The next day I dined with Julia, Fanny was of the party. Julia was
raving about Sir Henry Mildmay, by whom she professed to be pregnant.
The shy Julia gloried in this _faux pas_.
"What mortal could have resisted such an angel!" exclaimed Julia.
"And Cotton?" added I.
"By your advice," replied Julia, "I have refused to receive him but as a
friend."
"Certainly," said I; "I do think it wicked to put ourselves in the way
of increasing a large family of children, only to starve them. You are
the mother of six already, which is five more than your slender fortune
can support."
"I shall have seven thousand a year at the death of my brother, who is
in a decline," said Julia, whose eyes were very red as though she had
been weeping.
To my inquiry, "What was the matter?" Fanny answered, "That the foolish
creature had done nothing but shed tears from morning till night."
"If I could only once more have Mildmay in my arms," said Julia, "I
should have lived long enough."
"And who is to protect Mildmay's child?" I asked.
"I would rather die than apply to him for money," answered Julia; "but
my poor child will never see the light," and she burst into tears,
"unless I see its beautiful father once more."
"Will once do?" I asked.
"I would be patient and resigned if I could kiss his heavenly eyes once
more."
"_Et puis?_" said Fanny.
"_Sans doute! ça va sans dire_," added Julia.
"_Pas toujours_," I remarked however, giving my hand to Julia, "there is
my hand on it, it shall be done, ma'am, and before this week is out, we
pledge to you our royal word!"
Strange to say, this promise satisfied Julia, who immediately dried up
her tears.
After dinner, a young member of Parliament, of immense fortune, brought
his carriage for Fanny. He was a Hampshire gentleman, of the name of
Napier, who had been lately very attentive to her; but Fanny did not
like him. He was a long-backed youth, with very fine eyes, and that was
all: a sort of home-bred young man, not ungentlemanlike but wanting tact
and spirit.
Soon after his arrival Fanny took me out of the room and asked me how I
liked him.
"Oh! not in the least," I answered.
"I wish," said Fanny, "he would attach himself to poor Julia: her
children and her debts and her natural turn for extravagance will send
her to a prison, unless a rich man like this would take her under his
protection. Now, as I am determined not to have him myself I have left
them together, that he may draw her into conversation, and find out the
truth of her being one of the most elegant women in England."
"You are very good," said I, laughing.
"What else can be done?" Fanny asked. "If Julia goes to prison, she will
immediately destroy herself; and how easily this Napier, who has more
than twenty thousand a year, can assist her and pay off all her debts,
seeing that he lives on three thousand, and possesses in hard cash at
his banker's more than a hundred thousand pounds."
"Oh! the vile, stingy monster!" said I, "where did he spring from?"
"From Oxford College," answered Fanny; "but his estates are in Ireland."
When we returned to the drawing-room, Napier did seem to have fallen
in love with Julia's manner, and to be delighted with her conversation.
However, he soon placed himself by Fanny's side, to make as much love as
usual. "This is very poor sort of amusement for me, ladies," said I, "so
I shall wish you all a very good night."
Fanny declared that she would accompany me.
Napier called her a coquette, and a false deceiver, reminding her of her
promise to allow him to see her home.
"Cannot help it," answered Fanny, kissing her hand to him, and hurrying
downstairs.
Napier offered me his arm, to follow, and Julia held up her finger
significantly to me, saying, "Remember."
"_Oui, oui_," was my reply; and, after Napier had handed us into our
carriage, we requested him to return and chat with Julia. "A niece of
Lord Carysfort," added I, "daughter to a maid of honour, the Honourable
Mrs. Storer, and the most graceful creature breathing."
"Why," said Fanny, bursting out into a loud laugh, "Harriette, that
madman with his placard and his challenge to all the world about
Bayley's blacking, in Piccadilly, is a fool to you."
"Never mind," I answered, "so that we can but get her off, and save her
from a prison."
Before the carriage drove from the door, we had the satisfaction of
seeing Napier return to Julia--_et puis--et puis_--but I will tell what
happened some other time.
