Читать книгу The History of Miss Betsy Thoughtless - Eliza Haywood - Страница 8

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Contains nothing very extraordinary, yet such things as are highly proper to be known

I think it is generally allowed that there are few emotions of the mind more uneasy than suspense. Not the extreme youth of Miss Betsy, not all her natural cheerfulness, nor her perfect indifference for the son of Alderman Saving, could enable her to throw off the vexation in which his late behaviour had involved her: had the motive been the most mortifying of any that could be imagined to her vanity, pride and resentment would then have come to her assistance; she would have despised the author of the insult, and in time have forgot the insult itself; but the uncertainty in what manner she ought to think of the man, and this last action of his, made both dwell much longer on her mind than otherwise they would have done. As the poet truly says—

'When puzzling doubts the anxious bosom seize,

To know the worst, is some degree of ease.'

This is a maxim which will hold good, even when the strongest and most violent passions operate; but Miss Betsy was possessed of no more than a bare curiosity, which as she had as yet no other sensation that demanded gratification, was sufficiently painful to her.

It was about ten or twelve days that she continued to labour under this dilemma; but, at the expiration of that time, was partly relieved from it by the following means.

Mr. Goodman, happening to meet Alderman Saving, with whom he had great business, upon Change, desired he would accompany him to an adjacent tavern; to which the other complied, but with an air much more grave and reserved than he was accustomed to put on with a person whom he had known for a great number of years, and was concerned with in some affairs of traffick, they went together to the Ship Tavern.

After having ended what they had to say to each other upon business—'Mr. Goodman,' said the alderman, 'we have long been friends; I always thought you an honest, fair-dealing man, and am therefore very much surprized you should go about to put upon me in the manner you have lately done.'—'Put upon you, Sir!' cried the merchant; 'I know not what you mean; and am very certain I never did any thing that might call in question my integrity, either to you or to any one else.'—'It was great integrity, indeed!' resumed the alderman, with a sneer, 'to endeavour to draw my only son into a clandestine marriage with the girl you have at your house.' Mr. Goodman was astonished, as well he might, at this accusation; and perceiving, by some other words that the alderman let fall, that he was well acquainted with the love young Saving had professed for Miss Betsy, frankly related to him all that he knew of the courtship, and the method he had taken to put a stop to it. 'That was not enough, Sir,' cried the alderman, hastily; 'you should have told me of it. Do you think young folks, like them, would have regarded your forbidding? No, no! I'll warrant you they would have found some way or other to come together before now; and the boy might have been ruined, if I had not been informed by other hands how things were carried on, and put it out of the power of any of you to impose upon me. The girl may spread her nets to catch some other woodcock, if she can. Thanks to Heaven, and my own prudence, my son is far enough out of her reach!'

Mr. Goodman, though one of the best-natured men in the world, could not keep himself from being a little ruffled at the alderman's discourse; and told him, that though he had been far from encouraging Mr. Saving's inclinations, and should always think it the duty of a son to consult his father in every thing he did, especially in so material a point as that of marriage, yet he saw no reason for treating Miss Betsy with contempt, as she was of a good family, had a very pretty fortune of her own, and suitable accomplishments.

'You take a great deal of pains to set her off,' said the alderman; 'and since you married a court-lady not worth a groat, have got all the romantick idle notions of the other end of the town as finely as if you had been bred there. A good family!—Very pleasant, i'faith. Will a good family go to market? Will it buy a joint of mutton at the butcher's, or a pretty gown at the mercer's?—Then, a pretty fortune! you say—Enough, it may be, to squander away at cards or masquerades for a month or two. She has suitable accomplishments too!—Yes, indeed, they are suitable ones, I believe!—I suppose she can sing, dance, and jabber a little French; but I'll be hanged if she knows how to make a pye, or a pudding, or to teach her maid to do it!'

The reflection on Lady Mellasin, in the beginning of this speech, so much incensed Mr. Goodman, that he could scarce attend to the latter part of it: he forbore interrupting him, however; but, as soon as he had done speaking, replied in terms which shewed his resentment. In fine, such hot words passed between them, as, had they been younger men, might have produced worse consequence; but the spirit of both being equally evaporated in mutual reproaches, they grew more calm, and at last talked themselves into as good harmony as ever. Mr. Goodman said he was sorry that he had been prevailed upon, by the young man's intreaties, to keep his courtship to Miss Betsy a secret; and the alderman begged pardon, in his turn, for having said any thing disrespectful of Lady Mellasin.

