On taking leave of Mrs. Fitzgerald, Emily and her aunt settled a plan of
correspondence; the deserted situation of this young woman having created
great interest in the breasts of her new friends. General M'Carthy had
returned to Spain without receding from his original proposal, and his
niece was left to mourn her early departure from one of the most solemn
duties of life.
Mr. Benfield, thwarted in one of his most favorite schemes of happiness
for the residue of his life, obstinately refused to make one of the party
at Bath; and Ives and Clara having returned to Bolton, the remainder of
the Moseleys arrived at the lodgings of John a very few days after the
interview of the preceding chapter, with hearts ill qualified to enter
into the gaieties of the place, though, in obedience to the wishes of Lady
Moseley, to see and to be seen once more on that great theatre of
fashionable amusement.
The friends of the family who had known them in times past were numerous,
and were glad to renew their acquaintance with those they had always
esteemed; so that they found themselves immediately surrounded by a circle
of smiling faces and dashing equipages.
Sir William Harris, the proprietor of the deanery, and a former neighbor,
with his showy daughter, were amongst the first to visit them. Sir William
was a man of handsome estate and unexceptionable character, but entirely
governed by the whims and desires of his only child. Caroline Harris
wanted neither sense nor beauty, but expecting a fortune, she had placed
her views too high. She at first aimed at the peerage; and while she felt
herself entitled to suit her taste as well as her ambition, had failed of
her object by ill-concealed efforts to attain it. She had justly acquired
the reputation of the reverse of a coquette or yet of a prude; still she
had never received an offer, and at the age of twenty-six, had now begun
to lower her thoughts to the commonalty. Her fortune would have easily
obtained her husband here, but she was determined to pick amongst the
lower supporters of the aristocracy of the nation. With the Moseleys she
had been early acquainted, though some years their senior; a circumstance,
however, to which she took care never to allude unnecessarily.
The meeting between Grace and the Moseleys was tender and sincere. John's
countenance glowed with delight, as he saw his future wife folded
successively in the arms of those he loved, and Grace's tears and blushes
added twofold charms to her native beauty. Jane relaxed from her reserve
to receive her future sister, and determined with herself to appear in the
world, in order to show Sir Henry Egerton that she did not feel the blow
he had inflicted as severely as the truth might have proved.
The Dowager found some little occupation, for a few days, in settling with
Lady Moseley the preliminaries of the wedding; but the latter had suffered
too much through her youngest daughters, to enter into these formalities
with her ancient spirit. All things were, however, happily settled; and
Ives making a journey for the express purpose, John and Grace were united
privately at the altar of one of the principal churches in Bath.
Chatterton had been summoned on the occasion; and the same paper which
announced the nuptials, contained, amongst the fashionable arrivals, the
names of the Duke of Derwent and his sister, the Marquess of Eltringham
and sisters, amongst whom was to be found Lady Laura Denbigh. Lady
Chatterton carelessly remarked, in presence of her friends, the husband of
the latter was summoned to the death-bed of a relative, from whom he had
great expectations. Emily's color did certainly change as she listened to
this news, but not allowing her thoughts to dwell on the subject, she was
soon enabled to recall her serenity of appearance.
But Jane and Emily were delicately placed. The lover of the former, and
the wives of the lovers of both, were in the way of daily, if not hourly
rencounters; and it required all the energies of the young women to appear
with composure before them. The elder was supported by pride, the younger
by principle. The first was restless, haughty, distant, and repulsive. The
last mild, humble, reserved, but eminently attractive. The one was
suspected by all around her; the other was unnoticed by any, but by her
nearest and dearest friends.
The first rencounter with these dreaded guests occurred at the rooms one
evening, where the elder ladies had insisted on the bride's making her
appearance. The Jarvises were there before them, and at their entrance
caught the eyes of the group. Lady Jarvis approached immediately, filled
with exultation--her husband with respect. The latter was received with
cordiality--the former politely, but with distance. The young ladies and
Sir Henry bowed distantly, and the gentleman soon drew off into another
part of the room: his absence alone kept Jane from fainting. The handsome
figure of Egerton standing by the side of Mary Jarvis, as her acknowledged
husband, was near proving too much for her pride, notwithstanding all her
efforts; and he looked so like the imaginary being she had set up as the
object of her worship, that her heart was also in danger of rebelling.
