Mrs. Wilson and Emily, in the fortnight they had been at Benfield Lodge,
paid frequent and long visits to the cottage: and each succeeding
interview left a more favorable impression of the character of its
mistress, and a greater certainty that she was unfortunate. The latter,
however, alluded very slightly to her situation or former life; she was a
Protestant, to the great surprise of Mrs. Wilson; and one that misery had
made nearly acquainted with the religion she professed. Their
conversations chiefly turned on the customs of her own, as contrasted with
those of her adopted country, or in a pleasant exchange of opinions, which
the ladies possessed in complete unison. One morning John had accompanied
them and been admitted; Mrs. Fitzgerald receiving him with the frankness
of an old acquaintance, though with the reserve of a Spanish lady. His
visits were permitted under the direction of his aunt, but no others of
the gentlemen were included amongst her guests. Mrs. Wilson had casually
mentioned, in the absence of her niece, the interposition of Denbigh
between her and death; and Mrs. Fitzgerald was so much pleased at the
noble conduct of the gentleman, as to express a desire to see him; but the
impressions of the moment appeared to have died away, a nothing more was
said by either lady on the subject, and it was apparently forgotten. Mrs.
Fitzgerald was found one morning, weeping over a letter she held in her
hand, and the Donna Lorenza was endeavoring to console her. The situation
of this latter lady was somewhat doubtful; she appeared neither wholly a
friend nor a menial. In the manners of the two there was a striking
difference; although the Donna was not vulgar, she was far from possessing
the polish of her more juvenile friend, and Mrs. Wilson considered her to
be in a station between that of a housekeeper and that of a companion.
After hoping that no unpleasant intelligence occasioned the distress they
witnessed, the ladies were delicately about to take their leave, when Mrs.
Fitzgerald entreated them to remain.
"Your kind attention to me, dear madam, and the goodness of Miss Moseley,
give you a claim to know more of the unfortunate being your sympathy has
so greatly assisted to attain her peace of mind. This letter is from the
gentleman of whom you have heard me speak, as once visiting me, and though
it has struck me with unusual force, it contains no more than I expected
to hear, perhaps no more than I deserve to hear."
"I hope your friend has not been unnecessarily harsh: severity is not the
best way, always, of effecting repentance, and I feel certain that you, my
young friend, can have been guilty of no offence that does not rather
require gentle than stern reproof," said Mrs. Wilson.
"I thank you, dear madam, for your indulgent opinion of me, but although I
have suffered much, I am willing to confess it is a merited punishment;
you are, however, mistaken as to the source of my present sorrow. Lord
Pendennyss is the cause of grief, I believe, to no one, much less to me."
"Lord Pendennyss!" exclaimed Emily, in surprise, unconsciously looking at
her aunt.
"Pendennyss!" reiterated Mrs. Wilson, with animation "and is he your
friend, too?"
"Yes, madam; to his lordship I owe
everything--honor--comfort--religion--and even life itself."
Mrs. Wilson's cheek glowed with an unusual color, at this discovery of
another act of benevolence and virtue, in a young nobleman whose character
she had so long admired, and whose person she had in vain wished to meet.
"You know the earl, then?" inquired Mrs. Fitzgerald.
"By reputation, only, my dear," said Mrs. Wilson; "but that is enough to
convince me a friend of his must be a worthy character, if anything were
wanting to make us your friends."
The conversation was continued for some time, and Mrs. Fitzgerald saying
she did not feel equal just then to the undertaking, but the next day, if
they would honor her with another call, she would make them acquainted
with the incidents of her life, and the reasons she had for speaking in
such terms of Lord Pendennyss. The promise to see her was cheerfully made
by Mrs. Wilson, and her confidence accepted; not from a desire to gratify
an idle curiosity, but a belief that it was necessary to probe a wound to
cure it; and a correct opinion, that she would be a better adviser for a
young and lovely woman, than even Pendennyss; for the Donna Lorenza she
could hardly consider in a capacity to offer advice, much less dictation.
They then took their leave, and Emily, during their ride, broke the
silence with exclaiming,--
"Wherever we hear of Lord Pendennyss, aunt, we hear of him favorably."
"A certain sign, my dear, he is deserving of it. There is hardly any man
who has not his enemies, and those are seldom just; but we have met with
none of the earl's yet."
"Fifty thousand a year will make many friends," observed Emily, shaking
her head.