On our way home Fanny told me how irregularly her allowance from the
late Mr. Woodcock was paid, and that her boy George's schoolmaster had
been dunning her for money due to him, which she could not pay.
"How good you are then," said I, "to make over your rich conquest to
Julia."
"There is no goodness in that," answered Fanny, whose heart was so very
warm, that she was always afraid of incurring ridicule from the extreme
of a good thing; "for if Julia had never been born I am sure I could not
have endured that long-backed, amorous-looking Napier; besides every one
must pity poor Julia, deserted as she is!"
"But then this stupid Mildmay, whose character was so well known to
her! what had she to expect from him, who has never in his life been
suspected of constancy for a single week!"
"And yet," said Fanny, "I really, myself, believed he loved Julia. You
have no idea how attentive he had been to her during your last illness,
from which, thank God! you are happily recovering," added Fanny. "I have
not seen you look so like yourself for the last twelve months."
"I am better," answered I, "and yet, life is dull without affection,
and all my bright illusions are destroyed for ever; but I have most
pleasure now when I can make myself a little useful; so you must let me
take George off your hands. I am richer than you are, I will therefore
pay his schoolmaster, and you must send him to me to-morrow. When his
holidays are expired, I will myself take him back to school."
Fanny said I was very good, and I answered "fiddlestick!" as I set her
down at her own house.
* * * * *
My mind was now a complete blank. My imagination was exhausted; my
castle had fallen to the ground and I never expected to rebuild it; for
even my cool judgment told me that Ponsonbys were not often to be met
with.
I had no fancy for going down hill, so I bought a great many books and
determined to make them my object. I lived very retired, and when I did
go out or admit company it was more because I was teased into it than
from any pleasure I found in society.
Little George Woodcock came to me the next morning, and before the
week was out he had broken open my jewel-box, stolen my money, kissed
my housemaid, and half-killed my footman. I looked forward with much
anxiety to the period for taking him back to school. His schoolmaster
was an old Frenchman who lived at Leytonstone. Julia's three sons and my
nephew had boarded with him four years.
"Mastaire Johnstones know very vell," said the old Frenchman, when,
at the beginning of the holidays, he had called on Fanny to make his
compliments of her son and heir, "de young Mastaire Johnstones know very
well, dat I always tell de boys dat dey must larne; but for Mastaire
Woodcock, it is de boy of my school! Some time I lose him six, seven
hours, and, at last, I find him at de top of von apple-tree! Den as for
boxing, he is box! box! two, tree, six time in a day. I believe very
soon, he will box me!"
Fanny promised to give him good advice, and the old French schoolmaster
took his leave, after declaring that if young Woodcock continued to
be de boy of his school for the next quarter, he must be under the
necessity to turn him out of it.
Luttrell called on me the following day, and was greatly amused with the
engagement which I told him I had entered into with Julia. He informed
me that Fred Lamb was arrived from the court of somewhere, I think
Sicily, and had expressed a very strong desire to be allowed to visit me.
"Tell him," said I, "that I am worn out, and tired of the world, and
good for nothing."
Luttrell, being our father-confessor general, to whom we all related
everything, I asked him if he knew how Napier's _tête-à-tête_ with Julia
went off.
"Oh, I have just left the enemy," answered Luttrell, alluding to Amy,
"who told me that Napier had made a violent attack on the virtue of Lord
Carysfort's niece, in consequence of my flourishing panegyric, which had
only served to prove her adamant to all but Sir Henry Mildmay."
"Apropos of that gay baronet," said I, opening my writing desk, "such
virtue as you describe in this fair daughter of a maid of honour must
not go unrewarded;" and I wrote a polite note to Mildmay, desiring him
to call upon me in the evening.
Soon after Luttrell had taken his leave, old Smith the haberdasher was
announced, with more returned bills.
"Angels defend us!" said I, "what am I to say to him this time?" I
looked in the glass, settled my headdress as becomingly as possible, and
trusted to my charms and soft speeches for subduing his anger as usual.
