_Here eloquence herself might plead in vain,
Nor one of all the heartless crowd could gain.
And thou! O sweeter than the muse's song,
Affection's voice divine! with cold disdain,
Even thou art heard; while mid th' insulting throng
Thy daunted shivering form moves timidly along._
Mrs Tighe.
Marriage is like sin; if we often allow it to be presented to our view,
we learn to look without starting. I was supremely indifferent towards
Lord Frederick, and never entertained one serious thought of becoming
his wife; but I suffered myself to be rallied upon our future
connection, till the idea excited no distinct sentiment of
disapprobation; and till by degrees I forgot to make up for the
faintness of my denials, by the strength of my inward resolutions
against the match. Perhaps I should describe my case more correctly,
were I to own that I formed no plan for the future; all my serious
consideration being reserved for the comparative merits of satin and
velvet, or of an assembly and an opera. The reputation of Lord
Frederick's attentions gave me much more pleasure than the attentions
themselves; and my companions knew how to flatter me, by reminding me of
his assiduities.
Of all my remembrancers, the most persevering, if not the most vehement,
was Miss Arnold. She had made her calculations on the increased
importance which rank might give her patroness; and, with her accustomed
shrewdness, chose the means most effectual for promoting her object. She
did not, indeed, like others of my acquaintance, rally me upon marriage;
on the contrary, she rather affected some delicacy upon that subject;
but, in Lord Frederick's absence, she made him her constant theme; and
the moment he approached, she resigned to him her place by my side. As
she had intimate access to my mind, she knew how to accommodate her
attacks to my prevailing sentiments. At first, she confined herself to
chronicling the symptoms of Lady Maria's jealousy and spite; amusing me
with pictures, half mimic, half descriptive, of the ill-concealed malice
of my foe, and instigating me to further irritation. Next, she began to
mingle her register with hints of having observed, that the sport was
becoming a serious one to Lord Frederick. I was at first little inclined
to credit a circumstance which would have added to the impropriety of my
favourite amusement; but when at last Miss Arnold's instances, and my
own exuberant vanity, convinced me of the fact, some remains of justice
and humanity prompted me to a change of conduct.
'If Lord Frederick has really taken it into his wise head to be in love
with me,' said I to her one day when we were alone, 'I believe, Juliet,
I ought to carry the jest no farther.'
I spoke with great gravity, for I was half afraid that she must be of my
opinion. She looked steadily in my face, as if to see whether I were in
earnest; and then burst into a hearty fit of laughter.--'Ridiculous!'
cried she: 'what! you expect him to die of it, do you? Really, my dear,
I did not think you had been so romantic.'
I believe I blushed for appearing to over-rate a passion which my
companion considered as so frivolous; and answered carelessly, 'Oh! I
dare say he'll survive it; but one would not wilfully give uneasiness,
however trivial, you know.'
'Bagatelle! you, who make a hundred hearts ache every day, to trouble
your conscience about one stray thing! Besides, I'll answer for it, that
the affair upon the whole will give him more pleasure than pain. How
many sighs, such as lordlings breathe, would it require to repay Lord
Frederick for that air of yours, as you turned to him last night from
young Lord Glendower!'
'Ah! but that pleasure was a free gift, Juliet. I have no right to make
him pay for it; besides, Glendower is such a fool, that it was really a
relief to get rid of him. But, to be serious, I believe I shall effect
my retreat with the better grace, the sooner I begin it.'
Miss Arnold was silent for a few moments, apparently pondering the
matter; then, with an air of mature reflection, said, 'Well! perhaps,
upon the whole, you may be right. Your indifference will probably cure
Lord Frederick; besides, it will be a double charity,--it will be such a
relief to Lady Maria, poor girl! I confess, Ellen, I am often sorry for
her. Did you observe what a passion she was in last night when Lord
Frederick would not quit you to dance with Lady Augusta Loftus?'
'It was provoking to see one's brother show so little taste,' answered
I, pulling myself up, and trying to suppress a simper. 'I should have
thought I had no chance with Lady Augusta.'