"Positively, Sir Edward and my lady, both Sir Timo and myself, and, I
dare say, Sir Harry and Lady Egerton too, are delighted to see you
comfortably at Bath among us. Mrs. Moseley, I wish you much happiness;
Lady Chatterton too. I suppose your ladyship recollects me now; I am Lady
Jarvis. Mr. Moseley, I regret, for your sake, that my son Captain Jarvis
is not here; you were so fond of each other, and both so loved your guns."
"Positively, my Lady Jarvis," said Moseley, drily, "my feelings on the
occasion are as strong as your own; but I presume the captain is much top
good a shot for me by this time."
"Why, yes; he improves greatly in most things he undertakes," rejoined the
smiling dame, "and I hope he will soon learn, like you, to shoot with the
_h_arrows of Cupid. I hope the Honorable Mrs. Moseley is well."
Grace bowed mildly, as she answered to the interrogatory, and smiled at
the thought of Jarvis put in competition with her husband in this species
of archery, when a voice immediately behind where they sat caught the ears
of the whole party; all it said was--
"Harriet, you forgot to show me Marian's letter."
"Yes, but I will to-morrow," was the reply.
It was the tone of Denbigh. Emily almost fell from her seat as it first
reached her, and the eyes of all but herself were immediately turned in
quest of the speaker. He had approached within a very few feet of them,
supporting a lady on each arm. A second look convinced the Moseleys that
they were mistaken. It was not Denbigh, but a young man whose figure,
face, and air resembled him strongly, and whose voice possessed the same
soft melodious tones which had distinguished that of Denbigh. This party
seated themselves within a very short distance of the Moseleys, and they
continued their conversation.
"You heard from the Colonel to-day, too, I believe," continued the
gentleman, turning to the lady who sat next to Emily.
"Yes, he is a very punctual correspondent; I hear every other day."
"How is his uncle, Laura?" inquired her female companion.
"Rather better; but I will thank your grace to find the Marquess and Miss
Howard."
"Bring them to us," rejoined the other.
"Yes," said the former lady, with a laugh, "and Eltringham will thank you
too, I dare say."
In an instant the duke returned, accompanied by a gentleman of thirty and
an elderly lady, who might have been safely taken for fifty without
offence to anybody but herself.
During these speeches their auditors had listened with almost breathless
interest. Emily had stolen a glance which satisfied her it was not Denbigh
himself and it greatly relieved her; but was startled at discovering that
she was actually seated by the side of his young and lovely wife. When an
opportunity offered, she dwelt on the amiable, frank countenance of her
rival with melancholy satisfaction: at least, she thought, he may yet be
happy, and I hope penitent.
It was a mixture of love and gratitude which prompted this wish, both
sentiments not easily got rid of when once ingrafted in our better
feelings. John eyed the strangers with a displeasure for which he could
not account at once, and saw, in the ancient lady, the bridesmaid Lord
Henry had so unwillingly admitted to that distinction.
Lady Jarvis was astounded with her vicinity to so much nobility, and she
drew back to her family to study its movements to advantage; while Lady
Chatterton sighed heavily, as she contemplated the fine figures of an
unmarried Duke and Marquess, and she without a single child to dispose of.
The remainder of the party continued to view them with curiosity, and
listened with interest to what they said.
Two or three young ladies had now joined the strangers, attended by a
couple of gentlemen, and the conversation became general. The ladies
declined dancing entirely, but appeared willing to throw away an hour in
comments on their neighbors.
"William," said one of the young ladies, "there is your old messmate, Col.
Egerton."
"Yes, I observe him," replied her brother, "I see him;" but, smiling
significantly, he continued, "we are messmates no longer."
"He is a sad character," said the Marquess, with a shrug. "William, I
would advise you to be cautious of his acquaintance."
"I thank you," replied Lord William, "but I believe I understand him
thoroughly."