As I entered I caught a full view of my friend Smith in the glass; he
was pacing the room with sturdy firmness, as though preparing himself
for a desperate attack. His brow was knit, and, in his hand he held the
fatal black pocket-book which I had no doubt contained my bills, six
or seven times returned on his hands. "_Avec tout mon savoir faire,
je craignais de ratter le procureur_," as Laura says in _Gil Blas_;
I therefore returned to my bedroom unseen, and desired my faithful
housekeeper, Mrs. Kennedy, to declare that her mistress had been seized
with a fit on her way downstairs, and that, during the last attack of
this sort, with which she had been afflicted, she had actually bitten
her nurse's thumb clean off.
"Will you like to step up and see her?" added Kennedy.
"No, no, I thank you," answered Smith, putting on a pair of his thickest
beaver gloves as though to defend his thumbs. "Some other time if you
please. My compliments:" and he was hurrying away.
"You will oblige me by stepping upstairs," said Kennedy, "as I really
am frightened out of my wits; and Miss Wilson requires at least three
persons to hold her when in these fits, and our William is just gone out
with a letter to Sir Henry Mildmay's."
"Very sorry to hear it," replied Smith running downstairs. "I regret
that I have such a particular engagement that I cannot stay another
instant," and he immediately gained the street-door, which he took care
to fasten safely, as soon as he was on what he now conceived the right
side of it.
In the evening, Mildmay arrived at the hour I had appointed, believing
no doubt, that the poor tender soul, Harriette Wilson, would not survive
his neglect. He was proceeding in a very summary way to practical
love-making----
"_Attendez, un instant, mon ange!_" said I. "I am Julia's friend;
besides, I have no opinion of you."
"In what way?"
"In the way you wish to shine! I believe you to be cold, and I hate cold
men."
"Try me," answered Mildmay.
"_Je ne demande pas mieux_. Give me the proof I am going to ask, of your
real genuine ardour, and I shall hereafter look up to you as something
superior to the rest of mankind."
"Explain!" said Sir Henry.
"Well then, there is Julia, of whom I know you are completely tired.
Only enable her to praise you to me to-morrow evening, and I think I
shall not be able to resist you."
"Will you promise?" Mildmay asked.
"What is the use of a promise to such a beautiful creature as you, who
know yourself to be irresistible."
Mildmay looked pleased. I made him sing to me; and I must really have
been very deficient in good taste if I had not expressed my admiration
of the sweetness of his voice and expression. When I had completely
flattered and praised him into excellent temper, I made him promise to
visit Julia by two the next day.
"Shall I find you there?" Mildmay inquired, "and will you give me a
kiss? otherwise, upon my honour, with the best possible intention to
distinguish myself I am afraid."
"Perhaps," said I, "you may find me with her; but at all events
recollect that you did like poor Julia, and that I never to the day
of my death will forgive you or speak to you if you do not fulfil your
promise to-morrow morning."
"You treat me very ill," said Mildmay, "and yet, I suppose, you must
be obliged. Only mind you must promise me there shall not be a scene
between Julia and me. I cannot stand scenes, remember!"
"I was in hopes there would be act the fourth," retorted I; "but,
seriously, what do you understand by a scene?"
"Reproaches and hysterics, and all that sort of thing," answered
Mildmay. "Do tell Julia it will be of no use, but to spoil the moment,
there is a dear creature."
"Poor Julia!" I retorted. "Only recollect her situation, and pray, if
you ever wish me to admire or like you do not be so very unfeeling."
"Yes, I have heard all, and a pretty piece of business it is
altogether," said Mildmay, evidently much annoyed by it.
I refused to part with him till he had most faithfully promised
punctually at two the next morning. As soon as he was gone I despatched
the following note;
"DEAR JULIA,--"Sir H. Mildmay has this morning given me his
word and honour, on pain of my everlasting displeasure, that
he will attend your moderate commands to-morrow exactly at two
o'clock, on condition that you do not give him a scene. Make my
excuses to him for not joining you both. I dislike to be second
fiddle of all things.
"God bless you."