"Doubtless, my love, or as many enemies; but honor, life, and religion, my
child, are debts not owing to money--in this country at least."
To this remark Emily assented; and after expressing her own admiration of
the character of the young nobleman, she dropped into a reverie. How many
of his virtues she identified with the person of Mr. Denbigh, it is not,
just now, our task to enumerate; but judges of human nature may easily
determine, and that too without having sat in the parliament of this
realm.
The morning this conversation occurred at the cottage, Mr. and Mrs.
Jarvis, with their daughters, made their unexpected appearance at L----.
The arrival of a post-chaise and four with a gig, was an event soon
circulated through the little village, and the names of its owners reached
the lodge just as Jane had allowed herself to be persuaded by the colonel
to take her first walk with him unaccompanied by a third person. Walking
is much more propitious to declarations than riding; and whether it was
premeditated on the part of the colonel or not, or whether he was afraid
that Mrs. Jarvis or some one else would interfere, he availed himself of
this opportunity, and had hardly got out of hearing of her brother and
Denbigh, before he made Jane an explicit offer of his hand. The surprise
was so great, that some time elapsed before the distressed girl could
reply. This she, however, at length did, but incoherently: she referred
him to her parents, as the arbiters of her fate, well knowing that her
wishes had long been those of her father and mother. With this the colonel
was obliged to be satisfied for the present. But their walk had not ended,
before he gradually drew from the confiding girl an acknowledgment that,
should her parents decline his offer, she would be very little less
miserable than himself; indeed, the most tenacious lover might have been
content with the proofs of regard that Jane, unused to control her
feelings, allowed herself to manifest on this occasion. Egerton was in
raptures; a life devoted to her would never half repay her condescension;
and as their confidence increased with their walk, Jane re-entered the
lodge with a degree of happiness in her heart she had never before
experienced. The much dreaded declaration--her own distressing
acknowledgements, were made, and nothing farther remained but to live and
be happy. She flew into the arms of her mother, and; hiding her blushes in
her bosom, acquainted her with the colonel's offer and her own wishes.
Lady Moseley, who was prepared for such a communication, and had rather
wondered at its tardiness, kissed her daughter affectionately, as she
promised to speak to her father, and to obtain his approbation.
"But," she added, with a degree of formality and caution which had better
preceded than have followed the courtship, "we must make the usual
inquiries, my child, into the fitness of Colonel Egerton as a husband for
our daughter. Once assured of that, you have nothing to fear."
The baronet was requested to grant an audience to Colonel Egerton, who now
appeared as determined to expedite things, as he had been dilatory before.
On meeting Sir Edward, he made known his pretensions and hopes. The
father, who had been previously notified by his wife of what was
forthcoming, gave a general answer, similar to the speech of the mother,
and the colonel bowed in acquiescence.
In the evening, the Jarvis family favored the inhabitants of the lodge
with a visit, and Mrs. Wilson was struck with the singularity of their
reception of the colonel. Miss Jarvis, especially, was rude to both him
and Jane, and it struck all who witnessed it as a burst of jealous feeling
for disappointed hopes; but to no one, excepting Mrs. Wilson, did it occur
that the conduct of the gentleman could be at all implicated in the
transaction. Mr. Benfield was happy to see under his roof again the best
of the trio of Jarvises he had known, and something like sociability
prevailed. There was to be a ball, Miss Jarvis remarked, at L----, the
following day, which would help to enliven the scene a little, especially
as there were a couple of frigates at anchor, a few miles off, and the
officers were expected to join the party. This intelligence had but little
effect on the ladies of the Moseley family; yet, as their uncle desired
that, out of respect to his neighbors, if invited, they would go, they
cheerfully assented. During the evening, Mrs. Wilson observed Egerton in
familiar conversation with Miss Jarvis; and as she had been notified of
his situation with respect to Jane, she determined to watch narrowly into
the causes of so singular a change of deportment in the young lady. Mrs.
Jarvis retained her respect for the colonel in full force; and called out
to him across the room, a few minutes before she departed--
"Well, colonel, I am happy to tell you I have heard very lately from your
uncle, Sir Edgar."
"Indeed, madam!" replied the colonel, starting. "He was well, I hope."
"Very well, the day before yesterday. His neighbor, old, Mr. Holt, is a
lodger in the same house with us at L----; and as I thought you would like
to hear, I made particular inquiries about the baronet." The word baronet
was pronounced with emphasis and a look of triumph, as if it would say,
you see _we_ have baronets as well as you. As no answer was made by
Egerton, excepting an acknowledging bow, the merchant and his family
departed.
