WOMAN'S KINDNESS.
On the count's return home, he found General Butzou in better
spirits, still poring over his journal. This book seemed to be the
representative of all which had ever been dear to him. He dwelt upon
it and talked about it with a doating eagerness bordering on
insanity.
These symptoms, increasing from day to day, gave his young friend
considerable uneasiness. He listened with pain to the fond dreams
which took possession of the poor old man, who delighted in saying
that much might yet be done in Poland when he should be recovered,
and they be enabled to return together to Warsaw, and stimulate the
people to resume their rights.
Thaddeus at first attempted to prove the emptiness of these schemes;
but seeing that contradiction on this head threw the general into
deeper despondency, he thought it better to affect the same
sentiments, too well perceiving that death would soon terminate these
visions with the venerable dreamer's life.
Accordingly, as far as lay in the count's power, he satisfied all the
fancied wants of his revered friend, who on every other subject was
perfectly reasonable; but at last he became so absorbed in this
chimerical plot, that other conversation, or his meals, seemed to
oppress him with restraint.
When Thaddeus perceived that his company was rather irksome than a
comfort to his friend, he the more readily repeated his visits to
Lady Tinemouth. She now looked for his appearance at least once a
day. If ever a morning and an evening passed away without his
appearance, he was sure of being scolded by Miss Egerton, reproached
by the countess, and frowned at by Lady Sara Ross. In defiance of all
other engagements, this lady contrived to drop in every night at Lady
Tinemouth's. Her ladyship was not more surprised at this sudden
attachment of Lady Sara to her house than pleased with her society.
She found she could lay aside in her little circle that tissue of
affectation and fashion which she wore in public, and really became a
charming woman.
Though Lady Sara was vain, she was mistress of sufficient sense to
penetrate with tolerable certainty into the characters of her
acquaintance. Most of the young men with whom she had hitherto
associated having lived from youth to manhood amongst those
fashionable assemblies where individuality is absorbed in the general
mass of insipidity, she saw they were frivolous, though obsequious to
her, or, at the best, warped in taste, if not in principle; and the
fascinations she called forth to subdue them were suited to their
objects--her beauty, her thoughtless, or her caprice. But, on the
reverse, when she formed the wish to entangle such a man as Thaddeus,
she soon discovered that to engage his attention she must appear in
the unaffected graces of nature. To this end she took pains to
display the loveliness of her form in every movement and position;
yet she managed the action with so inartificial and frank an air,
that she seemed the only person present who was unconscious of the
versatility and power of her charms. She conversed with good sense
and propriety. In short, she appeared completely different from the
gay, ridiculous creature he had seen some weeks before in the
countess's drawing-room.
He now admired both her person and her mind. Her winning softness,
the vivacity of Miss Egerton, and the kindness of the countess,
beguiled him many an evening from the contemplation of melancholy
scenes at his humble and anxious home.
One night it came into the head of Sophia Egerton to banter him about
his military dress. "Do, for heaven's sake, my dear Don Quixote,"
cried she, "let us see you out of your rusty armor! I declare I grow
frightened at it. And I cannot but think you would be merrier out of
that customary suit of solemn black!"
This demand was not pleasing to Thaddeus, but he good-humoredly
replied, "I knew not till you were so kind as to inform me that a
man's temper depends on his clothes."
"Else, I suppose," cried she, interrupting him, "you would have
changed yours before? Therefore, I expect you will do as I bid you
now, and put on a Christian's coat against you next enter this
house."
Thaddeus was at a loss what to say; he only bowed; and the countess
and Lady Sara smiled at her nonsense.
When they parted for the night, this part of the conversation passed
off from all minds but that of Lady Tinemouth. She had considered the
subject, but in a different way from her gay companion. Sophia
supposed that the handsome Constantine wore the dress of his country
because it was the most becoming. But as such a whim did not
correspond with the other parts of his character, Lady Tinemouth. in
her own mind, attributed this adherence to his national habit to the
right cause.
She remarked that whenever she wished him to meet any agreeable
people at her house, he always declined these introductions under the
plea of his dress, though he never proposed to alter it. This
conduct, added to his silence on every subject which related to the
public amusements about town, led her to conclude, that, like the
banished nobility of France he was encountering the various
inconveniences of poverty in a foreign land. She hoped that he had
escaped its horrors; but she could not be certain, for he always
shifted the conversation when it too closely referred to himself.
These observations haunted the mind of Lady Tinemouth, and made her
anxious to contrive some opportunity in which she might have this
interesting Constantine alone, and by a proper management of the
discourse, lead to some avowal of his real situation. Hitherto her
benevolent intentions had been frustrated by various interruptions at
various times. Indeed, had she been actuated by mere curiosity, she
would long ago have resigned the attempt as fruitless; but pity and
esteem kept her watchful until the very hour in which her considerate
heart was fully satisfied.
One morning, when she was writing in her cabinet, a servant informed
her that Mr. Constantine was below. Pleased at this circumstance, she
took advantage of a slight cold that affected her; and hoping to draw
something out of him in the course of a _tete-à-tete_, begged he
would favor her by coming into her private room.