'Not, indeed,' returned Miss Arnold, with a contemptuous smile, 'if
every one judged like Lady Maria de Burgh; and estimated a woman, like a
carrot, by the length of root she had under ground! Oh! what a passion
she will be in when Lord Frederick makes his proposals, and is refused!'
'But if I go much farther, Juliet, how can I refuse him? I can't tell
the man that I have been drawing him on merely for the purpose of
teasing his sister.'
'Well,' returned Miss Arnold, 'after all, I believe you are right; so
just do as you please. Your father, to be sure, might easily manage that
matter,--but do as you please.'
She knew that she might safely intrust me with this permission; secure
that, even if my resolutions were good, they would be ineffective. To
shake off the attentions of a man who has once been encouraged, requires
more firmness than usually falls to the lot of woman. Besides, Lord
Frederick had habit in his favour; and, with those who are neither
guided by reason nor principle, habit is omnipotent. Pride, too, refused
to resign the only means of repaying Lady Maria's scorn; and, in spite
of the momentary checks of conscience, the flirtation proceeded just as
before.
While my soi-disant friend encouraged my follies, no Mentor was at hand
to repress them. My father, mingling little in the circles which I
frequented, was ignorant of the encouragement which I gave to Lord
Frederick. Miss Mortimer, ill calculated to arrest the notice of the gay
and the giddy, was almost excluded from the endless invitations which
were addressed to me. The public amusements, which consumed so much of
my time, were unsuitable to her habits, to her principles, and to the
delicacy of her health. Thus she was seldom the witness of my
indiscretions. There is, indeed, no want of people who serve all
scandalous tales as the monasteries were wont to do poor strangers,
dress them out a little, and help them on their way. But these
charitable persons care not to consign a calumny to those who will
neither welcome nor advance it; and Miss Mortimer's declared aversion to
scandal kept her ignorant of some of the real, and much of the fabulous
history of her acquaintance. Accordingly, my intimacy with Lord
Frederick had, for almost three months, excited the smiles, the envy, or
the censure of 'every body one knows,' when Miss Mortimer was surprised
into hearing a copious account of my imprudence from a lady, who
declared 'that she was quite concerned to see that lovely girl, Miss
Percy, give so much occasion for censorious tales!' Who could doubt the
kindness of that concern which led her to detail my errors to my friend,
while she delicately forbore from hinting them to myself! My entrance
happening to interrupt her narrative, I heard her say, with great
emphasis,--'So very ridiculous, that I thought it an act of
friendship----' But, seeing me, she stopped; frowned very significantly
at Miss Mortimer; and then, resuming her complacency of countenance, she
accosted me in the most affectionate manner, protesting that she
rejoiced in being so fortunate as to meet with me. 'I was just telling
Miss Mortimer,' said she, 'that I never saw you look so lovely as when
you were delighting us all with that divine concerto upon the harp last
night.' In the same style she ran on for about three minutes; then
declaring, that she always forgot how time went when she was visiting
us, she hurried away; first, however, repeating her frown to Miss
Mortimer, accompanied with a cautioning shake of the head.
I turned towards my real friend, and observed that she was looking on me
through rising tears. We were alone, and I think I was always less
indocile, less unamiable, when there were few witnesses of my behaviour.
Touched with the affectionate concern that was painted in her face,
before I knew what I was doing, I had locked her hand in mine, and had
enquired 'what was the matter with my good friend?'
'My dearest Ellen,' returned she, and her mild eyes filled again, 'would
you but allow me to be your friend! But I will not talk to you now. That
prating woman has discomposed me.'
My conscience at that moment giving warning of a lecture in embryo, I
instantly recollected myself. 'Oh!' cried I, 'how can you mind what she
says? She is so prodigal of her talk, that her own stores are nothing to
her. She must depend upon the public for supply, and you know what the
proverb says of "begging and choosing." But I must be gone; I promised
to meet Lady Waller at the exhibition. Good-by.'
