_Contains such things as will be pleasing to those whose candid
dispositions interest them in favour of the heroine of this history_
Nothing so much encourages an unwarrantable passion for a married woman,
as to know she has a husband regardless of her charms. A young gay
gentleman, a companion of Mr. Munden's, privy to most of his secrets,
and partner with him in many a debauch, had seen Mrs. Munden at Miss
Airish's, where she still continued to visit. He had entertained a kind
of roving flame for her, which his friendship for her husband could not
prevent him from wishing to gratify; but, though they often met, he
never could get an opportunity of declaring himself: all he could do was
sometimes to whisper in her ear that she was divinely handsome--that he
adored her--and that he died for her--and such like stuff; which she was
too often accustomed to hear to take much notice of.
The indifferent opinion which most men of pleasure, or, in other words,
genteel rakes of the town, have of women in general, joined to the too
great gaiety he had observed in Mrs. Munden's behaviour, made him
imagine there required little more for the gaining her than the making
his addresses to her. The means of speaking to her in private seemed to
him the sole difficulty he had to get over: and, in order to do so, he
wrote to her in the following terms.
'To Mrs. Munden.
Madam,
A fine woman would reap little advantage from the charms she is
mistress of, if confined to the languid embraces of a single
possesser. Marriage takes off the poignancy of desire: a man has
no relish for beauties that are always the same, and always in his
power; those endearments generally make his happiness become
disgustful to him by being his duty; and he naturally flies to seek
joys yet untasted, in the arms of others. This, fair angel, is the
case with us all--you have too much good-sense not to know it, or
to expect your husband should vary from his sex in this particular.
Let those unhappy women, therefore, to whom nature has been niggard
of her bounties, pine in an abandoned bed. You are formed to give
and to receive the most unbounded joys of love--to bless and to be
blest with the utmost profusion of extasies unspeakable.
To tell you how infinitely I adore you, and how much I have
languished for an opportunity of declaring my passion, would
require a volume instead of a letter: besides, my pen would but
faintly express the sentiments of my soul--they will have more
energy when whispered in your ear. I know such a thing is
impossible at your own house, or at any of those where you visit.
Favour me, then, I beseech you, with taking a little walk in the
Privy Garden near the water-side, to-morrow about eleven; from
which place, if my person and passion be not altogether
disagreeable to you, we may adjourn to some other, where I may give
you more substantial demonstrations how much I am, with the utmost
sincerity, dear Madam, your eternally devoted, and most faithful
admirer.
P.S. I do not sign my name for fear of accidents; but flatter
myself my eyes have already said enough to inform you who I am.'
If this letter had come but a very small time before it did, it is
possible that, though Mrs. Munden would even then have been highly
offended at the presumption, yet her vanity and curiosity might have
excited her to give the meeting required in it by the author; though it
had only been, as she would then have imagined, merely to see who he
was, and laugh at his stupidity for addressing her in that manner.
Not but she had some distant guess at the person; but whether it was
him, or any other, who had taken this liberty, she now gave herself not
the least concern: she was only desirous to put an entire stop to those
audacious hopes she found he had entertained, and to keep herself from
receiving any future solicitations, from the same quarter at least.
To send back his letter without any other token of her resentment and
disdain at the contents, she thought would not be sufficient; and her
ready wit, after a little pause, presented her with a method more
efficacious. It was this.
She folded up the epistle in the same fashion it was when she received
it, and inclosed it in another piece of paper; in which she wrote these
lines.
'Sir,
As I cannot think any man would be weak enough to dictate an
epistle of this nature to the wife of Mr. Munden, I must suppose
you made some mistake in the direction, and sent that to me which
was intended for some other woman, whose character it might better
agree with.
I must intreat you, however, to be more careful for the future; for
if any such impertinence should a second time arise, I shall think
myself obliged to make a confidante of my husband, whose good-sense
and penetration will, doubtless, enable him to discover the author,
and his spirit and courage instruct him in what manner to resent
the affront offered to his ever-faithful, and most affectionate
wife,
B. MUNDEN.'
This had all the effect she wished it should have--the beau was ashamed
of the fruitless attack he had made--wrote to her no more--avoided her
sight as much as possible--and, whenever chance brought him into her
company, behaved towards her with all the distance and respect
imaginable.
This lady, now fully convinced how dangerous it was to be too much
admired for her external charms, ceased even to wish they should be
taken notice of; and set herself seriously about improving those
perfections of the mind which she was sensible could alone entitle her
to the esteem of the virtuous and the wife.
Mr. Munden, who had never been disquieted at the former part of his
wife's behaviour, was equally insensible of this alteration in her: his
cares, indeed, were too much taken up for re-establishing himself with
his right honourable patron, to give any attention to what passed at
home.
