Читать книгу The Greatest Regency Romance Novels - Maria Edgeworth - Страница 84

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Will not let the reader fall asleep

I believe the reader will easily perceive, that it was owing to the apprehensions of Miss Betsy's fluctuating disposition, that her brothers testified so great an impatience for bringing the affair of her marriage to a conclusion; and also, that it was to confirm her in her resolution, and reconcile her to the promise she had made, that Lady Trusty had kept her with her that whole day.

The arguments urged by that worthy lady, the obliging and chearful manner in which they were delivered, joined to the facetious and entertaining remarks which Sir Ralph had occasionally made, had indeed a great effect, for the present, on the too wavering and uncertain mind they were intended to fix.

Though she was far from expecting Mr. Munden could come that evening with her brothers, or even from imagining he could as yet be informed of what had passed in his favour, yet she was not displeased when she saw him enter; and if she looked a little confounded, it was rather to be attributed to modesty than anger.

That gentleman having made his first compliments to Sir Ralph and Lady Trusty, on his being presented to them, flew directly to Miss Betsy, and expressed his sense of the happiness her brothers had made him hope, in terms the most passionate that words would form. She received what he said to her, on this occasion, with a sweetness which must have infinitely charmed a heart truly sensible of the tender passion, that even Mr. Munden, though less delicate than he pretended, could not but be greatly affected with it.

In fine, the behaviour of both towards each other, gave great contentment to all the friends of Miss Betsy; and her elder brother, for form's sake, recapitulating the proposal of Mr. Munden, concerning her settlement and jointure, Sir Ralph gave that approbation in publick which he before had done in private: the intended bridegroom and Mr. Thoughtless agreed to go the next morning to Mr. Markland the lawyer, and give him the necessary instructions for drawing up the marriage articles.

They broke not up company till the night was pretty far advanced; and Mr. Thoughtless not having his own coach there, a hackney set them all down at their respective habitations.

Thus far all went extremely well: the parties chiefly concerned seemed perfectly satisfied with each other, and with themselves, for the agreement they had mutually entered into; and there appeared not the least likelihood of any future difficulty that would arise to interrupt, or delay the consummation of the so much desired nuptials.

Miss Betsy had not as yet had time to meditate on what she had given her promise to perform: the joy she found her compliance had given all her friends—the endearing things they said to her upon the occasion, and the transport Mr. Munden had expressed, on seeing himself so near the end of all his wishes—had kept up her spirits; and she imagined, while in their presence, that her inclination had dictated the consent her lips had uttered.

But when she was alone, shut up in her own apartments—when she no longer received the kind caresses of her smiling friends, nor the flattering raptures of her future husband—all the lively ideas which their conversation and manner of behaviour towards her had inspired, vanished at once, and gave place to fancies, which must justly bear the name of splenetic.

'I must now look upon myself,' said she, 'as already married: I have promised—it is too late to think of retracting. A few days hence, I suppose, will oblige me to the performance of my promise; and I may say, with Monimia in the play—

"I have bound up for myself a weight of cares;

And how the burden will be borne, none knows."

'I wonder,' continued she, 'what can make the generality of women so fond of marrying? It looks to me like an infatuation; just as if it were not a greater pleasure to be courted, complimented, admired, and addressed, by a number, than be confined to one, who, from a slave, becomes a master; and, perhaps, uses his authority in a manner disagreeable enough.

'And yet it is expected from us. One has no sooner left off one's bib and apron, than people cry—"Miss will soon be married!"—and this man, and that man, is presently picked out for a husband. Mighty ridiculous! they want to deprive us of all the pleasures of life, just when one begins to have a relish for them.'

In this humour she went to bed; nor did sleep present her with images more pleasing: sometimes she imagined herself standing on the brink of muddy, troubled waters; at others, that she was wandering through deserts, overgrown with thorns and briars, or seeking to find a passage through some ruined building, whose tottering roof seemed ready to fall upon her head, and crush her to pieces.

These gloomy representations, amidst her broken slumbers, when vanished, left behind them an uncommon heaviness upon her waking mind: she rose, but it was only to throw herself into a chair, where she sat for a considerable time, like one quite stupid and dead to all sensations of every kind.

At last, remembering that they were all to dine at her brother's that day by appointment, she rouzed herself as well as she was able, and started from the posture she had been in; 'I see I am at the end of all my happiness,' said she, 'and that my whole future life is condemned to be a scene of disquiet; but there is no resisting destiny—they will have it so; I have promised, and must submit.'