My reader, especially if he be a male reader, will more easily conceive
than I can express, the abhorrence of rebuke which, at this period of my
life, was strong upon me. I believe I could with more patience have
endured a fit of cramp, than the most gentle reproof that ever
friendship administered. By Miss Arnold's help, I for some days escaped
the admonitions of Miss Mortimer, till I was unfortunately placed at her
mercy, by an indisposition which I caught in striving, for two hours, to
make my way through the Duchess of ----'s lobby on the night of a rout.
The first day of my illness, Miss Arnold was pretty constantly at my
bed-side. The second, she was obliged to dine abroad, and could not
return before two o'clock in the morning. The third, while she was gone
to the auction to buy some toy which I had intended purchasing, I
received permission to leave my chamber; and Miss Mortimer, who had
scarcely quitted me by day or night, attended me to my dressing-room.
From mere habit, I approached my glass; but three days of illness had
destroyed its power to please. 'Bless me,' cried I, 'what shall I do? I
am not fit to be seen! And I am dying to see somebody or other. Do,
Grant, tell them to let in Mr Maitland, if he calls. It is ten to one
that he will not observe what a haggard wretch I look.'
'I have heard,' said Miss Mortimer, 'that love-lorn damsels sigh for
solitude. I hope your inclination for company is a sign that your heart
is still safe, in spite of reports to the contrary.' She forced a smile,
yet looked in my face with such sad earnestness, as if she had wished,
but feared to read my soul.
There is no escape now, thought I, so I must make the best of it. 'Quite
safe,' answered I; 'so safe that I scarcely know whether I have one. I
rather imagine, that in me, as in certain heroines whom I have read of
at school, a deficiency has been made on one side, on purpose that I
might wound with greater dexterity and success.'
'I rejoice to hear you say so,' returned Miss Mortimer, 'and still more
to see by that candid countenance, that you are not deceiving yourself.
I knew that you were above deceiving me.'
'Nay,' said I, 'I won't answer for that, if I had any thing serious to
conceal; but there is no cause for deceit. I would not give my dear Fido
here for all other animals of his sex upon earth, except my father
and----'
'And whom?' asked Miss Mortimer.
'I was going to say Mr Maitland,' answered I, 'because he is so good a
man; but Fido is a hundred times more affectionate and amusing.'
Miss Mortimer now smiled without trying it. 'Mr Maitland is, indeed, a
good man,' said she; 'and if you would show him half the kindness and
attention that you do to Fido----'
She too, left the sentence unfinished. Now, though I had not, I believe,
a thought of finding a lover in Mr Maitland, I often recollected, not
without pique, Miss Mortimer's first decision on that subject; and, with
a vague idea that she was going to recant, I said, with some quickness,
'Well, what would happen if I did?'
'You would find him quite as amusing,' answered she.
'Is that all?' said I, poutingly; 'then I may as well amuse myself with
Lord Frederick, who does not give me the trouble of drawing him out.'
In my momentary pet I had started the very subject which I wished to
avoid. Miss Mortimer instantly took advantage of my inadvertence. 'A
little more caution,' said she, gravely, 'may be necessary in the one
case than in the other; for Mr Maitland, far from wilfully misleading
you, would guard the delicacy of your good name with a father's
jealousy.'
'In what respect does Lord Frederick mislead me?'
'Nay, I will not assert that he does; but, my dear Ellen, our
grandmothers used to warn us against the arts of men. They represented
lovers as insidious spoilers, subtle to contrive, and forward to seize
every occasion of advantage. I fear the nature of the pursuer remains
the same, though the pursuit be transferred from our persons to our
fortunes.'
'Gorgons, and hydras, and chimeras dire!' exclaimed I; 'what a train you
have conjured up! But I can assure you, Lord Frederick is no insidious
spoiler, nor subtle, nor very bold; but a good-natured, giddy-brained
fellow, no more a match for me in cunning than I am for him at the
small-sword.'
'Take care, Ellen. We all over-rate ourselves where we are deficient. No
part of your character is more striking than your perfect singleness of
heart.'
'But what need is there of so much caution. I may as well marry Lord
Frederick as any body else. He wants fortune, I want rank. The bargain
would be very equitable. What objection could there be to it?'
