A Month now passed in the ordinary occupations and amusements of a country
life, during which both Lady Moseley and Jane manifested a desire to keep
up the deanery acquaintance, that surprised Emily a little, who had ever
seen her mother shrink from communications with those whose breeding
subjected her own delicacy, to the little shocks she could but ill
conceal. In Jane this desire was still more inexplicable; for Jane had, in
a decided way very common to her, avowed her disgust of the manners of
their new associates at the commencement of the acquaintance; and yet Jane
would now even quit her own society for that of Miss Jarvis, especially if
Colonel Egerton happened to be of the party The innocence of Emily
prevented her scanning the motives for the conduct of her sister; and she
set seriously about an examination into her own deportment to find the
latent cause, in order, wherever an opportunity should offer, to evince
her regret, had it been her misfortune, to have erred by the tenderness of
her own manner.
For a short time the colonel seemed at a loss where to make his choice;
but a few days determined him, and Jane was evidently the favorite. It is
true, that in the presence of the Jarvis ladies he was more guarded and
general in his attentions; but as John, from a motive of charity, had
taken the direction of the captain's sports into his own hands; and as
they were in the frequent habit of meeting at the Hall preparatory to
their morning excursion, the colonel suddenly became a sportsman. The
ladies would often accompany them in their morning excursions; and as
John would certainly be a baronet, and the colonel might not if his uncle
married, he had the comfort of being sometimes ridden, as well as of
riding.
One morning, having all prepared for an excursion on horseback, as they
stood at the door ready to mount, Francis Ives drove up in his father's
gig, and for a moment arrested the party. Francis was a favorite with the
whole Moseley family, and their greetings were warm and sincere. He found
they meant to take the rectory in their ride, and insisted that they
should proceed. "Clara would take a seat with him." As he spoke, the cast
of his countenance brought the color into the cheeks of his intended; she
suffered herself, however, to be handed into the vacant seat in the gig,
and they moved on. John, who was at the bottom good-natured, and loved
both Francis and Clara very sincerely, soon set Captain Jarvis and his
sister what he called "scrub racing," and necessity, in some measure,
compelled the rest of the equestrians to hard riding, in order to keep up
with the sports.
"That will do, that will do," cried John, casting his eye back, and
perceiving they had lost sight of the gig, and nearly so of Colonel
Egerton and Jane, "why you carry it off like a jockey, captain; better
than any amateur I have ever seen, unless indeed it be your sister."
The lady encouraged by his commendations, whipped on, followed by her
brother and sister at half speed.
"There, Emily," said John, quietly dropping by her side "I see no reason
you and I should break our necks, to show the blood of our horses. Now do
you know I think we are going to have a wedding in the family soon?"
Emily looked at him in amazement.
"Frank has got a living; I saw it the moment he drove up. He came in like
somebody. Yes, I dare say he has calculated the tithes already a dozen
times."
John was right. The Earl of Bolton had, unsolicited, given him the desired
living of his own parish; and Francis was at the moment pressing the
blushing Clara to fix the day that was to put a period to his long
probation. Clara, who had not a particle of coquetry about her, promised
to be his as soon as he was inducted, an event that was to take place the
following week; and then followed those delightful little arrangements and
plans with which youthful hope is so fond of filling up the void of life.
"Doctor," said John, as he came out of the rectory to assist Clara from
the gig, "the parson here is a careful driver; see, he has not turned a
hair."
He kissed the burning cheek of his sister as she touched the ground, and
whispered significantly.
"You need tell me nothing, my dear--I know all--I consent."
Mrs. Ives folded her future daughter to her bosom; and the benevolent
smile of the good rector, together with the kind and affectionate manner
of her sisters, assured Clara the approaching nuptials were anticipated,
as a matter of course. Colonel Egerton offered his compliments to Francis
on his preferment to the living, with the polish of high breeding, and not
without an appearance of interest; and Emily thought him for the first
time as handsome as he was generally reputed to be. The ladies undertook
to say something civil in their turn, and John put the captain, by a hint,
on the same track.
"You are quite lucky, sir," said the captain, "in getting so good a living
with so little trouble; I wish you joy of it with all my heart: Mr.
Moseley tells me it is a capital thing now for a gentleman of your
profession. For my part. I prefer a scarlet coat to a black one, but
there must be parsons you know, or how should we get married or say
grace?"
Francis thanked him for his good wishes, and Egerton paid a handsome
compliment to the liberality of the earl; "he doubted not he found that
gratification which always attends a disinterested act;" and Jane
applauded the sentiment with a smile.
The baronet, when he was made acquainted with the situation of affairs,
promised Francis that no unnecessary delay should intervene, and the
marriage was happily arranged for the following week. Lady Moseley, when
she retired to the drawing-room after dinner, commenced a recital of the
ceremony and company to be invited on the occasion. Etiquette and the
decencies of life were not only the forte, but the fault of this lady; and
she had gone on to the enumeration of about the fortieth personage in the
ceremonials, before Clara found courage to say, that "Mr. Ives and myself
both wish to be married at the altar, and to proceed to Bolton Rectory
immediately after the ceremony." To this her mother warmly objected; and
argument and respectful remonstrance had followed each other for some
time, before Clara submitted in silence, with difficulty restraining her
tears. This appeal to the better feelings of the mother triumphed; and the
love of parade yielded to love of her offspring. Clara, with a lightened
heart, kissed and thanked her, and accompanied by Emily left the room;
Jane had risen to follow them, but catching a glimpse of the tilbury of
Colonel Egerton she reseated herself.
He had merely driven over at the earnest entreaties of the ladies to beg
Miss Jane would accept a seat back with him; "they had some little project
on foot, and could not proceed without her assistance."