On opening a little cabinet, in which she always kept those things she most valued, in order to take out some ornaments to put on that day, the picture of Mr. Trueworth stared her in the face. 'Ah!' said she, taking it up, and looking attentively upon it, 'if my brother Frank and Lady Trusty had been in town when the original of this made his addresses to me, I should then, as now, have been compelled to have given my hand. It is likely, too, I should have yielded with the same reluctance. Blinded by my vanity—led by mistaken pride—I had not considered the value I ought to have set upon his love. He had not then done any thing for me more than any other man, who pretended courtship to me, would have done. I know not how it is, I did not then think him half so agreeable as I now find he is. What a sweetness is there in these eyes!' cried she, still looking on the picture. 'What an air of dignity in every feature!—wit—virtue—bravery—generosity—and every amiable quality that can adorn mankind, methinks are here comprized.

'But to what purpose do I now see all these perfections in him?' went she on. 'He is the right of another; he has given himself to one, who knows better than my unhappy self to do justice to such exalted merit: he thinks no more of me; and I must henceforth think no more of him!'

She ended these words with a deep sigh, and some tears; then laid the picture up, and endeavoured to compose herself as well as she could.

She was but just dressed when Mr. Munden came to wait on her, and conduct her to her brother's, where they were to dine: he told her he had been with the elder Mr. Thoughtless at the lawyer's, about the writings; 'So that now, my angel!' said he, 'I flatter myself that my days of languishment are near a period.'

He took the freedom of accompanying these words with a pretty warm embrace.—'Forbear, Mr. Munden,' cried she, with the most forbidding coldness; 'you have yet no right to liberties of this nature.'

'Cruel and unkind Miss Betsy!' resumed he; 'must nothing, then, be allowed to love, and all be left to law?' He then went on with some discourses of the passion he had for her, and the joy he felt in the thoughts of his approaching happiness: to all which she made very short replies; till at last it came into her head to interrupt him in the midst of a very tender exclamation, by saying, 'Mr. Munden, I forgot to mention one thing to you; but it is not yet too late—I suppose you design to keep a coach?'

This a little startled him; and, looking upon her with a very grave air—'Madam,' said he, 'you are sensible my estate will not permit me to oblige you in this point.'—'And can you imagine I will ever marry to trudge on foot?' cried she.

'I should be both sorry and ashamed,' replied he, 'to see you do that; but there are other conveniences, which will, I hope, content you, till fortune puts it in my power to do otherwise.'

He then reminded her of the expectations she had frequently heard him make mention of, concerning his hopes of soon obtaining both an honourable and lucrative employment; and assured her, that as soon as he had procured a grant of it, he would set up an equipage accordingly.

But this did not at all satisfy her; she insisted on having a coach directly, and gave him some hints, as if she would not marry without one; which very much nettling him, he desired she would remember her promise, which was absolutely given, without the least mention of a coach being made.

'I would not have you,' said she, 'insist too much on that promise, lest I should be provoked to give you the same answer Leonora, in the play, gives to her importunate lover—

"That boasted promise ties me not to time;

And bonds without a date, they say, are void."

Mr. Munden could not now contain his temper—he told her he could not have expected such treatment after his long services, and her favourable acceptance of them—that he thought he merited, at least, a shew of kindness from her; and, in fine, that she did not act towards him as became a woman of honour.

This was a reproach which the spirit of Miss Betsy was too high to bear; she, blushing with indignation, and casting the most disdainful look upon him, was about to make some answer, which, perhaps, in the humour he then was, would have occasioned him to retort in such a manner as might have broken off all the measures which had been so long concerting, if a sudden interruption had not prevented it.

Mr. Francis Thoughtless, not knowing anything of Mr. Munden's being there, and happening to pass that way, called on his sister, to know if she was ready to go to his brother's, it being near dinner-time; he immediately perceived, by both their countenances, that some brulée had happened between them; and, on his asking, in a gay manner, the cause of it, Mr. Munden made no scruple to relate the sum of what had passed. The brother of Miss Betsy, though in his heart very much vexed with her, affected to treat what Mr. Munden had said, as a bagatelle; and, calling to his sister's footman to get a hackney-coach to the door, made them both go with him to his brother's; saying, they would there adjust every thing.