Jane manifested strong emotion during these remarks, while Sir Edward and
his wife averted their faces from a simultaneous feeling of self-reproach.
Their eyes met, and mutual concessions were contained in the glance; yet
their feelings were unnoticed by their companions, for over the fulfilment
of her often repeated forewarnings of neglect and duty to our children,
Mrs. Wilson had mourned in sincerity, but she had forgotten to triumph.
"When are we to see Pendennyss?" inquired the Marquess; "I hope he will be
here with George--I have a mind to beat up his quarters in Wales this
season--what say you, Derwent?"
"I intend it, if I can persuade Lady Harriet to quit the gaieties of Bath
so soon--what say _you_, sister--will you be in readiness to attend me so
early?"
This question was asked in an arch tone, and drew the eyes of her friends
on the person to whom it was addressed.
"I am ready now, Frederick, if you wish it," answered the sister hastily,
and coloring excessively as she spoke.
"But where is Chatterton? I thought he was here--he had a sister married
here last week," inquired Lord William Stapleton, addressing no one in
particular.
A slight movement in their neighbors attracted the attention of the party.
"What a lovely young woman," whispered the duke to Lady Laura, "your
neighbor is!"
The lady smiled her assent, and as Emily overheard it, she rose with
glowing cheeks, and proposed a walk round the room.
Chatterton soon after entered. The young peer had acknowledged to Emily
that, deprived of hope as he had been by her firm refusal of his hand, his
efforts had been directed to the suppression of a passion which could
never be successful; but his esteem, his respect, remained in full force.
He did not touch at all on the subject of Denbigh, and she supposed that
he thought his marriage was a step that required justification.
The Moseleys had commenced their promenade round the room as Chatterton
came in. He paid his compliments to them as soon as he entered, and walked
with their party. The noble visitors followed their example, and the two
parties met. Chatterton was delighted to see them, the Duke was
particularly fond of him; and, had one been present of sufficient
observation, the agitation of his sister, the Lady Harriet Denbigh, would
have accounted for the doubts of her brother as respects her willingness
to leave Bath.
A few words of explanation passed; the duke and his friends appeared to
urge something on Chatterton, who acted as their ambassador, and the
consequence was, an introduction of the two parties to each other. This
was conducted with the ease of the present fashion--it was general, and
occurred, as it were incidentally, in the course of the evening.
Both Lady Harriet and Lady Laura Denbigh were particularly attentive to
Emily. They took their seats by her, and manifested a preference for her
conversation that struck Mrs. Wilson as remarkable. Could it be that the
really attractive manners and beauty of her niece had caught the fancy of
these ladies, or was there a deeper seated cause for the desire to draw
Emily out, that both of them evinced? Mrs. Wilson had heard a rumor that
Chatterton was thought attentive to Lady Harriet, and the other was the
wife of Denbigh; was it possible the quondam suitors of her niece had
related to their present favorites the situation they had stood in as
regarded Emily? It was odd, to say no more; and the widow dwelt on the
innocent countenance of the bride with pity and admiration. Emily herself
was not a little abashed at the notice of her new acquaintances,
especially Lady Laura's; but as their admiration appeared sincere, as well
as their desire to be on terms of intimacy with the Moseleys, they parted,
on the whole, mutually pleased.
The conversation several times was embarrassing to the baronet's family,
and at moments distressingly so to their daughters.
At the close of the evening they all formed one group at a little distance
from the rest of the company, and in a situation to command a view of it.
"Who is that vulgar-looking woman," said Lady Sarah Stapleton, "seated
next to Sir Henry Egerton, brother?"
"No less a personage than my Lady Jarvis," replied the marquess, gravely,
"and the mother-in-law of Sir Harry, and the wife to Sir Timo--;" this was
said, with a look of drollery that showed the marquess was a bit of a
quiz.
"Married!" cried Lord William, "mercy on the woman who is Egerton's wife.
He is the greatest latitudinarian amongst the ladies, of any man in
England--nothing--no, nothing would tempt me to let such a man marry a
sister of mine!"
Ah, thought Mrs. Wilson, how we may be deceived in character, with the
best intentions, after all! In what are the open vices of Egerton worse
than the more hidden ones of Denbigh?