When he entered, she perceived that he looked more pensive than
usual. He sat down by her, and expressed his concern at her
indisposition. She sighed heavily, but remained silent. Her thoughts
were too much occupied with her kind plan to immediately form a
reply. She had determined to give him a cursory idea of her own
unhappiness, and thus, by her confidence, attract him.
"I hope Miss Egerton is well?" inquired he.
"Very well, Mr. Constantine. A heart at ease almost ever keeps the
body in health. May she long continue as happy as at this period, and
never know the disappointments of her friend!"
He looked at the countess.
"It is true, my dear sir," continued she. "It is hardly probable that
the mere effect of thirty-seven years could have made the inroads on
my person which you see; but sorrow has done it; and with all the
comforts you behold around me, I am miserable. I have no joy
independent of the few friends which Heaven has preserved to me; and
yet," added she, "I have another anxiety united with those of which I
complain; some of my friends, who afford me the consolation I
mention, deny me the only return in my power, the office of sharing
their griefs."
Thaddeus understood the expression of her ladyship's eye and the
tenderness of her voice as she uttered these words. He saw to whom
the kind reproach was directed, and he looked down confused and
oppressed.
The countess resumed.
"I cannot deny what your countenance declares; you think I mean you.
I do, Mr. Constantine. I have marked your melancholy; I have weighed
other circumstances; and I am sure that you have many things to
struggle with besides the regrets which must ever hang about the
bosom of a brave man who has witnessed the destruction of his
country. Forgive me, if I give you pain," added she, observing his
heightening color. "I speak from real esteem; I speak to you as I
would to my own son were he in your situation."
"My dearest madam!" cried Thaddeus, overcome by her benevolence, "you
have judged rightly; I have many things to struggle with. I have a
sick friend at home, whom misfortune hath nearly bereft of reason,
and whose wants are now so complicated and expensive, that never till
now did I know the complete desolation of a man without a country or
a profession. For myself, Lady Tinemouth, adversity has few pangs;
but for my friend, for an old man whose deranged faculties have
forgotten the change in my affairs, he who leans on me for support
and comfort,--it is this that must account to your ladyship for those
inconsistencies in my manner and spirits which are so frequently the
subject of Miss Egerton's raillery."
Thaddeus, in the course of this short and rapid narrative, gradually
lowered the tone of his voice, and at the close covered his face with
his hand. He had never before confided the history of his
embarrassments to any creature; and he thought (notwithstanding the
countess's solicitations) he had committed an outrage on the firmness
of his character by having in anyway acknowledged the weight of his
calamities.
Lady Tinemouth considered a few minutes, and then addressed him.
"I should ill repay this generous confidence, my noble young friend,
were I to hesitate a moment in forming some plan which may prove of
service to you. You have told me no more, Mr. Constantine, than I
suspected. And I had something in view." Here the countess stopped,
expecting that her auditor would interrupt her. He remained silent,
and she proceeded: "You spoke of a profession, of an employment."
"Yes, madam," returned he, taking his hands from his eyes; "I should
be glad to engage in any profession or employment you would
recommend."
"I have little interest," answered her ladyship, "with people in
power; therefore I cannot propose anything which will in any degree
suit with your rank; but the employment that I have in view, several
of the most illustrious French nobility have not disdained to
execute."
"Do not fear to mention it to me," cried the count, perceiving her
reluctance; "I would attempt anything that is not dishonorable, to
render service to my poor friend."
"Well, then, would you have any objection to teach languages?"
Thaddeus immediately answered, "Oh, no! I should be happy to do so."
"Then," replied she, greatly relieved by the manner in which he
received her proposal, "I will now tell you that about a week ago I
paid a visit to Lady Dundas, the widow of Sir Hector Dundas, the rich
East Indian director. Whilst I was there, I heard her talking with
her two daughters about finding a proper master to teach them German.
That language has become a very fashionable accomplishment amongst
literary ladies; and Misa Dundas, being a member of the Blue-stocking
Club, [Footnote: Such was the real name given at the time to Mrs.
Montague's celebrated literary parties, held at her house in Portman
Square. The late venerable Sir William Pepys was one of their last
survivors.] had declared her resolution to make a new translation of
Werter. Lady Dundas expressed many objections against the vulgarity
of various teachers whom the young ladies proposed, and ended with
saying that unless some German gentleman could be found, they must
remain ignorant of the language. Your image instantly shot across my
mind; and deeming it a favorable opportunity, I told her ladyship
that if she could wait a few days, I would sound a friend of mine,
who I knew, if he would condescend to take the trouble, must be the
most eligible person imaginable. Lady Dundas and the girls gladly
left the affair to me, and I now propose it to you."
"And I," replied he, "with a thousand thanks, accept the task."
"Then I will make the usual arrangements," returned her ladyship,
"and send you the result."
After half an hour's further conversation, Lady Tinemouth became more
impressed with the unsophisticated delicacy and dignity of the
count's mind; and he, more grateful than utterance could declare,
left his respects for Miss Egerton, and took his leave.