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CHAPTER XII

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Is only the prelude to greater matters

It might be justly reckoned a piece of impertinence to take up the reader's time with a repetition of the bill of fare of the entertainment made on the above occasion; it will be sufficient to say that every thing was extremely elegant; that it was composed of the best chosen dishes, which were all served up in the greatest order; and that there was as great a variety of them as consisted with the table of a private gentleman, without incurring the censure of profuseness.

Such as it was, however, the noble lord seemed highly delighted with it; he praised every thing that came before him, almost to a degree of flattery; and took all opportunities of being yet more lavish in his encomiums on the beauty, wit, and elegance of the fair provider.

Mr. Munden was transported within himself at the satisfaction his patron expressed; and his wife also felt a secret joy on hearing the fine things said of her, which sparkled in her eyes, and gave an additional lustre to all her charms.

This nobleman, though past what is called the prime of life, was far from having arrived at those years which bring on decay; he was, besides, of a sanguine, vigorous complexion—had a very graceful person—a fine address—a great affluence of wit—and something so soft and engaging in his manner of behaviour to the ladies, as rendered him still a prodigious favourite with them.

He was too good a judge of what is amiable in womankind, not to discover immediately the many perfections Mrs. Munden was mistress of: he felt the whole force of her charms; and as he loved beauty more for his own sake than for that of the possessor, and never liked without desiring to enjoy, his eyes told her, at every glance, that he languished for an opportunity of declaring in a different manner the sentiments he had for her.

Mrs. Munden perfectly understood the language in which she found herself addressed: but, had she been less learned in it, an explanation soon presented itself.

Her husband, stepping to the head of the stair-case to give some orders to a servant, the peer took hold of one of her hands, and kissing it with the utmost raptures, 'Divine creature,' cried he, 'how unjust is fortune! that a face and person so formed for universal admiration, is not placed in a higher and more conspicuous sphere of life!'

She had not time to make any reply—Mr. Munden returned that moment—nor had the noble lord the least opportunity, while he staid, of speaking one word to her that was improper for a husband to be witness of.

He prolonged the time of his departure to a greater length than could have been expected from a person whose high office in the state permitted him much fewer hours of leisure than those in middling stations of life are happy enough to enjoy: when he went away, he assured both the husband and the wife that he quitted them with the utmost reluctance, and that he had never passed a day more agreeably in his whole life.

Mr. Munden was now in such high good-humour, that he no sooner found himself alone with his fair wife, than he took her in his arms, and kissed her very heartily—a favour not common with him since the first week of their marriage. He told her, moreover, she had behaved like an angel—that nothing could be more elegant than the dinner she had prepared—and that he could not have expected such a variety of covers, and so fine a dessert, for the money he gave her for that purpose.

'I think myself very happy,' answered she, 'that you approve so well of my management: but I fancy,' continued she with a smile, 'you will have some better opinion of my œconomy when I tell you that it cost less than you imagine.'

'Is it possible!' cried he, in a pleasing surprize: 'I rather thought you had been kind enough to have added somewhat out of your own pocket, to render the entertainment so perfectly compleat.'

'No, I assure you,' resumed she; 'there remains no less than these three guineas of the sum you allowed me for this day's expence.' With these words, she laid the pieces she had mentioned on the table, which he was so ungenerous as to take immediately up and put it into his own pocket.

'Nay, Mr. Munden,' said she, while he was putting up the money, 'this is not dealing altogether so fairly by me as I have done by you: I expected that the trouble I have been at, deserved, at least, to be rewarded with what I have saved by my frugality.'

'Take care, my dear,' said he, laughing, 'how you lessen the merit of what you have done; I am willing to take it as an obligation to me; and, sure, you value an obligation to me at a much higher rate than three pieces.'

Though all this passed on both sides in a jocose way, yet, as it served to shew the niggardliness of Mr. Munden's temper, cannot be supposed to have increased either the love or respect his wife had for him.

She made, however, no other answer to what he had last said, than to tell him she found he was fashionable enough to suffer virtue to be it's own reward; and then turned the conversation, and continued in the same chearful humour as before any mention had been made of the three guineas. Mr. Munden did not go abroad the whole evening: but whether he chose to sup at home for the pleasure of enjoying his wife's company, or for the sake of partaking of the remainder of those dainties which had been so highly praised at dinner, is a point which, perhaps, might admit of some dispute.

It is certain, indeed, the yet unsubdued vanity of this young lady made her feel so much innate satisfaction in the admiration their noble visitor had expressed of her person and accomplishments, as gave a double sprightliness to her conversation that whole evening; and might, perhaps, render her more than ordinarily lovely in the eyes of her husband.

