Читать книгу The Greatest Regency Romance Novels - Maria Edgeworth - Страница 35
CHAPTER I
ОглавлениеWill satisfy the reader's curiosity in some points, and increase it in others
Though Mr. Goodman, under whose care and in whose house Miss Betsy had been for upwards of a year, knew much more of that young lady's humour and disposition than Mr. Chatfree, who saw her but seldom, could possibly do, and could not be brought to think, as he did, that the merits of Mr. Trueworth had made any effectual impression on her heart; yet he imagined, that to propogate such an opinion to Mr. Staple, would conduce very much to persuade him to break off his courtship, which was a thing very much desired by Mr. Goodman, as he was certain the continuance of it would be attended with almost insurmountable difficulties, and create many vexations and disputes, when Mr. Francis Thoughtless came to town.
The two old gentlemen went on together, discoursing on this affair, till they came to the lodgings of Mr. Staple; where they found him in an easy chair, leaning on a table, with papers and a standish before him. They perceived he had been writing, for the pen was not out of his hand when they entered the room: he threw it down, however, as soon as he saw them, and rose to receive them with a great deal of politeness, though accompanied with an air, which, in spite of his endeavours to conceal it, discovered he laboured under an extraordinary dejection of spirits.
'I am glad,' said Mr. Chatfree, pointing to the pen, 'to see you are able to make use of that weapon, as I feared your arm had been too much prejudiced by another.'—'I have found some difficulty, indeed, in doing it,' replied the wounded gentleman; 'but something, which seemed to me a case of necessity, obliged me to exert my utmost efforts for that purpose.'
After the first civilities were over, and they were all seated, Mr. Goodman and Mr. Chatfree began to open the business upon which they came. Mr. Goodman represented to him, in the most pathetick terms, the deep concern he had been in, for having ever encouraged his addresses to Miss Betsy; and excused himself for having done so, by his ignorance, at the time, that Mr. Trueworth had been previously recommended by her brother. He then gave him some hints, that the civilities Miss Betsy had treated him with, he feared, were rather owing to that little vanity which is generally the companion of youth and beauty, than to that real regard which his passion and person merited from her; and said, he heartily wished to see him withdraw his affections from an object, where he could not now flatter him with the least hope of a suitable return.
'No, no!' cried Mr. Chatfree, interrupting him hastily, 'you may take my word, she is as much in love as a girl of her temper can be with Mr. Trueworth; and I do not doubt but you will all see the effects of it as soon as her brother comes to town.' Mr. Goodman, on this, took an opportunity of telling Mr. Staple, that the ascendant that young gentleman had over his sister, and the zeal he expressed for the interest of his friend, would certainly go a great way in determining the point; and added, that if it were true, as his friends suggested, that she really had an inclination for Mr. Trueworth, she would then avow it, and make a merit of it to her brother, as if done merely in regard to him.
Many other arguments were urged by these two gentlemen, in order to convince Mr. Staple of the little probability there was in succeeding with Miss Betsy: all which he listened to attentively, never interrupting what either of them said; till, perceiving they had ended all they had to offer on the subject, he made them this reply.
'Gentlemen,' said he, 'I am infinitely obliged to you both for this visit, and the friendly purpose of it; which, I perceive, was to give me that advice which you might reasonably think I wanted. I have heard, and I believe have not lost one word, at least, I am sure, no part of the meaning, of what you have delivered. I own there is a great justice in every thing you have alledged; and am pleased to think the arguments you bring, are such as, before your coming here, I had myself brought against the folly of my own unhappy passion for Miss Betsy. But, gentlemen, it is not that I am capable of being deterred from prosecuting it, by any thing I might have to apprehend, either by her own inclinations or her brother's persuasions; but for other reasons, which at present, perhaps, you may be ignorant of, yet are such as to conceal I should but half be just. Be pleased, Sir,' he continued, addressing himself to Mr. Goodman, and giving him a paper, 'to read that letter, and see what my resolutions are, and the motives I have for them.'
Mr. Goodman was beginning to look over the paper; but Mr. Staple requested he would read it aloud, as he desired that Mr. Chatfree should be partaker of the contents: on which he read, with an audible voice, these lines.
'To Charles Trueworth, Esq.
Sir,
When I proposed the decision of our fate by force of arms, I offered, at the same time, that the glory of serving Miss Betsy should be the victor's triumph. This your too great modesty declined: but, Sir, though you scorned to accept the advantage your superior skill acquired, your generosity, in spite of you, has gained. I love Miss Betsy; and would have maintained my claim against all who should have dared dispute her with me, while justice and while honour permitted me to do so: but though I am unfortunate, I never can be base. My life, worthless as it is, has twice been in your power; and I should be no less hateful to myself, than contemptible to the world, should I offer to interrupt the peace of him that gave it. May you be as successful in love as you have been in fight, and the amiable object be convinced of her own happiness in making yours! I desist for ever from the vain hopes I once was flattered with; and the first wish my soul now harbours is, to be worthy the title of your friend, as I am bound to avow myself, with the greatest sincerity, Sir, your most obliged and most humble servant,
T. Staple.'
'Nothing,' said Mr. Goodman, as soon as he had done reading, 'can equal your generosity in forming this resolution, but the wisdom in persisting in it; and if I find you do so, shall have more reason to congratulate you upon it, than I should think I had on the success of your wishes in marrying Miss Betsy.'
