When Mordaunt was gone, Joanna and Ellen returned to their usual manner
of living: at first Ellen found a great insipidity in her ordinary
occupations. The day seemed unusually tedious, but this by degrees wore
off; and had she never seen Mordaunt again, she would certainly have
always remembered him with peculiar interest; but the peace of her mind
was undisturbed: yet Mordaunt's conversation had been of the most
dangerous tendency. What girl of seventeen, tinctured with the natural
romance which a life in a country of such sublimity as Wales almost
necessarily produces in an ardent mind and feeling heart, but might be
led by the voice of flattery to believe herself superior to the mere
common employments of domestic life; yet if the flatterer mean to
substitute no higher line of occupation in their stead, is it not
probable that unhappiness, if not a dereliction from virtue, may be the
consequence? Mordaunt's suggestions therefore to a mind more practised
in worldly guile would have rendered his intentions extremely equivocal;
and the very little Mr. Ross had seen of him made him not only very glad
that he was gone, but led him to wish earnestly he might not return; and
when a fortnight had elapsed, and no books or packages arrived at the
cottage of the Widow Grey, Ross, and, to say the truth, Joanna also,
began to hope he would not return. Joanna liked Mordaunt as a companion,
and had none of those fears which had crept into the mind of Ross: but
her love for her brother, and the certainty that Mordaunt was preferred
to him by Ellen, gave her a sort of prejudice against him, and she could
not help shewing a sort of triumph at his not returning. Ellen, whose
temper was as sweet as her understanding was excellent, bore the little
taunts Joanna now and then threw out on her supposed disappointment with
great mildness; but when Joanna accused Mordaunt of caprice and
insincerity, she sometimes defended him, with candour indeed, but with a
little warmth, which excited fresh displeasure in Joanna: and these
little disputes insensibly abated the pleasure they used to feel in the
society of each other. Nothing could be more ill-judged than Joanna's
conduct on this occasion: had she remained silent, Ellen would never
have spoken and seldom thought of Mordaunt; but by being forced
continually to defend either herself or him, he became more interesting
to her; her generous heart not bearing to hear him accused probably
without a cause: thus, Joanna, like all people who suffer themselves to
be misled by prejudice and ill-humour, increased the evil she wished to
obviate, and by rendering her own society less desirable to Ellen, left
her more at liberty to receive Mordaunt's visits, if he really should
return; and to return it seemed probable at length he intended: for,
about three weeks after his departure, several large packages were
brought in a light cart to the Widow Grey's, and the driver said he had
been hired at Carnarvon, by a strange gentleman who arrived in the mail
the night before, and would be with her the next morning. The news of
this important event spread quickly through the village, and numerous
were the conjectures which followed. Dame Grey had several visitors in
the course of the evening to look at these wonderful packages, to
conjecture what each might contain, and to endeavour to learn from her
what could make a gentleman, so grand as Mr. Mordaunt must be, to come
and live in her cottage: to all which the good woman could only reply,
that Mr. Ross had told her that the gentleman was coming for his health,
and she dared say Mr. Ross knew: at all events, it was nothing to her:
the gentleman had agreed to give her twelve shillings a week for her two
rooms, which was four shillings more than she expected; but then, to be
sure, she was to cook for him, and they all knew she was as pretty a
cook as Madam Ross herself; for that, when she lived with 'Squire
Davies--The mention of 'Squire Davies was enough for the whole audience;
they walked off one by one, and left her to admire and wonder at her
lodger's grand packages by herself, dreading nothing more than the
tedious tales they knew they must encounter if they staid, now Dame Grey
had begun to talk of the days when she lived with 'Squire Davies.
Dame Grey not knowing very well what to do respecting her lodger's
rooms, which wanted linen, and many other articles she supposed the
packages might contain, thought it would be but right, and the proper
compliment, if she was to step up and ask Madam Ross and Miss Joanna,
and Miss Ellen, if she were there, what she had better do. Mrs. Ross
advised her on no account to open any of the parcels, and said, if Mr.
