Читать книгу Regency Romance Classics - Eliza Haywood Collection - Eliza Haywood - Страница 47
CHAPTER XIII
ОглавлениеIs the recital of some accidents, as little possible to be foreseen by the reader as they were by the persons to whom they happened
In youth, when the blood runs high, and the spirits are in full vivacity, affliction must come very heavy indeed, when it makes any deep or lasting impression on the mind. That vexation which Miss Betsy had brought upon herself, by going to the play with Miss Forward, was severe enough the whole night, and the ensuing day. A great while, it must be confessed, for a person of her volatile disposition; and when the more violent emotions had subsided, the terror she had lately sustained, had, at least, this good effect upon her; it made her resolve to take all possible precautions not to fall into the like danger again. As she had an infinite deal of generosity in her nature, when not obscured by that pride and vanity which the flatteries she had been but too much accustomed to, had inspired her with, she could not reflect how ill she had treated Mr. Trueworth, and the little regard she had paid to the tender concern he had shewn for her reputation, without thinking she ought to ask his pardon, and acknowledge she had been in the wrong. If Mr. Trueworth could have known the humour she was at present in, how readily would he have flown to her with all the wings of love and kind forgiveness! but as he had not the spirit of divination, and could only judge of her sentiments by her behaviour, it was not in his power to conceive how great a change had happened in his favour, through a just sensibility of her own error.
She, in the mean time, little imagined how he far he resented the treatment she had given him; especially as she heard he had been to wait upon her the day in which she saw no company; and, after having passed a night of much more tranquillity than the former had been, went down in the morning to breakfast with her usual chearfulness. She had not been many minutes in the parlour before she was agreeably surprized with the sight of her elder brother, Mr. Thomas Thoughtless, who, it seems, had arrived the night before. After the first welcomes were over, Mr. Goodman asked him, wherefore he did not come directly to his house; saying, he had always a spare bed to accommodate a friend; to which the other replied, that he had come from Paris with some company whom he could not quit, and that they had lain at the Hummums. Miss Betsy was extremely transported at his return, and said a thousand obliging things to him; all which he answered with more politeness than tenderness: and this young lady soon perceived, by this specimen of his behaviour to her, that she was not to expect the same affection from him, as she had received so many proofs of from her younger brother.
His long absence from England, and some attachments he had found abroad, had indeed very much taken off that warmth of kindness he would doubtless otherwise have felt for an only sister, and one who appeared so worthy of his love. As Mr. Goodman had acquainted him by letter, that he had hired a house for him, according to his request, the chief of their conversation turned on that subject; and, as soon as breakfast was over, they took a walk together to see it. On their return, he seemed very much pleased with the choice Mr. Goodman had made; and the little time he staid was entirely taken up with consulting Lady Mellasin, his sister, and Miss Flora, concerning the manner in which he should ornament it; for the honest guardian had taken care to provide all such furniture as he thought would be necessary for a single gentleman.
No intreaties were wanting to prevail on him to make that house his home, till his own was thoroughly aired, and in all respects fit for him to go into; but he excused himself, saying, he could not leave the friends he had travelled with, till they were provided for as well as himself; nor could all Mr. Goodman and the ladies urged, persuade him to dine with them that day.
It must be acknowledged, that this positive refusal of every thing that was desired of him, had not in it all that complaisance which might have been expected from a person just come from among a people more famous for their politeness than their sincerity.
But he had his own reasons, which the family of Mr. Goodman as yet were far from suspecting, which made him act in the manner he now did; and it was not, in reality, the want of French breeding, but the want of true old English resolution, that enforced this seeming negligence and abruptness.
After he was gone, Mr. Goodman went to Change; but was scarce entered into the walk, where he had appointed to meet some merchants, when he was accosted by two rough, ill-looking fellows, who demanded his sword, and told him they had a writ against him; that he was their prisoner, and must go with them.
Mr. Goodman, who had as little reason as any man living to suspect an insult of this nature, only smiled, and told them they were mistaken in the person. 'No, no,' said one of them, 'we are right enough, if you are Mr. Samuel Goodman!'—'My name is Samuel Goodman,' replied he; 'but I do not know that it stands in any man's books for debt: but, pray,' continued he, 'at whose suit am I arrested?'—'At the suit of Mr. Oliver Marplus,' said the other officer. 'I have no dealings with any such person,' cried Mr. Goodman: 'nor even ever heard the name of him you mention.' They then told him it was his business to prove that; they did but do their duty, and he must obey the writ. Mr. Goodman, on this, knowing they were not the persons with whom this matter should be contested, readily went where they conducted him, which was to a house belonging to him who appeared to be the principal of the two. As they were coming off Change, he bade his coachman drive his chariot home, and tell his lady, that he believed he should not dine with her that day; but he kept his footman with him, to send on what messages he should find convenient.
The officer, knowing his condition, and not doubting but he should have a handsome present for civility-money, used him with a great deal of respect when he had got him into his house; and, on his desiring to be informed of the lawyer's name employed in the action, he immediately told him, and also for what sum he was arrested, which was no less than two thousand five hundred and seventy-five pounds eight shillings. 'A pretty parcel of money, truly!' said Mr. Goodman; 'I wonder in what dream I contracted this debt.' He then called for pen, ink, and paper; and wrote a line to his lawyer in the Temple, desiring him to go to the other who they said was concerned against him, and find out the truth of this affair.
