mistaken. It was a scheme, a stratagem for purposes I can easily explain
if you will but give me an interview. The Dutchess de N---- is to this
hour my very best friend; it was she who brought me to England. Alas,
what a sad reverse of situation is mine! thus to sue with tears and
intreaty for one short hour's conversation to him who, but a few months
past, languished for the slightest of my favours! Think what a
preference I gave you over the many who followed me with their sighs;
think what I was; what I have endured; and drive not to rage and despair
her who is ever your's and your's alone:
JANETTA LAUNDY
LETTER XIII
FROM THE SAME
TO
THE SAME
Last night I obeyed the impulses of an unfortunate passion, renewed in
its utmost violence and weakness by the unexpected sight of you. I now
obey the dictates of prudence and reflection, and decline the interview
I last night solicited.
Yes, Montgomery! I see evidently that I am sacrificed to some rival. Be
it so. I am content to resign you. Content to endure this penance for my
past mistakes. We will henceforward meet only as strangers. I am
resolved. Never will I again trouble you in any way; nor ever again
yield to that delusion which has brought upon me so much misfortune and
misery.
I have but one request to make; and that, Sir, is a last request.
Remember that I am friendless and dependent. Be generously silent. You
are likely to be on terms of intimacy in this family, and Miss Ashburn
is as severe as penetrating. Guard carefully a secret that would ruin me
in my situation; and every service that gratitude can inspire shall by
your's from
JANETTA LAUNDY
LETTER XIV
FROM CLEMENT MONTGOMERY
TO
ARTHUR MURDEN
Mr. Valmont, dear Arthur, has sent me to London with 500l. in my pocket
to choose a profession. 'Be not rash nor hasty in your determination,
Clement,' said he when we parted. 'Associate with such persons as have
already made their choice; and have from practice, from success, or
disappointment, learned the exact value of their several professions.
But associate with them as an independent man, one who seeks a variety
of knowledge rather from inclination than necessity; and under these
appearances, Clement, they will court you to receive their confidence,
even their envy of your independence will increase the freedom of their
communications.'
And do you dream, Arthur, that I am practicing these grave maxims, and
hearkening to the jargon of law, physic and divinity? No indeed, not I.
The variety of knowledge I seek is variety in pleasures. My teachers are
divinities whose oracles, more precious than wisdom, can lead the senses
captive and enchain the will.
'Be secret,' said Mr. Valmont. Most readily can I be secret. I would
have it remain a profound and everlasting secret, never to interrupt the
delicious enjoyments which now again hover within my reach, which I must
seize on. I have not the cold ability to chase from me the present
smiling hour of offered delight, because a future hour may frown.
Pleasure beckons, and I follow. I tread the mazy round of her varieties.
Youth, vigour, and fancy conduct me to her shrine, the most
indefatigable of her votaries. Alike, I abjure retrospect and foreboding.
As long as I can find means, will I elude the horrible change; and, if
the fatal hour of darkness must arrive, why, Arthur, it is but to exert
a little manhood, it is but to remember that all the charms of life are
passed by, and boldly to plunge into everlasting darkness.
Imagine not, dear Arthur, by that doleful conclusion that I at all dread
the possibility of its arrival; for, on the contrary, I believe my
dismission is a mere farce, a something with Mr. Valmont to vary project
and prolong inconsistency. I have compared his letters and his speeches;
combined circumstances; and find them, though so various and
contradictory, yet full of hope and promise.
One cause of dread, indeed, will assail me. I dread the rashness of
Sibella. Could you suppose, Murden, that she has even talked of
explaining the nature of our intimacy to her uncle, and of quitting his
castle? Was ever any thing so violent, so absurd, so pregnant with evil
at this scheme? When I had read her letter, I thought every chair in my
apartment was stuffed with thorns. Nay, I endured for a time the
torments of the rack. Thank heaven! Miss Ashburn adopted my sense of the
extravagant proposition, undertook to dissuade Sibella, and restored me
once more to gaiety, courage, and happiness.