Mordaunt did not arrive in time the next day, she would furnish her with
linen proper for his bed and table, till his own could be opened: at the
same time declaring her readiness to go with Dame Grey, and see that
things were put a little out of a litter; to which obliging act she was
certainly prompted by the same sort of curiosity as had influenced her
poorer neighbours, to see the packages, and judge by their weight and
size what they might contain. No one who has ever lived in a small
village will wonder at this: such a one will know that no one creature
ever appears in a gown of a different colour, or a hat of a different
size from what has been seen before, without exciting the utmost
curiosity and animadversion; that a wedding, a burial, or a christening,
will afford conversation to the whole neighbourhood for many hours; and
that if one should be convicted of living, in the most simple concerns,
at all different from the generality, oddity, absurdity, stinginess,
and, finally, madness, will probably be imputed to him: think then what
a feast for the gossips Mr. Mordaunt's parcels must have presented; for
by the time Dame Grey and Mrs. Ross arrived, two or three more were in
waiting to take a peep at them. Now, amongst these parcels, &c. was one
which certainly bore the appearance of being a lady's bonnet-box:
"Well," Mrs. Ross said, "this is an odd thing; what can it contain? Sure
Mr. Mordaunt is not going to bring a lady with him! He did not say any
thing to you, Dame Grey, did he, as if he was married?" "Lord bless me,
no, Madam; but, to be sure, Mr. Ross knows, or Farmer Powis." "Poh! they
know nothing at all about it: well, we shall see. For my part I should
not wonder: he is not a very young man, and most likely is or has been
married." Away went two or three of the assembly, eager to spread the
report that Mr. Mordaunt and his lady were coming next day to Dame
Grey's; that it must be true, for Madam Ross had said so, and moreover,
they had seen with their own eyes _Madam Merdan's_ fine bonnet-box,
which no doubt contained a power of good things. Some went so far as to
settle the probable colour of the lady's bonnet and best gown; and one
notable dame, the wife of a farmer, who rented lands adjoining Powis's,
thought she would "just step in and tell Miss Ellen and Miss Joanna,
that they might smarten themselves a bit, before _Madam Mording_
arrived." To paint the surprize of Ellen and Joanna, who were sitting
together when neighbour Price related all these strange circumstances,
embellished by her own conjectures and comments, would be impossible.
Joanna believed, and was not sorry: Ellen doubted, and said she should
be glad if it proved so, as Mrs. Mordaunt would be an agreeable addition
to their society. Joanna looked at her with arch and half triumphant
eyes; and Ellen, teazed, vexed, and disconcerted, could scarcely refrain
from tears. At last the chattering gossip departed, and Joanna's
conversation with Ellen ran in the usual strain; but Ellen was unusually
unable to endure it. Amongst other things, Joanna told Ellen, if Mrs.
Mordaunt came, she supposed her whole time would be engaged with her;
and if she did not, perhaps she would think Mordaunt's company quite
enough without the addition of hers, and that her mother was convinced
she would no longer be as willing to be ruled by her as formerly. Ellen
now burst into tears, and told Joanna she knew not what she had done to
occasion such very unkind remarks; that she had never given her reason
to suppose she did not prefer her company to that of any other person,
nor ever, for a moment, hesitated to obey Mrs. Ross in all things: but
if it was required of her to give up all acquaintance with a man who had
never done any thing to offend her, she must say she could not, nay,
would not do it. Joanna, startled by a warmth she had not expected from
the generally mild and yielding Ellen, now begged her pardon; and
embracing her tenderly, said, she knew she had been wrong in teazing her
so much, and would in future drop the subject. Ellen's warm forgiving
heart immediately prompted her to say she had perhaps herself been
captious; and after an appointment to meet again to-morrow, they parted
better friends than they had been for a long time.
On Joanna's arrival at home, she inquired of her mother the foundation
of the strange story she had heard from Mrs. Price; and could hardly
help laughing when she learnt on what slight grounds the report had been
raised. Mrs. Ross, however, still defended the probability of her own
conjectures, and added, that she was, however, quite sure there were a
great many books among the parcels, and she supposed she should now have
less work done than ever, for that both Joanna and Ellen would never be
easy, unless they were walking with Mordaunt, or reading some of the new
trumpery he had sent down. "Dear mother," said Joanna, "why should you
think so? You know I am not so very fond of reading, though I like it
very well in turn, and should still more, if I had not so many other
things to do: and as to Ellen, though I believe she has more pleasure in
reading than any thing else in the world; yet you know she is so good
and gentle, she never refuses to do any thing you wish her to do." "Aye!
that has been; but mark my words, Joanna, you will see alterations you
do not expect." This was one of those equivocal prophecies by which Mrs.
Ross, like the Vicar of Wakefield, endeavoured to impress her family
with an opinion of her penetration: she did not succeed so well as Dr.
Primrose, for Mr. Ross never paid the smallest attention to them: and
Joanna had so rarely seen one of them fulfilled, that she generally
thought nothing about them. In the present instance, however, she
certainly felt a little uneasy, and began to fear that poor Charles must
forego all hopes of Ellen Powis: for Joanna was in her own mind
convinced that Mordaunt greatly admired Ellen, and she was sure Ellen
thought him a being of a superior order: and Joanna was too innocent and
too unsuspicious to imagine, for a moment, that if Mordaunt liked Ellen,
he could have any view but marriage. Ellen, on her side, felt more
vexation this night than she could well account for: she could hardly
doubt the truth of what Mrs. Price asserted to have heard from Mrs.
Ross, namely, that Mordaunt was married, and his lady coming to
Llanwyllan with him, this she fancied she should be very glad of: but
then she was hurt that Mordaunt should have kept this circumstance a
profound secret, and never once adverted to it when he talked, as he had
done repeatedly during the two last days of his stay at Llanwyllan, of
the pleasure he proposed to himself in the society of Mr. Ross, Ellen,
and Joanna.