in the gothic temple, but he was to see her wear so cheerful an
appearance. He was no stranger to the human heart, and he was convinced
some flattering illusion could alone have enabled her to shake off the
sadness with which, but an hour before, she had been oppressed. The
sooner such an illusion was removed, the better; and to allow her to see
Lord Mortimer, he imagined would be the most effectual measure for such
a purpose.
The more he reflected on that young nobleman's manner, and what he
himself had heard from Lord Cherbury, the more he was convinced Lady
Euphrasia Sutherland was not only the object destined for Lord Mortimer,
but the one who now possessed his affections; and believed his visit to
Castle Carberry had been purposely made, to announce the alteration of
his sentiments by the coldness of his conduct, and check any hopes which
his appearance in the neighborhood might have created.
He had hesitated about Amanda's accepting the invitation to the
Kilcorban's ball; but he now determined she should go, impressed with
the idea of her being there convinced of the change in Lord Mortimer's
sentiments--a conviction he deemed necessary to produce one in her own.
Amanda impatiently longed for this night, which she believed would
realize either her hopes or fears.