Читать книгу The Greatest Regency Romance Novels - Maria Edgeworth - Страница 90

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Contains the catastrophe of Lady Mellasin's and her daughter Flora's adventures while on this side the globe

While this unhappy little family were in their concealment, each of them set their whole wits to work to find some means by which Lady Mellasin might be extricated from that terrible dilemma she had brought herself into.

But as this was a thing in it's very nature, as affairs had been managed, morally impossible to be accomplished, all their endeavours to that purpose only served to shew them the extreme vanity of the attempt, and consequently to render them more miserable.

Despair, at length, and the near prospect of approaching want, so humbled the once haughty spirit of Lady Mellasin, that she resolved on writing to Mr. Edward Goodman—to make use of all her rhetorick to soothe him into forgiveness for the troubles she had occasioned him—and, in fine, to petition relief from the very man whom she had made use of the most villainous arts to prejudice.

The contents of her letter to that much-injured gentleman were as follows.

'To Edward Goodman, Esq.

Sir,

Appearances are so much against me that I scarce dare say I am innocent, though I know myself so, as to any intention of doing you injustice: I cannot, however, forbear giving you a short sketch of the imposition which has been practiced upon me, and in my name attempted to be put on you.

The will, which has occasioned this long contest between us, was brought me by a person who told me he had drawn it up exactly according to my late husband's instructions, the very evening before he died; the subscribing witnesses gave me the same assurance; and also added, that Mr. Goodman was so well convinced of my integrity, and the wrong he had done me by suspecting it, that had he lived only to the next morning, he had resolved to send for me home, and be reconciled to me in the face of the world: so that, if the thing was a piece of forgery, these men are only guilty—I am entirely free from any share in it.

But as these proceedings, which I have unhappily been prevailed upon to countenance, have given you a great deal of trouble and expence, I sincerely ask your pardon for it: this is all the atonement I can make to Heaven for offences more immediately my own.

I am very sensible, notwithstanding, that, by what I have done, I have not only forfeited my claim to such part of the effects of Mr. Goodman as appertain to the widow of an eminent and wealthy citizen, but, likewise, all my pretensions to the friendship and favour of the person he has made his heir: yet, Sir, however guilty I may seem to you, or how great my faults in reality may have been, I cannot help being of opinion that, when you remember I was once the wife of an uncle, whose memory you have so much cause to value, you will think the name and character I have borne, ought to defend me from publick infamy, parish-alms, and beggary.

Reduced as I am, it would ill become me to make any stipulations, or lay a tax on the goodness I am necessitated to implore. No, Sir; as I can now demand nothing, so, also, I can hope for nothing but from your compassion and generosity; and to these two amiable qualities alone shall ascribe whatever provision you shall think fit to make for me out of that abundance I was once in full possession of.

I shall add no more, than to intreat you will consider, with some portion of attention and good-nature, on what I have lately been, and what I at present am, the most unfortunate, and most forlorn of womankind,

M. Mellasin Goodman.

P.S. My daughter Flora, the innocent partner of my griefs and sufferings, will have the honour to deliver this to you, and, I hope, return with a favourable answer.'

Lady Mellasin chose to send Miss Flora with this letter, as believing her agreeable person, and manner of behaviour, would have a greater effect on that youthful heart of the person it was addressed to, than could have been expected from the formal and affected gravity of Mrs. Prinks.

It is not unlikely, too, but that she might flatter herself with the hopes of greater advantages by her daughter's going in person to Mr. Goodman's, than those which her letter had petitioned for. She had often heard and read of men whose resentment had been softened and melted into tenderness on the appearance of a lovely object: as the poet somewhere or other expresses it—

'Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray;

Who can tread sure on the smooth, slipp'ry way?'

Miss Flora herself was also very far from being displeased at going on this errand; and as it was not proper for her to dress in the manner she would have done on making a visit to any other person, it cost her some time, before her setting out, to equip herself in such a deshabille as she thought would be most genteel and become her best.

She had the good fortune to find Mr. Goodman at home, and was immediately introduced to him. He was a little surprized at a visit made him by a young lady whom he had never seen before; but not enough to prevent him from receiving her with the utmost complaisance. He saluted her, seated her in a chair, and then asked her what commands she had to favour him with: on which, taking out the letter, and giving it to him, 'This, Sir,' said she, with a deep sigh, 'will inform you of the request that brings me here.'

Mr. Goodman read it hastily over; but, while he was doing so, could not forbear shaking his head several times; yet spoke nothing till after a pause of some minutes. 'Madam,' said he, 'as this is a business which I could not expect to have heard of, I must confess myself altogether unprepared how to proceed in it. If Lady Mellasin,' added he, 'will give herself the trouble to send in three or four days, she may depend on an answer from me.'

The coldness of these words, and the distant air he assumed while speaking them, so widely different from that with which he had accosted this lady on her first entrance, made her presently see she had nothing to hope from this embassy on her own account, and made her also tremble for that of her mother.

As he urged her not to stay, nor even gave the least hint that he was desirous of her doing so, she rose, and, with a most dejected air, took her leave; telling him, in going out, that she should not fail of acquainting Lady Mellasin with his commands; who, she doubted not, would be punctual in obeying them.

Mr. Goodman was, indeed, too well acquainted with the character of Miss Flora to be capable of receiving any impression from the charms nature had bestowed upon her, even though they had been a thousand times more brilliant than in effect they were, and she had not been the daughter of a woman who had rendered herself so justly hateful to him.

Lady Mellasin was shocked to the very soul at being told the reception her daughter had met with; and could not help looking upon it as a very bad omen of her future success. She doubted but by his saying that he must have time for deliberation, he meant that he would do nothing in this point, without having first consulted his friends; and she had no reason to expect that any of those he conversed with would give counsel in her favour.

