ARISTOCRATIC CONNECTIONS.
Mrs. Courland, Frederick Morley's aunt, had been a celebrated beauty in
her youth. Her father, the Rev. Octavius Morley, was a scion of a high
family, with a small preferment; and his wife was also of aristocratic
birth. Too poor to put their only son, Alexander, into a leading branch
of one of the learned professions, and too proud to allow him to work
his way on as a merchant in England, they wisely sent him to India with
a friend, who soon put him into the way of making a rapid fortune; for
he possessed business talents of no ordinary kind, and steady and
persevering habits of industry. Having thus provided for their son,
their only care now was the education and marriage of their daughter,
who at nineteen was one of the loveliest girls that can possibly be
imagined. Rather above the middle height, elegant in form, and graceful
in all her movements, she attracted admirers wherever she went--very
much to the annoyance of her parents, who destined her either for one of
the aristocracy or for some rich Indian merchant. High birth, or riches,
were indispensable in the aspirant to Isabella Morley's hand; her heart
was left out of the question entirely by her honoured and honourable
parents. Not so by the young lady herself;--she had already fixed her
affections on a young officer, whom she had met at a ball to which she
had been taken by a lady friend with whom she had been staying in a
neighbouring town. He was the younger son of a country squire in an
adjoining county; but as he was neither rich nor noble, his alliance was
not deemed eligible by the aristocratic parents of Miss Morley, and they
therefore discouraged the intimacy, when they became aware of it,
although they did not positively forbid it; for they did not really
believe that a young man in his position--a lieutenant in a light
infantry regiment only, and the younger son of an obscure country
squire--would presume to approach the only daughter of such high-born
parents, except in the way of common politeness and courtesy. And,
besides, they placed implicit confidence in the lessons of ambition they
had taught their daughter; and therefore, having heard the rumour of
this flirtation in a casual way, and not knowing to what extent it had
already gone during her visit at Middleton, the young officer was
received with politeness when he called to enquire for the young lady,
after her return from her visit.
These calls were repeated again and again, and _têtes-à-têtes_ were
observed in the garden and shrubbery, and Mrs. Morley began to open her
eyes to the true state of things, when it was too late. Cupid had by
this time planted his arrow too deeply to be easily eradicated. The
gentleman was forbidden the house, and the young lady was kept in
strict seclusion for some time; but, "Love laughs at locksmiths,"--and
the two lovers managed to meet, notwithstanding the locks and bars.
Mrs. Morley's aristocratic notions could not be properly satisfied
without a lady's-maid, such as she had been accustomed to in her
father's house. But she soon found that a grand, high-and-mighty
lady's-maid, such as she and her sisters had been accustomed to at home,
would not put up with the inconvenience of a small vicarage-house in the
country, where a suitable number of servants could not be kept, and,
consequently, she was continually changing. This was both annoying and
expensive; so when her daughter left school, at seventeen, Mrs. Morley
hired a young woman whom they met with at a watering-place where they
happened to be rusticating that summer. She was the daughter of a
sailor, with whom they lodged; and Mrs. Morley found her so shrewd and
useful in most respects, that she pressed her mother to allow her to go
back with them in the capacity of double lady's-maid--to attend on
herself and daughter.
Miss Fisher was apparently bold enough, and certainly old enough, to
have decided for herself,--for she was upwards of thirty years of age;
but she had cunning enough to read Mrs. Morley's character, through and
through, and she knew that a seeming deference to her mother's opinion
would have great weight with her new mistress. The old woman did not
like to part with her, but she knew it would be useless to oppose it, as
she saw that her daughter had set her mind on accepting the situation,
and so she consented; and Mrs. Morley returned to the vicarage with a
lady's-maid to her mind, as she thought. Miss Fisher proved all she
could wish, yielding to her in everything, as she supposed; instead of
which, the new lady's-maid, while seeming to yield, and, indeed,
yielding sometimes, in smaller things, very soon gained such an
ascendancy over her mistress, that, by a little clever manoeuvring, she
could turn her any way she liked. Miss Morley was not so easily ruled;
nor did Miss Fisher seem to wish it,--she appeared to have taken a great
fancy to her young mistress, and would do almost anything to please her;
and many a scold and reprimand did she prevent by her tact and cunning.