After much debating with himself, he thought it best to proceed so as
not to let the noble lord imagine he was acquainted with any part of the
attempt made upon his wife; but, though he attended his levee as usual,
and seemed rather more obsequious than ever, he had the mortification
to find himself very coolly received. He stood undistinguished in the
circle which constantly waited the motions of that great man--was
scarcely spoken to by him, and then with a kind of indrawn reserve,
which made him justly enough apprehensive that he had little now to hope
for from him.
The truth is, he saw through the policy of this dependant--he could not
doubt but Mrs. Munden had told him of the violence he had offered to
her--he was conscious of the baseness of it; but he was not angry with
himself for it, though with the person he would have injured; and could
not forgive him for the knowledge of his crime, though the other was
willing to forgive the crime itself.
The treatment he received at Lord ----'s made him extremely churlish to
his wife; he looked upon her as the primary cause of his misfortune,
cursed his marriage with her, and even hated her for the beauties and
good qualities which should have endeared her to him. Nothing she could
say or do had the power of pleasing him; so that she stood in need of
all her courage and fortitude to enable her to support, with any
tolerable degree of patience, the usage she received.
To heighten her misfortune, the late levity of her temper had hindered
her from cultivating an acquaintance with any one person, on whose
secrecy, sincerity, and sedateness, she could enough depend for the
disburdening her mind of those vexations with which it was sometimes
overwhelmed.
But this was a matter of disquiet to her which she had not long to
complain of. Heaven sent her a consolation of which she had not the
least distant expectation, and restored her to a friend, by whom she had
thought herself utterly forsaken, and whom she had not herself scarce
thought of for a long time.
Lady Loveit was now but just returned from the country, where she had
continued ever since her marriage to Sir Bazil. A famous French milliner
being lately arrived from Paris with abundance of curiosities, her
ladyship went to see if there was any thing she should think worth the
purchasing. Mrs. Munden was led by the same curiosity; and it was at
this woman's house that these ladies happened to meet after so long an
absence from each other.
Mrs. Munden was a little confused at first sight of her, as bringing to
her mind some passages which it was never in her power to think on with
the indifference she wished to do. They embraced, however, with a great
deal of affection--made each other the usual compliments on the mutual
change of their condition; for Lady Loveit, by some accident, had heard
of Mrs. Munden's marriage.
Though both these ladies were much more taken up with each other than
with examining the trifles they came to see, yet neither of them would
quit the shop without becoming customers. Lady Loveit perceiving that
Mrs. Munden had neither coach nor chair at the door, after having asked
what part of town she lived in, and finding it was not too much out of
her way, desired she would give her leave to set her down in her
chariot.
Mrs. Munden readily accepted the offer; and, being come to the door of
her house, would have persuaded Lady Loveit to alight and come in: but
she excused herself; and, at the same time, gave her a pressing
invitation to her house as soon as an opportunity permitted. 'I know,
Madam,' said she, smiling, 'that it is my duty to pay the first visit to
your ladyship--yet, as you are here--' 'I should not stand on that
punctilio with you,' interrupted Lady Loveit, with the same good-humour;
'but I expect company at home; and I know not but that they already wait
for me.' The other then told her she would do herself the favour to
attend her ladyship in a day or two: and this was all that passed at
this first interview.
Mrs. Munden was extremely rejoiced at the opportunity of renewing her
acquaintance with this lady; in which she had not the least room to
doubt but that she should find what she so much wanted, a faithful
adviser and an agreeable companion. They had always loved each
other--there was a great parity of sentiment and principle between them;
and as nothing but their different ways of thinking, in point of conduct
towards the men, had hindered them from becoming inseparable friends,
that bar being removed by Mrs. Munden's change of temper, and her being
now what Lady Loveit always was, no other remained to keep them from
communicating their thoughts with the utmost freedom to each other.
The visit promised by Mrs. Munden was not delayed beyond the time she
mentioned. Lady Loveit received her without the least reserve; and they
soon entered into conversation with the same sprightliness as before the
change of their conditions.
Mrs. Munden had resolved within her self not to make the least mention
of Mr. Trueworth's name; but feeling, notwithstanding, a good deal of
impatience to hear something of him, artfully entered into a discourse
which she knew must draw the other in to say something concerning him.
'I need not ask,' said she, 'how you liked the country; it is pretty
plain, from your continuing there such a length of time, that you found
more pleasures at Sir Bazil's seat than any you had left behind.'--'The
house is well situated, indeed,' replied Lady Loveit; 'yet I have passed
the least part of my time there since I left London; nor have we staid
away so long entirely through choice, but have in a manner been detained
by a succession of accidents altogether unforeseen.