To be reduced from a state of opulence and respect to one of poverty, contempt, and wretchedness, is terrible indeed! but much more so when accompanied with a consciousness of having deserved, by our vices and ill conduct, all the misfortunes we complain of.

Lady Mellasin having no pleasing reflection of having done her duty in any one point of life, it would not have been strange if, thus destitute of comfort from within, all succour from without, she had yielded herself to the last despair.

She, nevertheless, amidst all the distraction of her thoughts, still continued to testify a resolution seldom to be found among women of her abandoned principles; never departing from this maxim, that, in the worst of events, nothing was to be neglected. On the third day she sent Mrs. Prinks to wait upon Mr. Goodman for his answer; having experienced the little effect her daughter's presence had produced.

It is a thing well worth the observation of all degrees of people, that the truly generous never keep long in suspense the persons they think proper objects of their bounty. A favour that costs too much pains in obtaining, loses great part of it's value—it palls upon the mind of the receiver, and looks more like being extorted than bestowed.

Mr. Cowley, though a man whose great merit, one would think, should have set him above the necessity of making any request of a pecuniary nature, was certainly obliged, sometimes, to solicitations that were very uneasy to him, and drew from him this emphatick exclamation—

'If there's a man, ye gods, I ought to hate,

Attendance and dependance be his fate!'

It soon occurred to Mr. Goodman in what manner it would best become him to act towards this unhappy woman; and also what conditions ought to be stipulated on her part. He had been told, both by the lawyer and the two Mr. Thoughtlesses, that it was his late uncle's intention that she should not be left without a decent provision; and being willing to conform, as much as possible, to all the desires of a person whom he had always esteemed as a parent, he passed by the injury which, since his death, she had attempted to do to himself; and, within the time he had mentioned to Miss Flora, wrote an answer to the request in the following terms.

'To Lady Mellasin Goodman.

Madam,

Though you cannot but be sensible that your late base attempt to invalidate my dear uncle's will, excludes you from receiving any benefit from it; yet, as I am determined, as far as in my power, to make the example of that excellent man the rule of all my actions, I shall not carry my resentment, for the injustice you have done me, beyond what he expressed for those much greater injuries he sustained by your infidelity and ingratitude. It was not his intention you should starve; nor is it my desire you should do so.

I am willing, Madam, to allow you a pension of one hundred pounds per annum, to be quarterly paid into whose hands soever you shall think fit to appoint for that purpose; but it must be on condition that you retire forthwith, and pass the whole remainder of your days in some remote part of the kingdom. The farther you remove from a town where your ill conduct has rendered you so obnoxious, the better.

This, Madam, is what I insist upon; and is, indeed, no more than what your own safety demands from you. A very strict search is making after your accomplices; and if they, or any of them, shall happen to be found, it will be in vain for you to flatter yourself with escaping that punishment which the offended laws inflict on crimes of this nature: nor would it be in my power to shield you from that fate which even the meanest and most abject of those concerned with you must suffer.

As I should be extremely sorry to see this, I beg you, for your own sake, to be speedy in your resolution, which, as soon as you inform me, I shall act accordingly. I am, yours, &c.

E. Goodman.'

This he ordered to be delivered to any one who should say they came from Lady Mellasin; and Mrs. Prinks accordingly received it.

Lady Mellasin, in the miserable circumstances to which she had reduced herself, was transported to find she should not be entirely without support. As for her being obliged to quit London, she was not in the least shocked at it, as there was no possibility for her even to appear publickly in it; and she was rather desirous, than averse, to be out of a place which could no longer afford her those pleasures and amusements she had once so much indulged herself in the enjoyment of.

But when she considered on her banishment, and ran over in her mind what part of England she should make choice of for her asylum, the whole kingdom appeared a desert to her, when driven from the gaieties of the court and capital: she therefore resolved to go farther, and enter into a new scene of life, which might be more likely to obliterate the memory of the former. She had heard much talk of Jamaica—that it was a rich and opulent place—that the inhabitants thought of little else but how to divert themselves in the best manner the country afforded, and that they were not too strict in their notions either as to honour or religion—that reputation was a thing littler regarded among them: so that, in case the occasion that had brought her thither should happen to be discovered, she would not find herself in the less estimation.

She, therefore, hesitated not to write a second letter to Mr. Goodman, acquainting him with her desire to go to that plantation; and hinting to him that, if it would be giving him too great a trouble to remit the quarterly payments he mentioned, she should take it as a particular favour if he would be pleased to bestow on her such a sum as he should think proper, in lieu of the annuity he had offered.

Mr. Goodman was extremely pleased with this proposal; and several letters having passed between them concerning the conditions, he agreed to give her two hundred pounds in specie, to provide herself with sufficient necessaries for the voyage, and eight hundred more to be deposited in the hands of the captain of the ship, to be paid on her arrival; with which she appeared very well satisfied, and gave him the most solemn assurances never to trouble him again.

But Miss Flora was all distraction at this event: the thoughts of leaving dear London were equally irksome to her with those of death itself. Fain would she have staid behind; but what could she do? Without reputation—without friends—without money—there was no remedy but to share her mother's fortune. Mrs. Prinks also, who, by living so long with Lady Mellasin, known to be in all her secrets, and agent in her iniquitous proceedings, could have no character to recommend her to any other service, continued with the only person she, indeed, was fit to live with; and they all embarked together on board a ship that was then ready to sail.

All Mr. Goodman's friends congratulated him on the service he had done his country, in ridding it of three persons who, by perverting the talents Heaven had bestowed upon them, to the most vile purpose, were capable of doing the greatest mischiefs to the more innocent and unwary. It was on this occasion that he made the invitation before-mentioned.