AN INTRIGUING TEACHER.
MADAME Du Pont was a woman every way calculated to take the care of
young ladies, had that care entirely devolved on herself; but it was
impossible to attend the education of a numerous school without proper
assistants; and those assistants were not always the kind of people
whose conversation and morals were exactly such as parents of delicacy
and refinement would wish a daughter to copy. Among the teachers
at Madame Du Pont's school, was Mademoiselle La Rue, who added to a
pleasing person and insinuating address, a liberal education and the
manners of a gentlewoman. She was recommended to the school by a lady
whose humanity overstepped the bounds of discretion: for though she
knew Miss La Rue had eloped from a convent with a young officer, and, on
coming to England, had lived with several different men in open defiance
of all moral and religious duties; yet, finding her reduced to the
most abject want, and believing the penitence which she professed to be
sincere, she took her into her own family, and from thence recommended
her to Madame Du Pont, as thinking the situation more suitable for
a woman of her abilities. But Mademoiselle possessed too much of the
spirit of intrigue to remain long without adventures. At church, where
she constantly appeared, her person attracted the attention of a young
man who was upon a visit at a gentleman's seat in the neighbourhood: she
had met him several times clandestinely; and being invited to come out
that evening, and eat some fruit and pastry in a summer-house belonging
to the gentleman he was visiting, and requested to bring some of
the ladies with her, Charlotte being her favourite, was fixed on to
accompany her.
The mind of youth eagerly catches at promised pleasure: pure and
innocent by nature, it thinks not of the dangers lurking beneath
those pleasures, till too late to avoid them: when Mademoiselle asked
Charlotte to go with her, she mentioned the gentleman as a relation,
and spoke in such high terms of the elegance of his gardens, the
sprightliness of his conversation, and the liberality with which he ever
entertained his guests, that Charlotte thought only of the pleasure she
should enjoy in the visit,--not on the imprudence of going without her
governess's knowledge, or of the danger to which she exposed herself in
visiting the house of a gay young man of fashion.
Madame Du Pont was gone out for the evening, and the rest of the ladies
retired to rest, when Charlotte and the teacher stole out at the back
gate, and in crossing the field, were accosted by Montraville, as
mentioned in the first CHAPTER.
Charlotte was disappointed in the pleasure she had promised herself
from this visit. The levity of the gentlemen and the freedom of
their conversation disgusted her. She was astonished at the liberties
Mademoiselle permitted them to take; grew thoughtful and uneasy, and
heartily wished herself at home again in her own chamber.
Perhaps one cause of that wish might be, an earnest desire to see the
contents of the letter which had been put into her hand by Montraville.
Any reader who has the least knowledge of the world, will easily
imagine the letter was made up of encomiums on her beauty, and vows of
everlasting love and constancy; nor will he be surprised that a heart
open to every gentle, generous sentiment, should feel itself warmed by
gratitude for a man who professed to feel so much for her; nor is it
improbable but her mind might revert to the agreeable person and martial
appearance of Montraville.
In affairs of love, a young heart is never in more danger than
when attempted by a handsome young soldier. A man of an indifferent
appearance, will, when arrayed in a military habit, shew to advantage;
but when beauty of person, elegance of manner, and an easy method of
paying compliments, are united to the scarlet coat, smart cockade, and
military sash, ah! well-a-day for the poor girl who gazes on him: she
is in imminent danger; but if she listens to him with pleasure, 'tis all
over with her, and from that moment she has neither eyes nor ears for
any other object.
Now, my dear sober matron, (if a sober matron should deign to turn over
these pages, before she trusts them to the eye of a darling daughter,)
let me intreat you not to put on a grave face, and throw down the book
in a passion and declare 'tis enough to turn the heads of half the girls
in England; I do solemnly protest, my dear madam, I mean no more by
what I have here advanced, than to ridicule those romantic girls, who
foolishly imagine a red coat and silver epaulet constitute the fine
gentleman; and should that fine gentleman make half a dozen fine
speeches to them, they will imagine themselves so much in love as
to fancy it a meritorious action to jump out of a two pair of stairs
window, abandon their friends, and trust entirely to the honour of a
man, who perhaps hardly knows the meaning of the word, and if he does,
will be too much the modern man of refinement, to practice it in their
favour.
Gracious heaven! when I think on the miseries that must rend the heart
of a doating parent, when he sees the darling of his age at first
seduced from his protection, and afterwards abandoned, by the very
wretch whose promises of love decoyed her from the paternal roof--when
he sees her poor and wretched, her bosom tom between remorse for her
crime and love for her vile betrayer--when fancy paints to me the good
old man stooping to raise the weeping penitent, while every tear from
her eye is numbered by drops from his bleeding heart, my bosom glows
with honest indignation, and I wish for power to extirpate those
monsters of seduction from the earth.
Oh my dear girls--for to such only am I writing--listen not to the voice
of love, unless sanctioned by paternal approbation: be assured, it is
now past the days of romance: no woman can be run away with contrary
to her own inclination: then kneel down each morning, and request kind
heaven to keep you free from temptation, or, should it please to suffer
you to be tried, pray for fortitude to resist the impulse of inclination
when it runs counter to the precepts of religion and virtue.