'None,' replied Miss Mortimer, with a deep sigh, 'provided that your
father were satisfied; and, which is, if possible, of still more
importance, provided you are sure that Lord Frederick is the man whom
your sober judgment would approve.'
'What! would you have me marry on mere sober judgment?'
'No, I would not go quite so far; but, at least, I would not have you
marry against your sober judgment. Much, very much, will depend upon the
character of your husband. Toys cannot always please you, Ellen; for you
have warm affections. These affections may meet with neglect, perhaps
with unkindness; and have your habits fitted you for patient endurance?
You have strong feelings; and have you learnt the blessed art of
weakening their power upon your own mind, by diverting them into less
selfish channels?'
She spoke with such warmth as flushed her cheek with almost youthful
bloom; while I smiled at the solemnity with which she treated a subject
so far from serious; and inwardly pitied that ignorance of the world,
which could so much mistake the nature of a harmless flirtation. 'Oh!'
cried I, 'if I were to marry Lord Frederick, I should support his
neglect with great philosophy; and as for unkindness, we could provide
against that in the settlements.'
Miss Mortimer's manner grew still more solemn. 'Answer me as gaily as
you will,' said she, 'but, by all that you value, my dearest child, I
adjure you to be serious with yourself. You have told me that you mean
one day to change your plan of life,--to put away childish things,--to
begin your education for eternity. Is Lord Frederick well fitted to be
your companion,--your assistant in this mighty work?'
This view of the subject was far too awful for sport, far too just for
raillery, and far too grave for my taste; so I hastened to dismiss the
theme. 'Well, well, my good Miss Mortimer,' said I, 'be under no
apprehensions; I have not the slightest intention of marrying Lord
Frederick.'
'If that be the case,' returned she, 'suffer me to ask why you encourage
his attentions.'
'Merely for the sake of a little amusement,' answered I.
'Ah, Ellen!' said Miss Mortimer, 'how many young women are lured on by
the same bait, till they have no honourable means of escape; and marry
without even inclination to excuse their folly or mitigate its effects!
Let the warning voice of experience----'
The warning voice was, at that moment, silenced by the entrance of Miss
Arnold. 'Here, Ellen,' said she, 'is a packet for you, which I found in
the lobby.--What have you got there?' continued she, as I opened it.
'A note from Lord Frederick, and two tickets to Lady St Edmunds' masked
ball.'
'Delightful! When is it to be?'
'On Monday, the fifth of May.'
'Oh, we have no engagement; that is charming!'
Miss Arnold skipped about, and seemed quite in ecstasies. Miss Mortimer,
on the contrary, looked gravely intent upon her work. Her gravity, and
the extravagance of Juliet's raptures, alike restrained my pleasure; and
I only expressed it by saying, with tolerable composure, that of all
amusements, a masked ball was the one which I most desired to see.
'Oh! it will be enchanting!' cried Miss Arnold. 'What dresses shall we
wear, Ellen?'
Miss Mortimer having cut a cap, which she had been shaping, into more
than fifty shreds, now leant earnestly towards me; and, timid and
faltering, as if she feared my answer, asked, 'if I would accept of Lord
Frederick's tickets?'
'To be sure she will,' said Miss Arnold, answering for me.
'Why should I not?' said I.
'I hope you will at least consider the matter,' returned Miss Mortimer,
still addressing herself particularly to me. 'This sort of amusement is
regarded with suspicion by all sober-minded persons; and I own I could
wish that Miss Percy thought this a sufficient reason for refusing it
her countenance.'
'I am sure that is a nonsensical prejudice,' cried Miss Arnold. 'At a
subscription masquerade, indeed, one might meet with low people, but at
Lady St Edmunds' there will be none but the best company in town.'
'The best _born_ company, I suppose you mean,' answered Miss Mortimer;
'but I imagine, that the very use of masks is to banish the privileges
and the restraints of personal respectability.'
'Nay now, my dear Miss Mortimer!' cried I, playfully laying my hand upon
her mouth, 'pray don't throw away that nice lecture; you know I never
was at a masquerade in my life, and you would not be so savage as to
prose me out of going to one! only one!'
