CHAPTER IX

_Contains the catastrophe of Lady Mellasin's and her daughter Flora's

adventures while on this side the globe_

While this unhappy little family were in their concealment, each of them

set their whole wits to work to find some means by which Lady Mellasin

might be extricated from that terrible dilemma she had brought herself

into.

But as this was a thing in it's very nature, as affairs had been

managed, morally impossible to be accomplished, all their endeavours to

that purpose only served to shew them the extreme vanity of the attempt,

and consequently to render them more miserable.

Despair, at length, and the near prospect of approaching want, so

humbled the once haughty spirit of Lady Mellasin, that she resolved on

writing to Mr. Edward Goodman--to make use of all her rhetorick to

soothe him into forgiveness for the troubles she had occasioned

him--and, in fine, to petition relief from the very man whom she had

made use of the most villainous arts to prejudice.

The contents of her letter to that much-injured gentleman were as

follows.

'To Edward Goodman, Esq.

Sir,

Appearances are so much against me that I scarce dare say I am

innocent, though I know myself so, as to any intention of doing you

injustice: I cannot, however, forbear giving you a short sketch of

the imposition which has been practiced upon me, and in my name

attempted to be put on you.

The will, which has occasioned this long contest between us, was

brought me by a person who told me he had drawn it up exactly

according to my late husband's instructions, the very evening

before he died; the subscribing witnesses gave me the same

assurance; and also added, that Mr. Goodman was so well convinced

of my integrity, and the wrong he had done me by suspecting it,

that had he lived only to the next morning, he had resolved to send

for me home, and be reconciled to me in the face of the world: so

that, if the thing was a piece of forgery, these men are only

guilty--I am entirely free from any share in it.

But as these proceedings, which I have unhappily been prevailed

upon to countenance, have given you a great deal of trouble and

expence, I sincerely ask your pardon for it: this is all the

atonement I can make to Heaven for offences more immediately my

own.

I am very sensible, notwithstanding, that, by what I have done, I

have not only forfeited my claim to such part of the effects of Mr.

Goodman as appertain to the widow of an eminent and wealthy

citizen, but, likewise, all my pretensions to the friendship and

favour of the person he has made his heir: yet, Sir, however guilty

I may seem to you, or how great my faults in reality may have been,

I cannot help being of opinion that, when you remember I was once

the wife of an uncle, whose memory you have so much cause to value,

you will think the name and character I have borne, ought to defend

me from publick infamy, parish-alms, and beggary.

Reduced as I am, it would ill become me to make any stipulations,

or lay a tax on the goodness I am necessitated to implore. No, Sir;

as I can now demand nothing, so, also, I can hope for nothing but

from your compassion and generosity; and to these two amiable

qualities alone shall ascribe whatever provision you shall think

fit to make for me out of that abundance I was once in full

possession of.

I shall add no more, than to intreat you will consider, with some

portion of attention and good-nature, on what I have lately been,

and what I at present am, the most unfortunate, and most forlorn of

womankind,

M. MELLASIN GOODMAN.

P.S. My daughter Flora, the innocent partner of my griefs and

sufferings, will have the honour to deliver this to you, and, I

hope, return with a favourable answer.'

Lady Mellasin chose to send Miss Flora with this letter, as believing

her agreeable person, and manner of behaviour, would have a greater

effect on that youthful heart of the person it was addressed to, than

could have been expected from the formal and affected gravity of Mrs.

Prinks.

It is not unlikely, too, but that she might flatter herself with the

hopes of greater advantages by her daughter's going in person to Mr.

Goodman's, than those which her letter had petitioned for. She had often

heard and read of men whose resentment had been softened and melted into

tenderness on the appearance of a lovely object: as the poet somewhere

or other expresses it--

'Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray;

Who can tread sure on the smooth, slipp'ry way?'

Miss Flora herself was also very far from being displeased at going on

this errand; and as it was not proper for her to dress in the manner she

would have done on making a visit to any other person, it cost her some

time, before her setting out, to equip herself in such a deshabille as

she thought would be most genteel and become her best.