Mrs. Wilson looked gravely at her sister, as she smiled acquiescence to
his wishes; and the daughter, who but the minute before had forgotten
there was any other person in the world but Clara, flew for her hat and
shawl, in order, as he said to herself, that the politeness of Colonel
Egerton might not keep him waiting. Lady Moseley resumed her seat by the
side of her sister with an air of great complacency, as she returned from
the window, after having seen her daughter off. For some time each was
occupied quietly with her needle, when Mrs. Wilson suddenly broke the
silence by saying:
"Who is Colonel Egerton?"
Lady Moseley looked up for a moment in amazement, but recollecting
herself, answered,
"The nephew and heir of Sir Edgar Egerton, sister."
This was spoken in a rather positive way, as if it were unanswerable; yet
as there was nothing harsh in the reply, Mrs. Wilson continued,
"Do you not think him attentive to Jane?"
Pleasure sparkled in the still brilliant eyes of Lady Moseley, as she
exclaimed--
"Do you think so?"
"I do; and you will pardon me if I say improperly so. I think you were
wrong in suffering Jane to go with him this afternoon."
"Why improperly, Charlotte? If Colonel Egerton is polite enough to show
Jane such attentions, should I not be wrong in rudely rejecting them?"
"The rudeness of refusing a request that is improper to grant is a very
venial offence. I confess I think it improper to allow any attentions to
be forced on us that may subject us to disagreeable consequences; but the
attentions of Colonel Egerton are becoming marked, Anne."
"Do you for a moment doubt their being honorable, or that he dares to
trifle with a daughter of Sir Edward Moseley?"
"I should hope not, certainly, although it may be well to guard even
against such a misfortune. But I am of opinion it is quite as important to
know whether he is _worthy_ to be her husband as it is to know that he is
in a situation to become so."
"On what points, Charlotte, would you wish to be more assured? You know
his birth and probable fortune--you see his manners and disposition; but
these latter are things for Jane to decide on; _she_ is to live with him,
and it is proper she should be suited in these respects."
"I do not deny his fortune or his disposition, but I complain that we give
him credit for the last, and for still more important requisites, without
evidence of his possessing any of them. His principles, his habits, his
very character, what do we know of them? I say we, for you know, Anne,
your children are as dear to me as my own would have been."
"I believe you sincerely, but the things you mention are points for Jane
to decide on. If she be pleased, I have no right to complain. I am
determined never to control the affections of my children."
"Had you said, never _to force_ the affections of your children, you would
have said enough, Anne; but to control, or rather to guide the affections
of a child, especially a daughter, is, in some cases, a duty as imperative
as it would be to avert any other impending calamity. Surely the proper
time to do this is before the affections of the child are likely to
endanger her peace of mind."
"I have seldom seen much good result from the interference of parents,"
said Lady Moseley, a little pertinaciously.
"True; for to be of use, unless in extraordinary cases, it should not be
seen. You will pardon me, Anne, but I have often thought parents are too
often in extremes--determined to make the election for their children, or
leaving them entirely to their own vanity and inexperience, to govern not
only their own lives, but, I may say, to leave an impression on future
generations. And, after all, what is this love? In nineteen cases in
twenty of what we call affairs of the heart, it would be better to term
them affairs of the _imagination."_
"And is there not a great deal of imagination in all love?" inquired Lady
Moseley, smiling.
"Undoubtedly, there is some; but there is one important difference: in
affairs of the imagination, the admired object is gifted with all those
qualities we esteem, as a matter of course, and there is a certain set of
females who are ever ready to bestow this admiration on any applicant for
their favors who may not be strikingly objectionable. The necessity of
being courted makes our sex rather too much disposed to admire improper
suitors."
"But how do you distinguish affairs of the heart, Charlotte, from those of
the fancy?"
"When the heart takes the lead, it is not difficult to detect it. Such
sentiments generally follow long intercourse, and opportunities of judging
the real character. They are the only attachments that are likely to stand
the test of worldly trials."
"Suppose Emily to be the object of Colonel Egerton's pursuit, then,
sister, in what manner would you proceed to destroy the influence I
acknowledge he is gaining over Jane?"
"I cannot suppose such a case," said Mrs. Wilson, gravely; and then,
observing that her sister looked as if she required an explanation, she
continued--
"My attention has been directed to the forming of such principles, and
such a taste, if I may use the expression, under those principles, that I
feel no apprehension Emily will ever allow her affections to be ensnared
by a man of the opinions and views of Colonel Egerton. I am impressed with
a twofold duty in watching the feelings of my charge. She has so much
singleness of heart, such real strength of native feeling, that, should an
improper man gain possession of her affections, the struggle between her
duty and her love would be weighty indeed; and should it proceed so far as
to make it her duty to love an unworthy object, I am sure she would sink
under it. Emily would die in the same, circumstances under which Jane
would only awake from a dream, and be wretched."
"I thought you entertained a better opinion of Jane, sister," said Lady
Moseley, reproachfully.
"I think her admirably calculated to make an invaluable wife and mother;
but she is so much under the influence of her fancy, that she seldom gives
her heart an opportunity of displaying its excellences; and again, she
dwells so much upon imaginary perfections, that adulation has become
necessary to her. The man who flatters her delicately will be sure to win
her esteem; and every woman might love the being possessed of the
qualities she will not fail to endow him with."
"I do not know that I rightly understand how you would avert all these sad
consequences of improvident affections?" said Lady Moseley.
"Prevention is better than cure--I would first implant such opinions as
would lessen the danger of intercourse; and as for particular attentions
from improper objects, it should be my care to prevent them, by
prohibiting, or rather impeding, the intimacy which might give rise to
them. And least of all," said Mrs. Wilson, with a friendly smile, as she
rose to leave the room, "would I suffer a fear of being impolite to
endanger the happiness of a young woman intrusted to my care."