"Well, John," cried Emily, with a smile, "we have heard more good to-day
of our trusty and well-beloved cousin, the Earl of Pendennyss."
"Indeed!" exclaimed her brother. "You must keep Emily for his lordship,
positively, aunt: she is almost as great an admirer of him as yourself."
"I apprehend it is necessary she should be quite as much so, to become
his wife," said Mrs. Wilson.
"Really," said Emily, more gravely, "if all one hears of him be true, or
even half, it would be no difficult task to admire him."
Denbigh was standing leaning on the back of a chair, in situation where he
could view the animated countenance of Emily as she spoke, and Mrs. Wilson
noticed an uneasiness and a changing of color in him that appeared
uncommon from so trifling a cause. Is it possible, she thought, Denbigh
can harbor so mean a passion as envy? He walked away, as if unwilling to
hear more, and appeared much engrossed with his own reflections for the
remainder of the evening. There were moments of doubting which crossed the
mind of Mrs. Wilson with a keenness of apprehension proportionate to her
deep interest in Emily, with respect to certain traits in the character of
Denbigh; and this, what she thought a display of unworthy feeling, was one
of them. In the course of the evening, the cards for the expected ball
arrived, and were accepted. As this new arrangement for the morrow
interfered with their intended visit to Mrs. Fitzgerald, a servant was
sent with a note of explanation in the morning and a request that on the
following day the promised communication might be made. To this
arrangement the recluse assented, and Emily prepared for the ball with a
melancholy recollection of the consequences which grew out of the last she
had attended--melancholy at the fate of Digby, and pleasure at the
principles manifested by Denbigh, on the occasion. The latter, however,
with a smile, excused himself from being of the party, telling Emily he
was so awkward that he feared some unpleasant consequences to himself or
his friends would arise from his inadvertencies, did he venture again with
her into such an assembly.
Emily sighed gently, as she entered the carriage of her aunt early in the
afternoon, leaving Denbigh in the door of the lodge, and Egerton absent on
the execution of some business; the former to amuse himself as he could
until the following morning, and the latter to join them in the dance in
the evening.
The arrangement included an excursion on the water, attended by the bands
from the frigates, a collation, and in the evening a ball. One of the
vessels was commanded by a Lord Henry Stapleton, a fine young man, who,
struck with the beauty and appearance of the sisters, sought an
introduction to the baronet's family, and engaged the hand of Emily for
the first dance. His frank and gentleman-like deportment was pleasing to
his new acquaintances; the more so, as it was peculiarly suited to their
situation at the moment. Mrs. Wilson was in unusual spirits, and
maintained an animated conversation with the young sailor, in the course
of which, he spoke of his cruising on the coast of Spain, and by accident
he mentioned his having carried out to that country, upon one occasion,
Lord Pendennyss. This was common ground between them, and Lord Henry was
as enthusiastic in his praises of the earl, as Mrs. Wilson's partiality
could desire. He also knew Colonel Egerton slightly, and expressed his
pleasure, in polite terms, when they met in the evening in the ball-room,
at being able to renew his acquaintance. The evening passed off as such
evenings generally do--in gaiety, listlessness, dancing, gaping, and
heartburnings, according to the dispositions and good or ill fortune of
the several individuals who compose the assembly. Mrs. Wilson, while her
nieces were dancing, moved her seat to be near a window, and found herself
in the vicinity of two elderly gentlemen, who were commenting on the
company. After making several common-place remarks, one of them inquired
of the other--"Who is that military gentleman amongst the naval beaux,
Holt?"
"That is the hopeful nephew of my friend and neighbor, Sir Edgar Egerton;
he is here dancing, and misspending his time and money, when I know Sir
Edgar gave him a thousand pounds six months ago, on express condition, he
should not leave the regiment or take a card in his hand for twelvemonth."
"He plays, then?"
"Sadly; he is, on the whole, a very bad young man."
As they changed their topic, Mrs. Wilson joined her sister, dreadfully
shocked at this intimation of the vices of a man so near an alliance with
her brother's child. She was thankful it was not too late to avert part of
the evil, and determined to acquaint Sir Edward, at once, with what she
had heard, in order that an investigation might establish the colonel's
innocence or guilt.