Читать книгу The Greatest Regency Romance Novels - Maria Edgeworth - Страница 100

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Relates such things as the reader will, doubtless, think of very great importance, yet will hereafter be found of much greater then he can at present imagine

After this much-injured wife had vented some part of the overflowing passions of her soul in tears and exclamations, she began to consider, with more calmness, in which manner she ought to behave, in so amazing a circumstance. She had not the least propensity in her nature to jealousy; yet she could not think that any thing less than a criminal correspondence between her husband and this Frenchwoman, could induce the one, or embolden the other, to act as they had done towards her.

'Neither divine nor human laws,' said she, 'nor any of those obligations by which I have hitherto looked upon myself as bound, can now compel me any longer to endure the cold neglects, the insults, the tyranny, of this most ungrateful, most perfidious man! I have discharged the duties of my station; I have fully proved I know how to be a good wife, if he had known how to be even a tolerable husband: wherefore, then, should I hesitate to take the opportunity, which this last act of baseness gives me, of easing myself of that heavy yoke I have laboured under for so many cruel months?'

She would not, however, do anything precipitately; it was not sufficient, she thought, that she should be justified to herself, she was willing also to be justified in the opinion of her friends: her brother was the first person to be consulted; she resolved, therefore, to go immediately to him; but as it was necessary to put something in order before her departure, in case she should return no more, she called the maid, who always waited on her in her chamber, to assist her on this occasion.

She locked up her jewels, and what other trinkets she had of value, in an amber-cabinet, and made her wearing-apparel be also disposed of in proper utensils, leaving out only some linen, and other necessaries, for the present use, which she also caused to be packed up. The poor maid, who loved her mistress dearly, and easily guessed the meaning of these preparations, could not refrain weeping all the time she was thus employed. 'Ah, Madam!' cried she, 'what a sad thing it is that married gentlemen will be so foolish!—Hang all the French, I say!'—'What do'st mean, Jenny?' said Mrs. Munden. 'Ah, Madam!' replied she, 'I should have told you before, but that I was afraid of making you uneasy: but, since I find you know how things are, I shall make no secret of it. You may remember, Madam, that you gave me leave last Monday to go to see my sister—she lives in St. Martin's Lane—it would have been nearer for me, indeed, to have gone through the Mews; but, I know not how it happened, I went by Charing Cross; and, just as I was going to cross the way, who should I see pop out of a hackney-coach but my master and this Frenchwoman—they hurried together, arm in arm, into a bagnio—and you know, Madam, some of those places have but an ugly name: for my part, I was so confounded that I scarce knew whether I stood upon my head or my heels; but I did not say a word of what I had seen when I came home, till just now John came down and told us all how that wicked woman had affronted you.'

Mrs. Munden then recalled that Mr. Munden's man was in the room when she related the behaviour of Mademoiselle de Roquelair; which she now was not sorry for, nor of the fresh proof given her by this maid of the perfidy of her husband.

'Well, Jenny,' said she, 'I am not yet determined how I shall proceed; I am going to my brother's, and shall take Tom with me: if I do not come back to-night, he shall bring you instructions what things to send me; but, in the mean time, say nothing to your master of what we have been talking.'

Mrs. Munden could not forbear shedding tears, as she was going into her chair, at the thoughts of this exile, voluntary as it was, from a house she had so much right to call her own; but the poor maid roared out so loud at seeing her depart, that it brought all the servants out of the kitchen to know what was the matter; which, being told by Jenny, occasioned so general a grief among them for the loss of so good a mistress, that had Mademoiselle de Roquelair remained in the house, and the same servants also been continued, it is possible she would have had little either of respect or obedience from them.