The honest old gentleman, having sent this letter by his servant, called for something to eat; and was extremely facetious and pleasant with the officers, not doubting but that what had happened was occasioned through some mistake or other, and should immediately be discharged when the thing was enquired into: but his present good-humour was changed into one altogether the reverse, when his own lawyer, accompanied by him who was engaged for his adversary, came to him, and told him there was no remedy but to give bail; that the suit commenced against him was on account of a bond given by Lady Mellasin to Mr. Oliver Marplus, some few days previous to her marriage. It is hard to say, whether surprize or rage was most predominant in the soul of this much-injured husband, at so shocking a piece of intelligence. He demanded to see the bond; which request being granted, he found it not, as he at first flattered himself, a forgery, but signed with his wife's own hand, and witnessed by Mrs. Prinks, her woman, and another person whom he knew not.
It is certain that no confusion ever exceeded that of Mr. Goodman's at this time: he sat like one transfixed with thunder; and was wholly incapable of uttering one syllable. He appeared to the company as lost in thought; but was, indeed, almost past the power of thinking, till his lawyer roused him with these words—'Come, Sir,' said he, 'you see how the case stands; there is no time to be lost; you must either pay the money down, or get immediate security; for I suppose you would not chuse to lie here to-night.' This seasonable admonition brought him a little to himself: he now began to reflect on what it would best become him to do; and, after a pause of some moments, 'I believe,' said he, 'that I have now in my house more than the sum in bills that would discharge this bond; but I would willingly hear what this woman has to say before I pay the money, and will therefore give in bail.' Accordingly, he sent for two citizens of great worth and credit, to desire them to come to him; they instantly complied with this summons; and the whole affair being repeated to them, voluntarily offered to be his sureties.
Bail-bonds were easily procured; but it took up some time in filling them up, and discharging the fees, and other consequential expences, so that it was past one o'clock before all was over, and Mr. Goodman had liberty to return to his own habitation.
It was very seldom that Mr. Goodman staid late abroad; but whenever any thing happened that obliged him to do so, Lady Mellasin, through the great affection she pretended to have for him, would never go to bed till his return. Mrs. Prinks for the most part was her sole companion in such cases; but it so fell out, that this night neither of the two young ladies had any inclination to sleep: Miss Flora's head was full of the above-mentioned plot, and the anxiety for it's success; the remembrance of the last adventure at Miss Forward's was not yet quite dissipated in Miss Betsy; the coldness with which she imagined herself treated by her elder brother, with whom she had flattered herself of living, and being very happy under his protection, gave her a good deal of uneasiness. To add to all these matters of disquiet, she had also received that afternoon a letter from Mr. Francis Thoughtless, acquainting her, that he had the misfortune to be so much bruised by a fall he got from his horse, that it was utterly impossible for him to travel, and she must not expect him in town yet for some days.
The ladies were all together, sitting in the parlour, each chusing rather to indulge her own private meditations, than to hold discourse with the others, when Mr. Goodman came home. Lady Mellasin ran to embrace him with a shew of the greatest tenderness; 'My dear Mr. Goodman,' cried she, 'how much I have suffered from my fear lest some ill accident should have befallen you!'—'The worst that could have happened has befallen me,' replied he, thrusting her from him; 'yet no more than what you might very reasonably expect would one day or another happen.'—'What do you mean, my dear?' said she, more alarmed at his words and looks than she made shew of. 'You may too easily inform yourself what it is I mean,' cried he, hastily, 'on the retrospect of your behaviour; I now find, but too late, how much I have been imposed upon. Did you not assure me,' continued he, somewhat more mildly, 'that you were free from all incumbrances but that girl, whom, since our marriage, I have tendered as my own?' And then perceiving she answered nothing, but looked pale, and trembled, he repeated to her the affront he had received; 'Which,' said he, 'in all my dealings in the world, would never have happened, but on your account.'
Though Lady Mellasin had as much artifice, and the power of dissimulation, as any of her sex, yet she was at a loss thus taken unprepared. She hesitated, she stammered, and fain would have denied the having given any such bond; but, finding the proofs too plain against her, she threw herself at his feet, wept, and conjured him to forgive the only deception she had practised on him: 'It was a debt,' said she, 'contracted by my former husband, which I knew not of. I thought the effects he left behind him were more than sufficient to have discharged whatever obligations he lay under, and foolishly took out letters of administration. The demand of Marplus came not upon me till some time after; I then inconsiderately gave him my own bond, which he, however, promised not to put in force without previously acquainting me.'
This excuse was too weak, as well as all the affection Mr. Goodman had for her, to pacify the emotions of his just indignation. 'And pray,' cried he, in a voice divided between scorn and anger, 'of what advantage would it have been to me your being previously acquainted with it? Could you have paid the money without robbing or defrauding me? No, Madam!' continued he, 'I shall for the future give credit to nothing you can say; and as I cannot be assured that this is the only misfortune I have to dread on your account, shall consider what steps I ought to take for my defence.'
In speaking these words he rung the bell for a servant, and ordered that bed to which he had invited Mr. Thoughtless, should that instant be made ready for himself. All the tears and intreaties of Lady Mellasin were in vain to make him recede from his resolution of lying alone that night; and, as soon as he was told his orders were obeyed, he flung out of the room, saying, 'Madam, perhaps, we never more may meet between a pair of sheets!' Whether at that time he was determined to carry his resentment so far, or not, is uncertain; but what happened very shortly after left him no other part to take than that which he had threatened.