Yes, Arthur, established in my former lodgings, courted, surrounded,
congratulated by my former friends, I want but your society and the
embraces of my divine girl to be the happiest of the happy. Thanks,
Murden, for your silence on the subject of Mr. Valmont's threatened
disposal of me. I am every where received like my former self. Oh! had I
met one repulsive look, or supercilious brow, with--your servant, Mr.
Montgomery--I surely should have run mad!
Miss Ashburn knows it all, and I hate her most righteously. I allow that
she is a fine woman, but her beauty is spoiled by her discernment. I
wish Mr. Valmont would refuse Sibella Miss Ashburn's correspondence. The
dear girl is already too eccentric. Yet could I now gaze on that lovely
face, could I now clasp that enchanting unresisting form to my bosom!
Had she ten thousand faults, I should swear they were all perfections.
Murden! you never saw any one who can equal Sibella Valmont! Her charms
cannot pall in possession. Ever a source of new desire, of fresh
delight, adoration must ever be her lover's tribute!--Arthur, I will
make her my wife.
Whom would you suppose I have, to my very great astonishment, found
here, in Mrs. Ashburn's family? No other than Janetta Laundy! I first
saw her at the opera, where I overlooked her with the most studied
neglect. She quitted the party abruptly; and then the Dutchess de N----
informed me of the cruel reverse of fortune in the Laundy family.
Janetta, with so much beauty, she, who lately shone conspicuous in
fashion, taste, and elegance, is now absolutely reduced to the
mortifying state of a humble companion. Upon my soul I was shocked; and,
notwithstanding certain recollections, I could not help feeling a strong
degree of interest and pity for her. A brilliant party, whom we joined
at the supper table of your uncle Sir Thomas Barlowe, banished Janetta
and her misfortunes from my thoughts; but, as I was stepping into a
chair to return home, after I had handed the Dutchess and Mrs. Ashburn to
their carriages, a man put a letter into my hand. The letter was from
Janetta, written in the true spirit of complaint and fondness. She
implored that I would see her; asserted her innocence with respect to
the Duke de N----; and, recollecting the continued attachment of the
Dutchess to her, I was inclined to doubt the evidence of my senses, and
half resolved to give her an opportunity of justifying herself. Again
the circumstances came rushing into my memory, and brought conviction
with them. I determined to contemn and despise her; and steadily to
refuse the interview. She spared me the trouble; for, on the next
morning, while I was dressing to dine at Mrs. Ashburn's, a second letter
was given me, in which Janetta, with mingled love and resentment, bids
me a final adieu.
At Mrs. Ashburn's table Janetta Laundy had no rival in beauty. She
enforced the homage of many eyes; but she received it with so graceful a
reserve, that those who would otherwise have been jealous of her
attractions were irresistibly impelled to own her worthy of admiration.
Toward me, her countenance expressed nothing but a frigid restraint.
Once I approached her seat, and she found an immediate pretence for
withdrawing; and, shall I confess it to you, Arthur, I was in a small
degree mortified.
It has not been merely one day, or two, or three, that Janetta has
upheld her determination. I have been astonished at her inflexibility
and perseverance. I have almost doubted that she could really love me
and be so firm. Scarce a day passes in which we are not together, for
Mr. Ashburn is extravagantly fond of Janetta, and never moves without
her. Mrs. Ashburn selects her parties as I best approve, and consults me
on all her engagements. I attend her every where, and thus Janetta and I
are frequently in the same apartment, in the same carriage, side by
side; and, considering former circumstances, you will not imagine these
can be very desirable situations.
It occurred to me one morning that I ought in justice to make Janetta a
present, notwithstanding her allowance from Mrs. Ashburn is really
splendid. Accordingly, I sent her a 50l. note, inclosed in a letter,
written as I think with delicacy and propriety. The note was accepted,
but the letter remained unanswered.
Two evenings after this, we were at Ranelagh, where Mrs. Ashburn joining
the Ulson family, Janetta and I walked a round or two alone. She then,
with more coldness than I could have thought possible, thanked me for my
present, and hoped my generosity would prove no inconvenience under the
alteration of my affairs.