But fortune spared this mortification, in order to inflict a much greater one on her ingratitude and treachery. Mr. Munden had not quitted the presence of his wife many minutes before he began to reflect seriously on this accident; he found it might prove a very vexatious one, if the consequences it seemed to threaten were not in time prevented: he highly blamed Mademoiselle de Roquelair for her behaviour to Mrs. Munden; not so much because it might give that lady room to suspect in what manner he had wronged her, as because it plainly shewed that the other intended to pin herself on him, and oblige him to support her—a thing which did not at all suit with his humour; he had gratified his passion almost to a surfeit—a very little longer time would have made him as heartily wish to get rid of her, as he had ever done to gain her; and although it could not be said he was as yet altogether cloyed with the pleasures she so lavishly bestowed, yet a little examination into the extent of his inclinations, convinced him that he could bear the loss of her for ever without pain.

While the blood runs high, and the fire is rampant for possession, prudence is of little force; but when the one begins to flag, the other resumes its empire over the mind, and never rests till it finds means to retrieve what it has lost: he could now consider that the money remitted to Bologne by Mr. Thoughtless could be received by nobody but Mademoiselle de Roquelair herself, and that it was probable that gentleman, if told the usage that had been given to his sister, might be provoked to recal his order, and prevent the payment of it at all. This seemed, however, a plausible pretence for persuading her to go away directly, and also for making a merit to his wife of what he did.

Having fully determined within himself how to proceed in this affair, he shortened his morning's walk, and came home some hours before the usual time: he was at first a little fretted on being told Mrs. Munden was gone to her brother's, not doubting but the errand on which she went was to complain of the treatment she had received; but Jenny carefully concealing what her mistress had said to her concerning her intentions of coming back no more, he passed it lightly over, imagining her accusations and reproaches would cease, the object of them being once removed.

He found no difficulty in prevailing on Mademoiselle de Roquelair to go to Bologne. Three hundred louis-d'ors was too tempting a sum to be forfeited merely for the want of a little jaunt, especially as she considered that she might accomplish her business there and return to London within the compass of a very few days; and he told her that he would hire lodgings for her against her coming back.

'Well, then, my angel,' said he, 'no time is to be lost: as this is not post day, if you set out immediately for Dover, you may be at Bologne, and have received the money before any letter can reach that place to prevent it; for it is very likely that the spite my wife has towards you, may work upon the resentment of her brother to attempt such a thing.' Everything being concluded upon for this expedition, he went himself to procure a post-chaise, appointing her to meet him at a place he mentioned to her in an hour at farthest.

As he had promised to send all her baggage to the lodgings which he should provide for her return, she had nothing to do but to pack up some few necessaries to take with her. This little work being soon over, a hackney-coach carried her to the house that had been agreed upon; where she saw a post-chaise already at the door, and the diligent Mr. Munden waiting for her coming: as she proposed to reach Canterbury that same night, and it was then past two o'clock, the lovers were obliged to take a very hasty leave.

This double, deceitful man, having a farther view in what he did than she had any notion of, told her, at parting, that it would be proper for her to stay at Bologne till she received a letter from him with an account in what street and part of the town the lodgings he should provide for her were situated, to the end she might come directly into them on her arrival: he spoke this with an air so full of tenderness and care for her repose, that she had not the least suspicion of his drift; and replied, that she would not fail to do as he advised, but desired he would be as speedy as possible in writing to her; 'For,' cried she, embracing him, 'I shall think every day a year till I return to the arms of my dear Munden!'

Having thus, in reality, discarded, his mistress, though without her knowing he had done so, he went home, in order to boast to his wife of the complaisance he had shewn to her in this affair; but, finding she was not yet come back, he called for her maid, and bid her tell her, the moment she should return, that he had complied with her request, and made the Frenchwoman go out of the house.

After having said this, he went out again, and came not home till late at night; when he was confounded beyond measure on finding a letter from Mrs. Munden, which had been left for him by her own footman in the beginning of the evening; and contained these lines.

'To Mr. Munden.

Sir,

As you cannot but be sensible that the mutual engagements between us have been strictly adhered to on my part, and almost in every particular falsified on yours, you ought not to be surprized that I have at last resolved to put a final end to a way of life so unpleasing in the eyes of Heaven, and so disagreeable to ourselves: it never was in my power to make you truly happy, nor in your will to make me even tolerably easy; I therefore fly for ever from your ill-usage, and once more put myself under the protection of my friends, to whom I also shall commit the care of settling with you the terms of our separation; which being once agreed upon, you will not be troubled either with the complaints, or the reproaches, of your much-injured wife,

B. Munden.

P.S. I have removed nothing out of your house but what was my own before marriage.'