Two years rolled over their heads, and Miss Fisher still acted in the
capacity of lady's-maid to both mother and daughter; and when the latter
received the invitation to pay a visit to her friend at Middleton, for
the express purpose of attending the ball which was about to take place
there, Mrs. Morley, in order that her daughter might be properly dressed
and taken care of, and also to display the aristocratic style of her
establishment, dispensed with the services of Miss Fisher for a time,
and allowed her to accompany Miss Morley to her friend's house. They
were more like companions than mistress and maid; for Miss Morley
confided all her little secrets to Miss Fisher, and she was therefore,
of course, made acquainted with the attentions of the young officer; and
as Miss Fisher highly approved of his person and manners, and the pretty
presents he occasionally gave her, she determined on favouring the
lovers, and doing all in her power to assist them,--so that clandestine
meetings were easy, although the young officer was forbidden the house,
and the young lady was under close confinement indoors. She was
beginning to exhibit signs of ill health, from the close confinement and
anxiety to which she was subject, and Miss Fisher suggested change of
air and scene. She was in the confidence of Mrs. Morley, who relied on
her, and believed all she told her. The young officer's regiment was
ordered abroad, she said, and therefore there could be no danger in that
quarter. This Mrs. Morley knew to be true, for her husband had been
making enquiries. Miss Fisher, however, managed to deceive her mistress
as to the time, telling her he was to sail immediately, and begging to
be allowed to take Miss Morley home to her father's house for a short
time, as she wanted to see the old people, and she thought the sea-air
would quite restore her young mistress's health, and the change of scene
might cause her to forget this foolish love-affair. So said the
designing Miss Fisher; and the pair went to old Mr. Fisher's house,
there to reside in strict seclusion, and luxuriate in country-walks and
sea-breezes. But, strange to say, they had not been there many hours,
before the young officer made his appearance there also, and the bloom
of health soon returned to the cheeks of the young lady, without the aid
of the sea-breezes--although they were often felt, as the two lovers
took their delightful walks over the rocks and along the cliffs. Lieut.
Marshall's time was nearly up; but a few more days remained before he
would be obliged to leave her he loved so much. He could not bear the
thought;--he was going to the battle-field, and might never see her
more; or, if he lived to return, he might find her the bride of another.
"Never! never!" replied Miss Morley; "I will never be another's bride. I
am pledged and bound to you, dear James, by a sacred oath; I will die
rather than break my vow. Yours, and yours only, till death parts us."
"I fully believe and trust in your good intentions, dearest Isabella,"
said he; "but, should a rich man offer himself, you will be compelled to
break that vow, made only to me. Let us bind ourselves before the altar,
dearest; then nothing can sever us."
Thus did he reason with the fair girl, and persuade her, when she had no
one to guide her aright; and so ably was the young officer supported in
his arguments, by the artful Miss Fisher, that they were married, and,
within a week after, were separated--perhaps never to meet again.
Miss Morley (now Mrs. Marshall) returned to her father's house with a
heavy secret in her breast--one that she could not reveal. Letters came,
through Miss Fisher, which cheered her. Months rolled on. Her husband's
name was seen sometimes in the newspapers, and commented on by her
parents, little thinking how near and dear he was to her whom they
imagined cured of that foolish love-affair.
At last there came an account of a great battle, and, amongst the list
of killed, was the name of Lieut. James Marshall. The shock was
terrible. Luckily there was no one in the room at the time but Miss
Fisher, who immediately rang for assistance, and took her to her room.
She was confined to her bed for several days; and when she got a little
better, Miss Fisher prevailed on Mrs. Morley to allow her daughter to
try change of air and sea-breezes again, as they had been so beneficial
before. So they went once more to old Fisher's house, by the seaside,
where she stayed several months, keeping up a continual and cheerful
correspondence with her parents, who were so pleased with her apparent
recovery, that the visit was prolonged, week after week, and month after
month. At last a letter came, peremptorily requesting her to return at
once, for reasons that would be explained when she arrived.
Old Mrs. Fisher had died during her stay with them, so that Miss Fisher
felt bound now, she said, to remain with her father, who did not like
being left alone, although he was a strong able man yet, and did
something in the seafaring line beyond fishing--but what it was Miss
Morley (now Mrs. Marshall) could not make out;--they were very secret
about that. About this time also Miss Fisher's only brother, of whom she
had often spoken to her young mistress, returned, after a long absence.