On this they shook hands; another half-pint of sherry was called for; and, before they parted, the alderman acquainted Mr. Goodman, that to prevent entirely all future correspondence between his son and Miss Betsy, he had sent him to Holland some days ago, without letting him know any thing of his intentions till every thing was ready for his embarkation. 'I sent,' said he, 'the night before he was to go, his portmanteau, and what other luggage I thought he would have occasion for, to the inn where the Harwich stage puts up; and, making him be called up very early in the morning, told him he must go a little way out of town with me upon extraordinary business. He seemed very unwilling; said he had appointed that morning to meet a gentleman, and begged I would delay the journey to the next day, or even till the afternoon. What caused this backwardness I cannot imagine, for I think it was impossible he could know my designs on this score; but, whatever was in his head, I took care to disappoint it. I listened to none of his excuses, nor trusted him out of my sight; but forced him to go with me to the coach, in which I had secured a couple of places. He was horribly shocked when he found where he was going, and would fain have persuaded me to repeal his banishment, as he called it. I laughed in my sleeve; but took no notice of the real motive I had for sending him away, and told him there was an absolute necessity for his departure; that I had a business of the greatest importance at Rotterdam, in which I could trust nobody but himself to negociate; and that he would find, in his trunk, letters, and other papers, which would instruct him how to act.

'In fine,' continued the alderman, 'I went with him aboard, staid with him till they were ready to weigh anchor, then returned, and stood on the beach till the ship sailed quite out of sight; so that if my gentleman had a thought of writing to his mistress, he had not the least opportunity for it.' He added, that he did not altogether deceive his son, having, indeed, some affairs to transact at Rotterdam, though they were not of the mighty consequence he had pretended; but which he had, by a private letter to his agent there, ordered should be made appear as intricate and perplexing as possible, that the young gentleman's return might be delayed as long as there was any plausible excuse for detaining him, without his seeing through the reason of it.

Mr. Goodman praised the alderman's discretion in the whole conduct of this business; and, to atone for having been prevailed upon to keep young Saving's secret from him, offered to make interest with a friend he had at the post-office, to stop any letter that should be directed to Miss Betsy Thoughtless, by the way of Holland: 'By which means,' said he, 'all communication between the young people will soon be put an end to; he will grow weary of writing letters when he receives no answers; and she of thinking of him as a lover, when she finds he ceases to tell her he is so.'

The alderman was ready to hug his old friend for this proposal, which, it is certain, he made in the sincerity of his heart; for they no sooner parted, then he went to the office, and fulfilled his promise.

When he came home, in order to hinder Miss Betsy from expecting to hear any thing more of Mr. Saving, he told her he had been treated by the alderman pretty roughly, on account of the encouragement that had been given in his house to the amorous addresses which had been made to her by his son: 'And,' added he, 'the old man is so incensed against him, for having a thought of that kind in your favour, that he has sent him beyond sea—I know not to what part: but, it seems, he is never to come back, till he has given full assurance the liking he has for you is utterly worn off.'

'He might have spared himself the pains,' said Miss Betsy, blushing with disdain, 'his son could have informed him how little I was inclinable to listen to any thing he said, on the score of love; and I myself, if he had asked me the question, would have given him the strongest assurances that words could form, that if ever I changed my condition, (which Heaven knows I am far from thinking on as yet) I should never be prevailed upon to do it by any merits his son was possessed of.'

Mr. Goodman congratulated her on the indifference she expressed; and told her, he hoped she would always continue in the same humour, till an offer which promised more satisfaction in marriage should happen to be made.

Nothing more was said on this head; but Miss Betsy, upon ruminating on what Mr. Goodman had related, easily imagined, that the day in which he had been sent away, was the same on which he had appointed to meet her, and therefore excused his not coming as a thing unavoidable; yet, as she knew not the precaution his father had taken, was not so ready to forgive him for not sending a line to prevent her waiting so long for him at the habit-shop. She could not, however, when she reflected on the whole tenor of his deportment to her, think it possible he should all at once become guilty of wilfully omitting what even common good manners and decency required. She soon grew weary, however, of troubling herself about the matter; and a very few days served to make her lose even the memory of it.