Upon enquiring further into the matter, he was informed that Mrs. Munden had, indeed, removed a large India-chest, a bureau, cabinet dressing-table; and, in fine, every thing that belonged immediately to herself; and also that his family was now reduced to two, her own man and maid having followed her.

All this convincing him how much she was in earnest, involved him in the most perplexing cogitations; not that he regretted the parting with her through any remains of affection, or that his hardened heart was touched with a just sensibility of her merit, or with any repentance of his ill treatment of her; but that he knew such an affair must necessarily be attended with some noise and confusion, and in many respects give him a good deal of embarrassment: it was therefore these last two reasons which alone determined him to make use of all his artifice to bring about a second reconciliation.

That beautiful lady, in the mean time, had thoughts much more composed; her brother had received her in the most affectionate manner—had approved her conduct in regard to her unfaithful husband—had assured her of the continuance of his friendship and protection; and, before she could request it of him, invited her, and such of her servants as she chose should attend her, to remain in his house as long as she should think fit. He desired her to take upon her the sole command and management of his house and family, and assigned the best apartment for her particular use: in fine, he omitted nothing that might convince her of a sincere welcome.

On discoursing together concerning her obtaining a separate maintenance, it was the opinion of both of them, that Mr. Markland the lawyer should be advised with, as he was a man who could not but be well experienced in such affairs; and accordingly a servant was dispatched to that gentleman, to desire he would come to them the next day.

But though she had reason to be highly satisfied with the reception given her by her brother, yet she could not be quite easy till she should hear what judgment her dear Lady Loveit would pass on the step she had taken. She went the next morning to pay a visit at that lady's toilette; she related to her sincerely every particular of the provocation she had received, the manner in which she had resented it, and the resolution she had taken of living in an eternal state of separation from so bad a man: to which Lady Loveit replied, that though she was extremely sorry for the occasion, yet she thought if she had acted otherwise, it would have been an injustice not only to herself, but to all wives in general, by setting them an example of submitting to things required of them neither by law nor nature.

This encouragement, from a lady of her known scrupulous disposition, made Mrs. Munden not doubt but she would be equally absolved by Lady Trusty and her brother Frank; to both whom she wrote an account of all she had done.

On her return from Lady Loveit's, she found a letter from Mr. Munden, in answer to that she had sent to him the day before: the contents whereof were as follow.

'To Mrs. Munden.

Madam,

The unaccountableness of your behaviour astonishes me! For heaven's sake, how can you answer to yourself the having quitted your husband's house for so trifling a pretence? It is true, I did not at first give much regard to your complaint against Mademoiselle de Roquelair; but, on considering it, I obliged her to depart immediately. I do assure you she set out yesterday for Dover, and I believe by this time is as far as Calais on her way to Bologne; so that there now remains no excuse for your absenting yourself: and if you should continue to do so, it will be a very plain proof that you are extremely wanting in that duty and affection which the laws both of God and man expect from you. But I flatter myself that is not the case; and therefore expect you will return with all possible expedition to him who will be always ready to prove himself your most affectionate husband,

G. Munden.

P.S. I know not what you mean by terms of separation: a wife who elopes from her husband forfeits all claim to every thing that is his, and can expect nothing from him till she returns to her obedience; but were it otherwise, and the law entirely on your side in this point, you might be certain that I look upon the happiness of possessing you in too just a light to be easily brought into any agreement that would deprive me of you.'

Though Mr. Munden wanted not cunning in most things, yet in writing this epistle he seemed not to consider the spirit or the penetration of his wife, who, he might have known, had too great a share of both to be either intimidated by the majesterial air of some of the expressions, or soothed by the fawning, unsincere compliments, of the others.

This vain attempt therefore only served to remind her of the many proofs she had received both of his ill-nature and deceit towards her; and, instead of weakening the resolution she had taken of not living with him again, rather rendered it more strong and permanent.