Читать книгу The Greatest Regency Romance Novels - Maria Edgeworth - Страница 67

Table of Contents

Contains very little to the purpose

Mr. Francis Thoughtless had no sooner left the lodgings of Mr. Trueworth, than he went directly to those of his sister Betsy; where, in the humour he then was, the reader will easily suppose, he could not be very good company. After telling her he had seen Mr. Trueworth, and had had some conversation with him on her account, 'I am now convinced,' said he, 'of what before I doubted not, that by your own ill management, and want of a just sense of what is for your interest and happiness, you have lost an opportunity of establishing both, which can never be retrieved: nor is this all; your manner of behaviour not only ruins yourself, but involves all belonging to you in endless quarrels and perplexities.'

These were reproaches which Miss Betsy had too much spirit to have borne from any one but a brother; and even to him she was far from yielding that she had in any measure deserved them. 'I defy Trueworth himself,' cried she, with all the resentment of a disappointed lover in her heart, 'to accuse me of one action that the strictest virtue could condemn!'

'Ah, sister!' replied he, 'do not let your vanity deceive you on this score: I see very plainly that Mr. Trueworth regards you with too much indifference to retain resentment for any treatment you have given him; that he once loved you, I am well assured; that he no longer does so, is owing to yourself: but I shall mention him no more; the passion he had for you is extinguished, I believe, beyond all possibility of reviving, nor would I wish you to attempt it. I would only have you remember what Mr. Goodman uttered concerning you with almost his dying breath: for my own part, I have not been a witness of your conduct, since the unhappy brulée I fell into on your account at Oxford, which I then hoped would be a sufficient warning for your future behaviour.'

If Miss Betsy had been less innocent, it is probable she would have replied in a more satisfactory manner to her brother's reproaches; but the real disdain she always had for whatever had the least tendency to dishonour, made her zealous in defending herself only in things of which she was not accused, and silent in regard of those in which she was judged blame-worthy.

'What avails your being virtuous!' said Mr. Francis; 'I hope, and believe, you are so: but your reputation is of more consequence to your family; the loss of the one might be concealed, but a blemish on the other brings certain infamy and disgrace on yourself and all belonging to you.'

On this she assumed the courage to tell him his way of reasoning was neither just nor delicate. 'Would you,' said she, 'be guilty of a base action, rather than have it suspected that you were so?'—'No,' answered he; 'but virtue is a different thing in our sex to what it is in yours: the forfeiture of what is called virtue in a woman is more a folly than a baseness; but the virtue of a man is his courage, his constancy, his probity; which if he loses, he becomes contemptible to himself, as well as to the world.'

'And certainly,' rejoined Miss Betsy, with some warmth, 'the loss of innocence must render a woman contemptible to herself, though she should happen to hide her transgression from the world.'—'That may be,' said Mr. Francis; 'but then her kindred suffer not through her fault: the remorse, and the vexation for what she has done, is all her own. Indeed, sister,' continued he, 'a woman brings less dishonour upon a family by twenty private sins, than by one publick indiscretion.'

'Well,' answered she, 'I hope I shall always take care to avoid both the one and the other, for my own sake. As to indulging myself with the innocent pleasures of the town, I have the example of some ladies of the first quality, and best reputation, to justify me in it.'

Mr. Thoughtless was about to make some reply, which, perhaps, would have been pretty keen, but was prevented by the coming in of her maid, who delivering a letter to her, and saying, 'From Sir Frederick Fineer, Madam!' she hastily broke it open; and having read it, bid the maid let Sir Frederick's servant know she would be at home.

'There, brother,' said she, giving him the letter, 'read that, and be convinced I have not lost every good offer in losing Mr. Trueworth.'—'I wish you have not,' answered he sullenly. He took the paper, however, and read the contents of it, which were these.

'To the divine arbitress of my fate, the omnipotently lovely Miss Betsy Thoughtless.