'It took up six weeks,' continued she, 'to receive the visits which were
every day crowded upon us from all parts of the country. This hurry
being over, we could do no less than accompany Mr. Wellair and his lady,
who had been with us all this while, to their house, where we staid
about a fortnight; after which, Sir Bazil having promised my brother and
sister Trueworth to pass some time with them in Oxfordshire, we crossed
the country to that gentleman's fine seat; where, you may suppose, his
arrival was welcomed in much the same manner Sir Bazil's had been in
Staffordshire. Besides all his relations, intimate friends, tenants, and
dependants, I believe there was scarce a gentleman or lady, twenty miles
round, who did not come to congratulate him on his marriage and return.
'For the reception of those guests,' went she still on, 'the generous
Mr. Trueworth omitted nothing that might testify his joy on the occasion
of their coming. Feasting employed their days, and balls their nights.
But, alas! in the midst of these variegated scenes of pleasure, death,
sudden death! snatched away the source of all our joys, and turned the
face of gladness into the most poignant grief.'
'Death! did your ladyship say?' cried Mrs. Munden, with an extraordinary
emotion. 'Is, then, Mr. Trueworth dead?'--'No, Madam,' replied the
other, wiping away some tears which the memory of this fatal accident
drew from her eyes; 'Mr. Trueworth lives; and, I hope, will long do so,
to be an honour to his country, and a comfort to all those who are so
happy as to know him; for certainly there never was a man more endued
with qualities for universal good: but it was his wife, his amiable
wife, that died!'
'His wife!' cried Mrs. Munden, interrupting her a second time: 'is he
already a widower?'--'Too soon, indeed, he became so!' answered Lady
Loveit. 'Scarce three months were elapsed from that day which made her a
bride to that which made her a lifeless corpse: we were all together,
with some other company, one evening in the turret, which, by the help
of some large telescopes Mr. Trueworth had placed there, commands the
prospect of three counties at once, when my poor sister was seized
suddenly ill. As she was supposed to be pregnant, her complaint at first
was taken no other notice of than to occasion some pleasantries which
new-married women must expect to bear: but she soon grew visibly
worse--was obliged to be carried down stairs, and put directly into bed.
The next morning she discovered some symptoms of a fever; but it proved
no more than the forerunner of the small pox, of which distemper she
died before her danger was apprehended, even by the physician.'
'How I pity both the living and the dead!' said Mrs. Munden. 'Mr.
Trueworth, certainly, could not support so great a loss with any degree
of moderation?'--'The shock at first,' replied Lady Loveit, 'was as much
as all his philosophy and strength of reason could enable him to combat
with. Sir Bazil, though deeply affected for the loss of so amiable a
sister, was obliged to conceal his own sorrows, the better to allieviate
those he saw him in; and this kept us for two whole months at his house
after the ceremony of the funeral was over. We had then prevailed on him
to return with us to London; every thing was prepared for our departure,
when an unlucky accident happened to myself, which detained us for yet a
considerable time longer.
'We were diverting ourselves one day with angling,' continued she;
'when, in endeavouring to cast my rod at too great a distance, I stooped
so far over the bank, that I plunged all at once, head foremost, into
the water. The pond, it seems, was pretty deep; and I was in some
danger. Sir Bazil and Mr. Trueworth, seeing me fall, jumped in at the
same instant; and, by their assistance I was brought safe to shore. I
was immediately carried into the house, stripped of my wet garments, and
put into a warm bed: but the fright had so great an effect upon me, that
it caused an abortion, which, as I was then in the fifth month of my
pregnancy, had like to have proved fatal to me. I was close prisoner in
my chamber for several weeks; and, on my being just able to leave it,
was advised to have recourse first to the Bristol and then to the Bath
waters, for the better establishment of my health. Accordingly, we went
to both those places--staid as long at each as I found needful for the
purpose that brought me thither; and on my perfect recovery, Sir Bazil
having some business at his estate, returned to Staffordshire--made a
short excursion to Mrs. Wellair's, and then we bowled up to London.
'This,' added she, 'is the whole history of my eleven month's absence.
I should also have told you that we had not Mr. Trueworth's company in
our last ramble. One of the members for his county having vacated his
seat by accepting an employment, Mr. Trueworth was prevailed upon, by a
great number of gentlemen and freeholders, to oppose his being rechosen
by setting up for a candidate himself. The election was to come on in a
few days after our departure; and we have since heard that he succeeded
in his attempt.'
Lady Loveit having finished her long narrative, and received the
compliments of Mrs. Munden for the trouble she had given her, was
beginning to ask some questions concerning her own affairs; but some
ladies coming in, broke off, for the present, all conversation on this
head; and Mrs. Munden soon after took leave, though not without
receiving an assurance from the other of having her visit returned in a
short time.