By heaven, Arthur, her speech was a thunderbolt! I was dumb for the
space of many minutes; and then stammering, incoherent, blushing with
shame, and anger, I protested her meaning was an enigma that I could not
unravel. Hanway at that instant came up, and every opportunity of
further conversation was at an end.
And how do you suppose I aimed to settle the business, to prevent the
cruel supposition from being whispered from one to another around the
circles of my friends? Thus I did it. I took another bank note of 50l.
and wrote another card, in which I alledged that I could only understand
Mademoiselle Laundy's hint as a reproof for the smallness of the sum I
had before sent her, and intreated she would now receive this as an
atonement. I acknowledged the whole was scarcely worthy her acceptance,
but I hoped she would consider I had less at command than in
expectation. I added my fervent wishes for her happiness, but said not
one word of love.
Still I have no answer. How wantonly cruel it is of Miss Ashburn to
throw me thus in the way of torment and contempt! No one but herself
could have told Janetta of the alteration in my affairs. 'Tis false!
there is no alteration: for have I not four hundred pounds in my
possession?
Where are you, and what are you doing, Arthur? By heaven, I never think
of you without astonishment! You whom fortune favours, you so highly
gifted to charm, to be sacrificing the age of delights, in a barbarous
solitude! What, upon earth, can be your inducement? Your uncle pines for
you. Certainly you must be either immoderately sure of your power over
him, or desperately careless of your interest. All who concern
themselves in your fate, apply to me for the explanation of your
mysterious conduct; and, finding I am no more informed than themselves,
they teaze me with their conjectures. Come, Arthur! come! banish
melancholy and misanthropy till age shall have cramped your vigour and
palsied your faculties! Then cast your dim sight upon the flying
pleasures which you are no longer able to pursue, and rail, and be
welcome! But now, while the power is your's, hasten to partake, to
enjoy! The wealth of a nabob gilds the path before you! Beauty spreads
her allurements for you! Come, insensible marble-hearted as you are, to
the inticements of beauty--at least come to interest, if you cannot be
interested; excite the sigh, the languor which you will not return! Be
again as formidable as you once were; and let the meaner candidates, who
triumph in your absence, sink back to insignificance and neglect!
Does not the prospect fire you? I know it does--or, you are unfit to be
the friend of
CLEMENT MONTGOMERY
LETTER XV
FROM LORD FILMAR
TO
SIR WALTER BOYER
One, two, three, or four pages, by Jupiter! cried I, as I opened your
packet, Walter; and I ran over the first ten lines with a devouring
greediness: for, would not any man have expected, as I expected when I
had so lately written you two letters upon the projects and hopes that
dance in gay attire before me, that your epistle must have contained
comments innumerable, hints useful, and cautions sage. Neither comment,
hint, nor caution, could I find. Nothing but four sides of paper covered
with rhapsodies which have neither connection with nor likeness of any
thing in heaven above, in the earth beneath, nor in the waters under the
earth.
Yet, negligent as thou art, still must I write on. My fancy is
overcharged with matter, for I have done wonders: wonders, Walter!
Yesterday at ten o'clock I talked with Lady Monkton's housekeeper; who
once was Mrs. Valmont's housekeeper; and yesterday at four o'clock I
talked with Mr. Valmont himself. Turn back to yesterday; and observe me,
in Sir Gilbert's post coach, arrived with due state and precision before
the venerable doors of Valmont castle, accompanied only by my father,
and attended by Griffiths armed as all outward points like a beau valet,
and like a skilful engineer within laying wait to spring a mine for his
commanding officer.
With measured steps, Mr. Valmont approached us three paces without the
drawing room door. He conducted us to his lady; who, on a rich heavy and
gilded sopha, sat in melancholy grandeur to receive us.
'But the niece,' I hear you cry, 'Not a single glimpse of her, I
suppose?'
'Yes, Sir Walter Boyer, I have seen her.'
'Seen her! Why, I thought----.'
Psha! what can a Baronet have to do with thought?
Mark'd you her eye of heavenly blue!
Mark'd you her cheek of roseate hue!