O Goddess! more cruel than the avenging Nemisis, what have I done, that, like Ixion, I must still be tortured on the wheel of everlasting hopes and fears? I hoped yesterday to have approached the shrine of your resplendent charms; but you had quitted the sacred dome which you inhabit, and vouchsafed to bless some happier mansion with your presence—perhaps a rival: oh, forbid it Heaven! forbid it, all ye stars that, under the Supreme, rule all beneath the moon! The thought is terrible, and shocks the inmost cavities of my adoring jealous soul. I kneel while I am writing, and implore you to grant me permission to sip a cup of nectar and ambrosia at your tea-table this afternoon; and if you can, without injustice to superior merit, debar all other intruders thence, that I may have liberty to pour forth my ejaculations at your feet. I am, with the most ardent devotion, brightest refulgency of beauty, your most adoring, and everlasting slave,

F. Fineer.'

As little as Mr. Francis at this time was disposed to mirth, he could not, in spite of his ill-humour, refrain laughing on reading some expressions in this heroically-learned epistle: 'I need not ask,' said he, throwing the letter contemptuously on the table, 'who, or what, this new adorer of yours is; it is easy to see he is either mad or a fool, or thinks to make you so.'

'I have as bad an opinion of his intellects as you have,' replied she; 'but I assure you he is a baronet, and the presumptive heir of a much greater title; and has an estate large enough to keep me a coach and twelve, if the custom of the country permitted.'

Mr. Francis paused for a few moments; and, after looking over the letter again, 'I wish,' said he, 'instead of a fool of fashion, he is not a knave in the disguise of a coxcomb: his stupidity seems to me to be too egregious to be natural; all his expressions have more the appearance of a studied affectation, than of a real folly. Take care, sister; I have heard there are many impostors in this town, who are continually on the watch for young ladies who have lost their parents, and live in the unguarded manner you do.'

Miss Betsy seemed to treat her brother's suspicions on this head with a good deal of contempt: she told him, that the person at whose house she became acquainted with Sir Frederick, knew his circumstances perfectly well; that he had a prodigious estate, was of a very ancient and honourable family, and conversed with several people of the first quality in England: 'However,' added she, 'you may call here this afternoon, and see him yourself, if you please; for, according to my judgment, he has not wit enough to be an impostor.'

Mr. Francis replied, that he would be glad to see so extraordinary a person if he were not obliged to go upon some business relating to the commission he was soliciting, which he feared would detain him beyond the hour: 'But, with your leave,' said he, 'I will take this letter with me, and hear what my brother thinks of it.'

To this Miss Betsy readily agreed; and he went away in somewhat of a better humour than he had entered, or that he had put her into by the severe reprimands he had given her.

She had a very tender regard for her brothers, but did not think it their province to prescribe rules for her behaviour; she looked upon herself as a better judge in what manner it would become her to act, than they could possibly be, as having lived more years in London than either of them had done months; and, if she was willing to be advised, would not submit to be directed by them.

Thus did her pride a while support her spirits: but when she reflected on the affair of Mr. Trueworth, and the reasons she had given him for speaking and thinking of her in that cool manner she found he now did, she began to be somewhat less tenacious; and acknowledged within herself, that her brother Frank, exclusive of his friendship for that gentleman, had sufficient cause to blame her conduct in that point; and the heat of passion which had been raised by some expressions he had uttered being over, she ceased to take unkindly what she was now sensible had only been occasioned by his zeal for her welfare.

She now saw in their true light all the mistakes she had been guilty of; all her dangers, all her escapes; and blushed to remember, how she had been plunged into the one, merely by her own inadvertency; and been blessed with the other, only by the interposition of some accident, altogether unforeseen, and even unhoped for, by her.

She had also a more just and lively idea of the merits of Mr. Trueworth than ever she had been capable of entertaining while he professed himself her lover: the amiableness of his person—his fine understanding—his generosity—his bravery—his wit—and the delicacy and elegance of his conversation—seemed to her impossible to be equalled; she considered, too, that his estate was much beyond what her fortune could expect, and that even his family was superior to hers; and could not help being very sensibly affected that she had so rashly thrown away her pretensions to the heart of so valuable a man.

'It is true,' said she, 'that if I had an inclination to marry, I have other offers: Mr. Munden, by his way of living, must have a good estate, perhaps not inferior to that of Mr. Trueworth; the man has good sense, and wants neither personal nor acquired endowments; and I have tried both his love and his constancy; besides, he lives always in town, has a taste for the pleasures of it—a woman could not be very unhappy in being his wife. Then there is Sir Frederick Fineer—he is a fool, indeed; but he is a man of quality: and I know several ladies, who are the envy of their own sex, and the toast of the other, and yet have fools for their husbands.'