It is very far from being an improbability that some people may be apt to imagine she built a little too much on the veracity of the praises bestowed upon her by that nobleman: but those who think this way, will be convinced of their error when they shall presently find how far her conjectures were justified in this point.

She was sitting the next morning in a careless posture at one of the windows that looked into the street, ruminating sometimes on one thing, and sometimes on another, when she could not help observing a fellow on the other side of the way, who kept walking backwards and forwards, before the house, which, though he frequently passed thirty or forty paces, yet he took care never to lose sight of.

This seemed a little odd to her, as she sat there a considerable time, and the man still continued on his post: she doubted not but that he wanted to speak with some one or other of her family, but had not the least notion his business was with herself.

Being told breakfast waited for her, she went into her dressing-room, where she usually took it, and thought no farther of the man till Mr. Munden was dressed and gone out; but in less than a minute after he was so, she received intelligence from her footman, that there was a person had a letter for her, and said he would deliver it into no hands but her own.

On this she ran immediately down stairs; and found, to her great surprize, that he was no other than the fellow that she had seen loitering so long about the house. 'I am ordered, Madam,' said he, 'to give you this;' and at the same time presented her with a letter. 'From whom does it come?' demanded she. 'I am ignorant,' answered he, 'both of the person who sent it, and the business it contains: my orders were only to deliver it into your own hands;' and with these words went away with all the speed he could.

It must be confessed, a married woman ought not to have received a letter brought her in this manner, and without knowing whence it came: but curiosity prevailed above discretion; and she, hastily opening it, found it contained these lines.

'To Mrs. Munden.

Loveliest of your sex,

As not to adore you would be the greatest proof of insensibility, so not to wish, and even attempt every thing consistent with the character of a man of honour, for the obtaining some reward for that adoration, would be the most stupid piece of self-denial, becoming only of a stoick, or one more dead to all the joys of life. The force of your charms has made the conquest of a heart which only waits a favourable opportunity of throwing itself at your feet, not altogether without hope, in spite of the circumstances you are in, of being, in some measure, acceptable to you; at least it shall be so, if the most ardent and perfect passion that ever was, joined with the power of rendering you all manner of services, can give it merit in your eyes.

A very short time, I flatter myself, will explain to you what at present may seem a mystery: benignant Love will furnish the most faithful of his votaries with the means of declaring himself at full; and the flame with which he is inspired, instruct him also to give you such testimonies of his everlasting attachment, as the good understanding you are mistress of you will not permit you to reject; till when, I only beseech you to think, with some share of tenderness, on your concealed adorer.'

Utterly impossible is it to describe the situation of Mrs. Munden's mind, after having several times read over this epistle, and well examined the purport of it: she doubted not, one moment, but that it was dictated by the noble lord she had seen the day before, and whose behaviour to her had, in some degree, corresponded with the sentiments contained in it. If her vanity was delighted with the conquest she had made, her pride was shocked at that assurance which the daring lover seemed to flatter himself with of gaining her; and her virtue much more alarmed at the attempts which his rank and fortune might embolden him to make for that end.

At first she was resolved to shew the letter to her husband the moment he came home, and acquaint him with her sentiments on the matter, that he might take proper precautions to prevent her from being exposed to any future attacks from this dangerous nobleman.

But, on more mature deliberation, her mind changed: Mr. Munden was, at present, in tolerable good humour with her—she was willing, if possible, to preserve it in him; and, as she could not but think an information of this kind would give him a great deal of uneasiness, so she had also reason to apprehend the effects of it might, in some measure, innocent as she was, fall upon herself.

He had never yet discovered the least emotions of jealousy; and she knew not what suspicions her having received such a letter from one person might raise in him in relation to others. 'He may, possibly,' said she to herself, 'look upon every man that visits me as an invader of his right; and, consequently, I shall be debarred from all conversation with the sex.

'Besides,' continued she, 'I am not certain that this letter was sent me by the noble lord, or that he has in reality entertained any designs to the prejudice of my virtue; there is, indeed, a strong probability of it, even by his behaviour towards me yesterday: yet it may not be so; appearances often deceive us; and I might take that for the effect of love which proceeded only from complaisance; but, whatever his intentions are, it would certainly be the extremest folly and madness in me to inflame Mr. Munden against a person on whom his interest so much depends.

'It is no matter, therefore,' went she still on, 'whether it be the noble lord in question, or any other person who presumes to think so meanly of me as to address me in this audacious manner; it is, doubtless, in my power to keep out of the way of receiving any farther insults from him; and I am sufficiently capable myself of being guardian of my own honour, without disturbing a husband's peace about it.'

Thus ended the debate she had with herself on this occasion: she committed her letter to the flames; and resolved, that if ever the author was hardy enough to discover himself, to treat him with all the contempt due to him from affronted virtue.

The Greatest Regency Romance Novels

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