Do you still doubt? Then shall I proceed, and fire your imagination with
the graces of my goddess. _All enchanting! nothing wanting!_ for I have
gazed my fill--yes--on her picture.--Why look you so, Walter?--Am I not
her predestined lover, and has she not 6000l. per annum?
'Pray, Madam, by what artist was this portrait done?' said I, to Mrs.
Valmont, while the 'Squire and Earl were gone to visit the nymph of the
south wing, with my imagination stealing after them on tiptoe.
'Not by any artist, Sir,' replied the lady. 'It was the performance of
Clement Montgomery. It is drawn for my niece--.'
'Then she must have the honour greatly to resemble you, Madam. Upon my
soul the likeness is astonishing.'
Up rose Mrs. Valmont. 'Why indeed, Lord Filmar, though I never observed
it before, there is something of me in the turn of these features; but
indisposition, Sir, the cruel hand of sickness, has made sad havock with
my face.'--And she pushed a little backward the hood which had almost
hid her remnant of beauty.
In short, dear Walter, I dined at the castle. My father saw the lady and
I saw her picture. My father says, and so says the picture, that she is
very handsome. By the answers to a few questions artfully arranged to
Mrs. Valmont, but more certainly from the result of Griffiths' steady
enquiries among the household, I learn that she is a mere savage, and
loves her fellow savage Clement as she ought only to love me.
Loves her fellow savage Clement! you exclaim. Not less strange than
true, Walter; and, if you would know more, listen as I did to the
aforementioned housekeeper.
'Of all the youths my eyes ever beheld,' said Mrs. Luxmere, 'I think
Master Clement Montgomery was the handsomest; and so affable, my
Lord!--He used to steal into my room once or twice every day to eat
sweetmeats, when Miss Valmont or his tutor did not watch him.'
'But who does this Master Clement Montgomery belong to?' said I.
'To Mr. Valmont, my Lord. I'll tell you exactly how it was. Nobody, as
far as I know, had ever heard of this young gentleman till just after
the 'Squire's niece came to the castle; and then the 'Squire took a
journey, and brought home with him a fine handsome boy. And he gave a
great entertainment; all the rooms were filled with company; and after
dinner he led in Clement Montgomery, and bade every body look on
him as his adopted son. Some people think, indeed, that he is the
'Squire's ----.'
Mrs. Luxmere affected to titter. 'You are of that opinion?' said I.--
'Certainly,' replied Mrs. Luxmere. 'Nothing can be more certain. Old
Andrew has lived five and twenty years with Mr. Valmont; and he can't
deny it. Beside, if you were to see Master Clement, my Lord, you would
swear it. He is so handsome and so genteel!'
'And is Miss Valmont handsome, and genteel, and affable, Mrs. Luxmere?'
'I know very little about her, my Lord, although I lived in the castle
nine years,' said the housekeeper, with much abatement of her warmth.
'Mr. Valmont ordered both her and Master Clement not to speak to any one
of the household, and she never came into my room in her life. Master
Clement used to come so slily!--and many a nice bit has he been eating
beside me, when Miss Valmont has been roaming the house and grounds in
search of him! She has a suite of rooms entirely to herself in the south
wing, and is waited on by silent Andrew and his deaf daughter--'
'Where is Montgomery now?' said I.
'Oh dear, my Lord, you can't think what strange things have happened to
him! The 'Squire sent him abroad and he staid two years and he came home
they say so grown and so improved, it was charming to think of it! Yet
that tyger-hearted Mr. Valmont has disinherited him, and sent him to
London to work for his bread! Poor dear youth! I know it's true, my
Lord.'
Enough of Mrs. Luxmere. It is true, Walter, that this dear and handsome
youth was brought up in the castle with Miss Valmont. Every creature in
it bears testimony to his good nature, for he would not only eat
sweetmeats slily with Mrs. Luxmere, but he would slily ride with the
grooms, tell stories with the butler, and so completely elude the
vigilance of the 'Squire and his tutor, that his contrivances are still
a famous topic in the servants' hall. Not so Miss Valmont. She never
tempted the domestics from their obedience, nor invited them to
familiarity, by that sacrifice of her integrity. I like this part of her
character, nor am I at all inclined to give credit to the supposition
which prevails among the servants of her being deranged in intellect. A
little too hardy of nerve for a Countess, I confess, she roams, they
tell me, in defiance of storm or tempest, in the woods, nay even in the
echoing galleries of the terrific castle, at and after midnight. Some
say she has conversed with apparitions, others only fear that she will
one day or other encounter them; but all agree that, while he was here,
she adored Clement. And since he has been gone she, to an old oak, for
his sake, pays her adorations.