'If I thought there were any chance of success,' said Miss Mortimer,
smiling affectionately on me, 'I would make captives of these little
hands till I tried all my rhetoric.'
'It would be all lost,' cried I, 'for positively I must and will go.'
Miss Mortimer's countenance fell; for she knew that in spite of the
sportiveness of my manner, I was inaccessible to conviction; she
clearly perceived, though I was unconscious of the association, that my
pride connected an idea of rebellious presumption with whatever thwarted
my inclination; and she saw that no argument was likely to find
admission, where, instead of being welcomed as an honest counsellor, it
was guarded against as an insolent mutineer.
After a short silence, she changed her point of attack. 'If,' said she,
'your acceptance of Lord Frederick's tickets implies any obligation to
accept his particular attendance, I think, Ellen, you will see the
prudence of refusing them.'
Recollecting our late conversation, I felt myself embarrassed, and knew
not what to answer. But my companion quickly relieved my dilemma.
'Indeed, Miss Mortimer,' said she, 'you know nothing of these matters.
Ellen cannot invite gentlemen to Lady St Edmunds' house, so it is clear
that we must allow Lord Frederick to go with us; but when we are there,
we shall soon find attendants enough.'
'Yes,' said I, willing to satisfy Miss Mortimer; 'and when we get into
the rooms, we shall be under the Countess's protection, and may shake
off the gentlemen as soon as we choose.'
Miss Mortimer looked more and more anxious. 'What protection can Lady St
Edmunds afford you,' said she, 'where hundreds around her have equal
claims; and left in such a place without any guard but your own
discretion?--dearest Ellen, I beseech you, return these tickets.'
Though I was far from owning to myself that Miss Mortimer was in the
right, I could not entirely suppress the consciousness that my
resistance was wrong. The consequence was, that I grew angry with her
for making me displeased with myself, and peevishly answered, that I
would not return the tickets, nor be debarred from a harmless amusement
by any body's unfounded prejudices.
'Call them prejudices, or what you will, Ellen,' said Miss Mortimer, in
a voice which I must have been a savage to resist, 'only yield to them!'
My self-condemnation, and of course my ill-humour, were increased by her
mildness; and, forgetting all her claims to my respect, all her patient
affection, all her saint-like forbearance, I turned upon her with the
petulance of a spoiled child, and asked, 'who gave her a right to thwart
and importune me?' Tears rushed to her meek eyes. 'It was your mother!
Ellen,' cried she; 'when she bade me, in remembrance of our long and
faithful friendship, to watch and advise, and restrain her child. Will
you not give me up a few short hours of pleasure for her sake?'
I was overpowered and burst into tears; yet tears, I must own, as much
of spleen as of tenderness. Such as they were, I was ashamed of them;
and dashing them away, snatched the tickets and enclosed them in a short
note of apology to Lord Frederick. 'Are you going to return them?' cried
Miss Arnold, looking over my shoulder at what I had written, and
speaking in a tone of the utmost surprise. 'Certainly!' said I, in a
manner so decided, that without the least attempt to oppose my design,
she sat down opposite to me, as if taking wistfully her last look of the
tickets.
'Pull the bell, Juliet,' said I, somewhat triumphantly, as I sealed the
note.
'Give me the note,' said Miss Arnold, 'I am going down stairs, and will
give it to a servant. It is a pity the poor creatures should have
unnecessary trouble.' She took the packet, and quitted the room.
Miss Mortimer, the big drops still trickling down her cheek, pressed my
hand, as if she would have thanked me, had her voice been at her
command. Conscious of having made a proper sacrifice, I involuntarily
recovered my good humour; but my pride refused to let my kind friend
think her victory complete; and, releasing my hand, I turned away with
cold stateliness.
But what am I doing? Is the world peopled with Miss Mortimers, that I
should expect its forbearance for such a character as mine?--No; but I
will endure the shame which I have merited. Detest me, reader. I was
worthy of your detestation! Throw aside, if you will, my story in
disgust. Yet remember, that indignation against vice is not of itself
virtue. Your abhorrence of pride and ingratitude is no farther genuine,
than, as it operates against your own pride, your own ingratitude.