He was a handsome young man, and was much struck with the beauty of
their visitor, and, not knowing at first her position, he began to pay
her marked attention. This did not suit Miss Fisher's plans, nor was it
at all agreeable to Mrs. Marshall. She therefore determined to leave at
once, although she was not quite recovered, and would be obliged to
trust to the safe keeping of Miss Fisher a secret which, if revealed,
would probably cause her parents to cast her off for ever. At first, and
before she was so completely in her power, she had placed the utmost
confidence in the fidelity of her maid; but during her last visit to the
old fisherman's cottage, her attendant's character had displayed itself
in its true colours. She now saw that Miss Fisher was working entirely
to suit her own wicked ends, and that her secret would only be safe,
while she could supply that wicked woman with funds sufficient to
satisfy her avarice. Mrs. Marshall was surprised and shocked at the
sudden change which she observed in Miss Fisher's manner towards her,
and could not account for it in any way, as she had always hitherto been
so kind. It was not Miss Fisher's fault, however, entirely; for the idea
of making money out of their too confiding visitor, was suggested by
the brother. He was piqued at her indignant rejection of his attentions,
and, having wormed the secret out of his sister, he suggested the plan
which she was only too ready to carry out. She now saw the advantages to
be derived from having this beautiful woman so completely in her power;
for she was quite sure that ere long her parents would insist on her
marrying some rich man;--she knew that their hearts were bent on this,
and there was nothing now to prevent it, except the opposition of the
young lady herself, whom Miss Fisher well knew now how to overcome.
When Mrs. Marshall returned, she found that her father had become
acquainted with the captain of an East-Indiaman, who brought letters of
introduction from her brother. He was about forty years of age,--not
very prepossessing in appearance, nor gentlemanly in manners, but he was
rich, very rich, her brother said. So here was a husband for Isabella,
to whom Mr. and Mrs. Morley did not object--quite the contrary.
The captain was much struck with the beauty of Miss Morley (as she was,
of course, still called at home), who looked more lovely than ever since
her last illness. The rough captain paid her most devoted attention, and
it was evident that he had fallen desperately in love with her.
Her parents and all her friends persuaded, and even urged, her to accept
Capt. Courland's offer; and Miss Fisher urged it also most strongly, for
many reasons. Having lost her first love, Miss Fisher said, she thought
she ought to make a sacrifice now, to atone for her disobedience to her
parents in her first marriage.
Money was a great consideration too--very great--to Mrs. Marshall
now,--why, we need not enquire. Ladies are not exempt from that passion
any more than men. She was a long time bringing her mind to the point,
but she did consent at last. She stipulated, however, for a very
handsome allowance as pin-money, to do what she liked with, and a
liberal jointure in case of the death of her husband. This made him
think odd things. "_A liberal jointure, in case of his death_," was an
awkward clause to be suggested by a young bride. However, this made him
think she was a good woman of business, and that he should have more
than beauty in his wife, after all. So they were married. And he went
his voyages as usual, and returned to his lovely wife every nine or ten
months, and spent a few months with her, and then off again, leaving
plenty of pin-money behind, and a most liberal allowance for maintaining
a large establishment.
Capt. Courland was very intimate with his wife's brother, Mr. Alexander
Morley, the Indian merchant, and brought him to England when he came
over with the two children, and took him back again, after that dreadful
murder and false accusation.
Mrs. Courland seemed to feel it more than anyone. She had now been
married to Capt. Courland, some three or four years, and he treated her
with the greatest kindness and liberality; but still she seemed unhappy.
She appeared not to have got over the loss of her first love,--something
seemed preying on her mind always. While her husband was at home, she
strove against this melancholy feeling, and exerted herself to the
utmost to return his kindness; and he, knowing nothing of the former
love-affair, and seeing her only at her brightest, when she did violence
to her feelings to please him, during the short time he remained at
home, was happy in possession and love, as he believed, of his beautiful
wife.
It was a relief and a comfort to her to have her little niece, Julia
Morley, with her. The superintendence of her infant education (for the
little girl was then but five years old) amused her, and relieved her
mind from other thoughts. And when she was old enough to go to school,
she removed into a town with her, and took a house there that she might
keep her still under her own eye, and sent her to a boarding-school, as
a day-pupil, attended by a servant; and here Julia became acquainted
with Alrina Freeman, and they became bosom friends, as schoolfellows;
but Alrina was not permitted to visit or leave the school at all. These
injunctions were strictly laid down by her aunt, when she placed her at
school; and Mrs. Horton, who was a strict disciplinarian, carried out
her orders to the very letter.