We talked of this Montgomery yesterday, at dinner. His being
disinherited is all stuff. He is Valmont's idol. Valmont praised him to
the skies, not what he is, but what he is to be when all the 'Squire's
plans respecting him shall be completed. Yet he has faults, it seems.
Wonderful! And cast in Mr. Valmont's mould too! What are his faults,
think you, Boyer? Why, he admires the world. Lack a day!--at one and
twenty! But he is to be cured of this defect. Oh, yes; Mr. Valmont
possesses the grand secret! He is quack-royal to the human race; and
possesses the only specific in nature to make a perfect man. Were I in
Montgomery's place, I would wind Valmont round and round my finger.
Care I for the nymph's loving her Clement, think you? ne'er a whit! Did
he win her by caresses, I'll not be behind hand. Or were sighs and
flattery his engine, I can sigh and flatter too. Aye, surely the
practice-taught Filmar may stand a competitorship with Valmont's pupil.
In two months or less, she shall herself decide upon our merits, and
acknowledge me the victor. None of your croakings, Walter. When did I
fail of success where I chose to attempt it, even among beauties armed
with cunning and caution? How then shall I fail with this unadvised,
this inexperienced damsel, whom doubtless a man of less might than I
could draw round the world after him in a cobweb. Should Uncle Valmont
rave when I have secured the prize, I'll send him among the tombs of my
ancestors for consolation. He loves family; and there he may nose out a
long list of worm-eaten rotten heroes, whose noble scent can inform him
that even the blood of the Valmonts may be enriched by uniting with the
offspring of the dust of the Filmars.
My necessities are urgent, Walter. The day of sealing my last mortgage
draws near; and, if my invention is not more fertile on that account, at
least my resolution is more undaunted. Were time less pressing, I might
grow coy with expedient. As it is, I must snatch at bare probabilities;
and, in faith, be it the wildness of the design, be it ambition,
avarice, or be the motive what it may, I grow more and more enamoured of
the heiress of Valmont castle, and more and more fearless of whatever
risks I may encounter to obtain her.
Congratulate me, Walter, on my firmness; and believe me, in a very
considerable degree, thine,
FILMAR
LETTER XVI
FROM CLEMENT MONTGOMERY
TO
ARTHUR MURDEN
I write again and again to you, Arthur, and you remain silent. Yet a
fate so various as mine makes even communication enjoyment. Various, did
I say? no, it was but my apprehensions that were various. The fate was
certain, established beyond the reach of change. Mr. Valmont ever
designed to make me his heir, and designs it still. Yesterday brought me
a welcome letter, and a more welcome remittance. 'I am known to be your
protector, Clement,' says Mr. Valmont in his letter; 'and it is
necessary for my honour that you should preserve a degree of consequence
among men. Moreover, money is the master key to the confidence of men.
Use it as such. Gratify their wants, real or artificial; and they, in
return, will soon display the sordidness the ingratitude of their
hearts.' Precious doctrines, these! And, Arthur, I being wiser than the
sender, have dismissed them, to keep their fellow maxims company in a
close shut drawer in my secretary, where they shall rest in peace until
I turn snarling cynic also.
But the intimation, Arthur!--the cash, Arthur! I have not hoarded those
in a drawer! you hear that it is necessary for Mr. Valmont's honor that
I preserve consequence among men. Ah! dear Sir! leave me ever thus to
the support of your honor among men! I will not complain though you
preserve wholly to yourself the felicity of being locked within the
walls of Valmont's castle! I yield the building, and am content alone to
aim at preserving your honour and dignity with the valued produce of its
rich acres.