She had the good fortune to find Mr. Goodman at home, and was

immediately introduced to him. He was a little surprized at a visit made

him by a young lady whom he had never seen before; but not enough to

prevent him from receiving her with the utmost complaisance. He saluted

her, seated her in a chair, and then asked her what commands she had to

favour him with: on which, taking out the letter, and giving it to him,

'This, Sir,' said she, with a deep sigh, 'will inform you of the request

that brings me here.'

Mr. Goodman read it hastily over; but, while he was doing so, could not

forbear shaking his head several times; yet spoke nothing till after a

pause of some minutes. 'Madam,' said he, 'as this is a business which I

could not expect to have heard of, I must confess myself altogether

unprepared how to proceed in it. If Lady Mellasin,' added he, 'will give

herself the trouble to send in three or four days, she may depend on an

answer from me.'

The coldness of these words, and the distant air he assumed while

speaking them, so widely different from that with which he had accosted

this lady on her first entrance, made her presently see she had nothing

to hope from this embassy on her own account, and made her also tremble

for that of her mother.

As he urged her not to stay, nor even gave the least hint that he was

desirous of her doing so, she rose, and, with a most dejected air, took

her leave; telling him, in going out, that she should not fail of

acquainting Lady Mellasin with his commands; who, she doubted not, would

be punctual in obeying them.

Mr. Goodman was, indeed, too well acquainted with the character of Miss

Flora to be capable of receiving any impression from the charms nature

had bestowed upon her, even though they had been a thousand times more

brilliant than in effect they were, and she had not been the daughter of

a woman who had rendered herself so justly hateful to him.

Lady Mellasin was shocked to the very soul at being told the reception

her daughter had met with; and could not help looking upon it as a very

bad omen of her future success. She doubted but by his saying that he

must have time for deliberation, he meant that he would do nothing in

this point, without having first consulted his friends; and she had no

reason to expect that any of those he conversed with would give counsel

in her favour.

To be reduced from a state of opulence and respect to one of poverty,

contempt, and wretchedness, is terrible indeed! but much more so when

accompanied with a consciousness of having deserved, by our vices and

ill conduct, all the misfortunes we complain of.

Lady Mellasin having no pleasing reflection of having done her duty in

any one point of life, it would not have been strange if, thus destitute

of comfort from within, all succour from without, she had yielded

herself to the last despair.

She, nevertheless, amidst all the distraction of her thoughts, still

continued to testify a resolution seldom to be found among women of her

abandoned principles; never departing from this maxim, that, in the

worst of events, nothing was to be neglected. On the third day she sent

Mrs. Prinks to wait upon Mr. Goodman for his answer; having experienced

the little effect her daughter's presence had produced.

It is a thing well worth the observation of all degrees of people, that

the truly generous never keep long in suspense the persons they think

proper objects of their bounty. A favour that costs too much pains in

obtaining, loses great part of it's value--it palls upon the mind of the

receiver, and looks more like being extorted than bestowed.

Mr. Cowley, though a man whose great merit, one would think, should have

set him above the necessity of making any request of a pecuniary nature,

was certainly obliged, sometimes, to solicitations that were very

uneasy to him, and drew from him this emphatick exclamation--

'If there's a man, ye gods, I ought to hate,

Attendance and dependance be his fate!'

It soon occurred to Mr. Goodman in what manner it would best become him

to act towards this unhappy woman; and also what conditions ought to be

stipulated on her part. He had been told, both by the lawyer and the two

Mr. Thoughtlesses, that it was his late uncle's intention that she

should not be left without a decent provision; and being willing to

conform, as much as possible, to all the desires of a person whom he had

always esteemed as a parent, he passed by the injury which, since his

death, she had attempted to do to himself; and, within the time he had

mentioned to Miss Flora, wrote an answer to the request in the following

terms.

'To Lady Mellasin Goodman.