'I should laugh now,' cried Mr. Chatfree, 'if Mr. Trueworth, in a fit of generosity too, should also take it into his head to resign his pretensions, and chuse to wear the willow, instead of the myrtle-garland, because you do so.'—'He has already proved his generosity,' replied Mr. Staple, with a sigh, which he was unable to restrain, 'and has no need to give the severe testimony you mention, if he is so happy as you seem to think he is: but,' continued he, 'it is not my business to examine who yields, or who pursues, Miss Betsy. I am fixed in my determination to see her no more; and, as soon as I am recovered from the hurts I have received on her account, will go into the country, and seek a cure in absence for my unavailing passion.'
Neither Mr. Goodman nor Mr. Chatfree were so old as to have forgot how hard it is for a youthful heart to give up it's darling wishes, and sacrifice desire to discretion. They said abundance of handsome things, omitting nothing which they imagined might add to the fortitude of his present way of thinking. He, on the other hand, to take from them all remains of doubt concerning the sincerity of his intentions, sealed the letter he had wrote to Mr. Trueworth, and sent it to that gentleman, while they were in the room.
Mr. Goodman was extremely pleased in his mind, that an affair, which, for some time past, had given him a good deal of anxiety, was in so fair a way of being ended without farther mischief: he took no notice, however, on his return home, at least, not before Miss Betsy, of the visit he had been making, or that he knew any thing more of Mr. Staple, than what she had been told herself by Mr. Chatfree.
In the mean time, this young lady affected to appear more grave than ordinary: I say, affected to be so; for as she had been at first shocked by Mr. Chatfree's report, and afterwards teazed by his raillery, and then reprimanded on the score of her conduct by Mr. Goodman, she was not displeased in her heart at the dangerous proof which the two lovers had given her of their passion.
She lost, however, great part of the satisfaction this adventure might have afforded her, for want of a proper person to whom she might have talked freely on it. She had, indeed, many acquaintances, in some of whom she, doubtless, might have confided; but she did not chuse to be herself the reporter of this story to any one who had not heard of it from other hands; and Miss Flora, who knew the whole, and was her companion and bedfellow, was grown of late so sullen and peevish, as not to be capable of either giving or receiving any diversion in discourses of that nature.
It is certain, however, that there never was a more astonishing alteration in the temper of any one person in so short a time, than in that of Miss Flora: her once gay and sprightly behaviour, which, without being a beauty, rendered her extremely agreeable, was now become all dull and gloomy. Instead of being fond of a great deal of company, she now rather chose to avoid than covet the society of any one: she said but little; and, when she spoke, it was only to contradict whatever she heard alledged by others. A heavy melancholy, mixed with an ill-natured frown, perpetually loured upon her brow: in fine, if she had been a little older, she might have sat for the picture of Envy. Miss Betsy, by being most with her, felt most the effects of her bad humour; but as she thought she could easily account, the sweetness of her disposition made her rather pity than resent the change.
A young linen-draper, of whom Lady Mellasin sometimes bought things, had taken a great fancy to Miss Flora; and not doubting but she had a fortune in some measure answerable to the appearance she made, got a friend to intercede with Lady Mellasin, for leave to pay his respects to her daughter. This being granted, he made several visits to the house, and was very well received by Miss Flora herself, as well as by those who had the disposal of her; till, coming on the topick of fortune, Mr. Goodman plainly told him, that having many relations of his own to provide for, the most he could spare to Miss Flora was five hundred pounds. The draper's passion was very much damped on hearing his mistress's portion was like to be so small: he told Mr. Goodman, that though he was very much charmed with the person and behaviour of the young lady, and should be proud of the honour of an alliance with such a family, yet as he was a young man, and but lately set up for himself, he wanted money to throw into trade, and could not think of marrying without more than three times the sum offered. He added, that a young lady of her birth, and bringing up, would expect to live as she had been accustomed, which he could no way promise she should do, without a fortune sufficient to defray the expence.
Mr. Goodman thought the reasons he gave were very just; and as he was unwilling to stretch his hand any farther than he had said, and was too honest to promise more than he intended to perform, replied, with the same freedom that the other had spoke, that in truth he did not think Flora would make a fit wife for a tradesman; that the girl was young enough, not ugly; and it was his opinion that she should wait till a more suitable match should offer. In a word, Mr. Goodman's answer put a final stop to the courtship; and though Miss Flora affected to disdain the mercenary views, as she termed them, of the draper, and never spoke of him but with the utmost contempt, yet her melancholy coming on soon after he had desisted his addresses, made Miss Betsy think she had reason to impute it to no other cause; and therefore, in mere compassion to this imaginary mortification, was so far from retorting any of those little taunts and malicious innuendoes, with which she was continually treated by the other, that she took all the pains she could to alleviate the vexation she saw her in, and soothe her into a better humour.
The reader will probably think as Miss Betsy did: but the falsity of this conjecture, and the cruel return the good-nature of that young lady met with, will in due time and place appear.