In this manner did she continue reasoning within herself, till her head began to ache, and she was luckily relieved from it by the last-mentioned subject of her meditations.

He approached her with his accustomed formalities; first saluting the hem of her garment, then her hand, and lastly her lips, which she receiving with an air more than ordinarily serious, and also making very short replies to the fine speeches he had prepared to entertain her with—'What invidious cloud,' said he, 'obscures the lightning of your eyes, and hides half the divinity from my ravished sight?'—'People cannot always be in the same humour, Sir Frederick,' answered she. 'Yours should be always gay,' rejoined he, 'if once you were mine, you should do nothing but love, and laugh, and dress, and eat, and drink, and be adored. Speak, then, my angel,' continued he; 'when shall be the happy day? Say, it shall be to-morrow?'

Here it was not in her power to retain any part of her former gravity. 'Bless me!' cried she, 'to-morrow!—What, marry to-morrow? Sure, Sir Frederick, you cannot think of such a thing! Why, I have not so much as dreamt of it!'—'No matter,' answered he; 'you will have golden dreams enough in my embraces; defer, then, the mutual bliss no longer—let it be to-morrow.'—'You are certainly mad, Sir Frederick!' said she; 'but if I were enough so too, as really to consent to such a hasty nuptial, where, pray, are the preparations for it?'

'Oh, Madam, as to that,' resumed he, 'people of quality always marry in a deshabille; a new coach—chariot—servants—liveries—and rich cloaths for ourselves—may all be got ready before we make our publick appearance at court, or at church.'—'But there are other things to be considered,' said Miss Betsy, laughing outright. 'None of any importance,' replied he: 'I will jointure you in my whole estate; the writings shall be drawn to-night, and presented to you with the wedding-ring.'

'This would be wonderful dispatch indeed!' said she; 'but, Sir, I have two brothers whom I must first consult on the affair.' Sir Frederick seemed extremely struck at these words; but recovering himself as soon as he was able, 'I thought, Madam,' cried he, 'you were entirely at your own disposal.'—'I am so, Sir,' answered she; 'but I love my brothers, and will do nothing without their approbation.'—'Ah, cruel fair!' cried he, 'little do you know the delicacy of my passion; I must owe you wholly to yourself: your brothers, no doubt, will favour my desires, but it is your own free-will alone can make me blessed. Tell me not, then, of brothers,' continued he, 'but generously say you will be mine.'

Miss Betsy was about to make some reply, when word was brought that a servant of the elder Mr. Thoughtless desired to speak with her: on which she arose hastily, and went to the top of the stair-case, to hear what message he had to deliver to her; and was pleasingly surprized when he told her that his master desired the favour of her company to supper immediately at his house. As she never had an invitation there before, she was at a loss to guess what could have caused so sudden an alteration: she asked the fellow what company was there; he told her, only Mr. Francis and another gentleman, whose name he knew not, but believed they wanted her on some affairs concerning the late Mr. Goodman, because, as he was waiting, he heard them often mention that gentleman and Lady Mellasin.

Though she could not conceive on what purpose she was to be consulted on any thing relating to Mr. Goodman, yet she was extremely glad that any occasion had happened to induce her brother to send for her to his house; and ordered the man to acquaint his master that she would not fail to wait upon him with as much expedition as a chair could bring her.

On her return to Sir Frederick, she told him she had received a summons from her elder brother, which she was under an indispensable necessity of complying with; so desired he would defer, till another opportunity, any farther discourse on the subject they had been talking of. Having said this, she called hastily for her fan and gloves, and at the same time gave orders for a chair. Sir Frederick seemed very much confounded; but, finding that any attempt to detain her would be impracticable, took his leave, saying, 'You are going to your brother's, Madam?' To which she answering, she was so, 'I beg then, Madam,' rejoined he, 'that you will not mention any thing concerning me, or the passion I have for you, till I have the honour of seeing you again. Be assured,' continued he, 'I have mighty reasons for this request; and such as, I flatter myself, you will allow to be just.' He said no more; but, perceiving she was ready, led her down stairs; and having put her into a chair, went into that which waited for himself, little satisfied with the success of his visit.

Though the motives on which Miss Betsy's company was desired in so much hurry, by a brother who had never before once invited her, may seem strange, yet as that incident was but the consequence of other matters which yet remain untold, regularity requires they should first be discussed.