Madam,

Though you cannot but be sensible that your late base attempt to

invalidate my dear uncle's will, excludes you from receiving any

benefit from it; yet, as I am determined, as far as in my power, to

make the example of that excellent man the rule of all my actions,

I shall not carry my resentment, for the injustice you have done

me, beyond what he expressed for those much greater injuries he

sustained by your infidelity and ingratitude. It was not his

intention you should starve; nor is it my desire you should do so.

I am willing, Madam, to allow you a pension of one hundred pounds

per annum, to be quarterly paid into whose hands soever you shall

think fit to appoint for that purpose; but it must be on condition

that you retire forthwith, and pass the whole remainder of your

days in some remote part of the kingdom. The farther you remove

from a town where your ill conduct has rendered you so obnoxious,

the better.

This, Madam, is what I insist upon; and is, indeed, no more than

what your own safety demands from you. A very strict search is

making after your accomplices; and if they, or any of them, shall

happen to be found, it will be in vain for you to flatter yourself

with escaping that punishment which the offended laws inflict on

crimes of this nature: nor would it be in my power to shield you

from that fate which even the meanest and most abject of those

concerned with you must suffer.

As I should be extremely sorry to see this, I beg you, for your own

sake, to be speedy in your resolution, which, as soon as you inform

me, I shall act accordingly. I am, yours, &c.

E. GOODMAN.'

This he ordered to be delivered to any one who should say they came from

Lady Mellasin; and Mrs. Prinks accordingly received it.

Lady Mellasin, in the miserable circumstances to which she had reduced

herself, was transported to find she should not be entirely without

support. As for her being obliged to quit London, she was not in the

least shocked at it, as there was no possibility for her even to appear

publickly in it; and she was rather desirous, than averse, to be out of

a place which could no longer afford her those pleasures and amusements

she had once so much indulged herself in the enjoyment of.

But when she considered on her banishment, and ran over in her mind what

part of England she should make choice of for her asylum, the whole

kingdom appeared a desert to her, when driven from the gaieties of the

court and capital: she therefore resolved to go farther, and enter into

a new scene of life, which might be more likely to obliterate the memory

of the former. She had heard much talk of Jamaica--that it was a rich

and opulent place--that the inhabitants thought of little else but how

to divert themselves in the best manner the country afforded, and that

they were not too strict in their notions either as to honour or

religion--that reputation was a thing littler regarded among them: so

that, in case the occasion that had brought her thither should happen to

be discovered, she would not find herself in the less estimation.

She, therefore, hesitated not to write a second letter to Mr. Goodman,

acquainting him with her desire to go to that plantation; and hinting to

him that, if it would be giving him too great a trouble to remit the

quarterly payments he mentioned, she should take it as a particular

favour if he would be pleased to bestow on her such a sum as he should

think proper, in lieu of the annuity he had offered.

Mr. Goodman was extremely pleased with this proposal; and several

letters having passed between them concerning the conditions, he agreed

to give her two hundred pounds in specie, to provide herself with

sufficient necessaries for the voyage, and eight hundred more to be

deposited in the hands of the captain of the ship, to be paid on her

arrival; with which she appeared very well satisfied, and gave him the

most solemn assurances never to trouble him again.

But Miss Flora was all distraction at this event: the thoughts of

leaving dear London were equally irksome to her with those of death

itself. Fain would she have staid behind; but what could she do? Without

reputation--without friends--without money--there was no remedy but to

share her mother's fortune. Mrs. Prinks also, who, by living so long

with Lady Mellasin, known to be in all her secrets, and agent in her

iniquitous proceedings, could have no character to recommend her to any

other service, continued with the only person she, indeed, was fit to

live with; and they all embarked together on board a ship that was then

ready to sail.

All Mr. Goodman's friends congratulated him on the service he had done

his country, in ridding it of three persons who, by perverting the

talents Heaven had bestowed upon them, to the most vile purpose, were

capable of doing the greatest mischiefs to the more innocent and unwary.

It was on this occasion that he made the invitation before-mentioned.

The History of Miss Betsy Thoughtless · 第 9 / 24 章