These freely expressed opinions on the character of Sir Henry were
excessively awkward to some of the listeners, to whom they were connected
with unpleasant recollections of duties neglected, and affections thrown
away.
Sir Edward Moseley was not disposed to judge his fellow-creatures harshly;
and it was as much owing to his philanthropy as to his indolence, that he
had been so remiss in his attention to the associates of his daughters.
But the veil once removed, and the consequences brought home to him
through his child, no man was more alive to the necessity of caution on
this important particular; and Sir Edward formed many salutary resolutions
for the government of his future conduct in relation to those whom an
experience nearly fatal in its results had now greatly qualified to take
care of themselves But to resume our narrative--Lady Laura had maintained
with Emily a conversation, which was enlivened by occasional remarks from
the rest of the party, in the course of which the nerves as well as the
principles of Emily were put to a severe trial.
"My brother Henry," said Lady Laura, "who is a captain in the navy, once
had the pleasure of seeing you, Miss Moseley, and in some measure made me
acquainted with you before we met."
"I dined with Lord Henry at L----, and was much indebted to his polite
attentions in an excursion on the water," replied Emily, simply.
"Oh, I am sure his attentions were exclusive," cried the sister; "indeed,
he told us that nothing but want of time prevented his being deeply in
love--he had even the audacity to tell Denbigh it was fortunate for me he
had never seen you, or I should have been left to lead apes."
"And I suppose you believe him now," cried Lord William, laughing, as he
bowed to Emily.
His sister laughed in her turn, but shook her head, in the confidence of
conjugal affection.
"It is all conjecture, for the Colonel said he had never enjoyed the
pleasure of meeting Miss Moseley, so I will not boast of what my powers
might have done; Miss Moseley," continued Lady Laura, blushing slightly at
her inclination to talk of an absent husband, so lately her lover, "I hope
to have the pleasure of presenting Colonel Denbigh to you soon."
"I think," said Emily, with a strong horror of deception, and a mighty
struggle to suppress her feelings, "Colonel Denbigh was mistaken in saying
that we had never met; he was of material service to me once, and I owe
him a debt of gratitude that I only wish I could properly repay."
Lady Laura listened in surprise; but as Emily paused, she could not
delicately, as his wife, remind her further of the obligation, by asking
what the service was, and hesitating a moment, continued--
"Henry quite made you the subject of conversation amongst us; Lord
Chatterton too, who visited us for a day, was equally warm in his
eulogiums. I really thought they created a curiosity in the Duke and
Pendennyss to behold their idol."
"A curiosity that would be ill rewarded in its indulgence," said Emily,
abashed by the personality of the discourse.
"So says the modesty of Miss Moseley," said the Duke of Derwent, in the
peculiar tone which distinguished the softer keys of Denbigh's voice.
Emily's heart beat quick as she heard them, and she was afterwards vexed
to remember with how much pleasure she had listened to this opinion of the
duke. Was it the sentiment, or was it the voice? She, however, gathered
strength to answer, with a dignity that repressed further praises:--
"Your grace is willing to divest me of what little I possess."
"Pendennyss is a man of a thousand," continued Lady Laura, with the
privilege of a married woman. "I do wish he would join us at Bath--is
there no hope, duke?"
"I am afraid not," replied his grace: "he keeps himself immured in Wales
with his sister, who is as much of a hermit as he is himself."
"There was a story of an inamorata in private somewhere," cried the
marquess; "why at one time it was even said he was privately married to
her."
"Scandal, my lord," said the duke, gravely: "Pendennyss is of
unexceptionable morals, and the lady you mean is the widow of Major
Fitzgerald, whom you knew. Pendennyss never sees her, though by accident
he was once of very great service to her."
Mrs. Wilson breathed freely again, as she heard this explanation, and
thought if the Marquess knew all, how differently would he judge
Pendennyss, as well as others.
"Oh! I have the highest opinion of Lord Pendennyss," cried the Marquess.
The Moseleys were not sorry that the usual hour of retiring put an end to
the conversation and their embarrassment.