Nothing material occurred for a fortnight after the departure of Lady
Laura, the Moseleys entering soberly into the amusements of the place, and
Derwent and Chatterton becoming more pointed every day in their
attentions--the one to Emily, and the other to Lady Harriet; when the
dowager received a pressing entreaty from Catherine to hasten to her at
Lisbon, where her husband had taken up his abode for a time, after much
doubt and indecision as to his place of residence. Lady Herriefield stated
generally in her letter, that she was miserable, and that without the
support of her mother she could not exist under the present grievances;
but what was the cause of those grievances, or what grounds she had for
her misery, she left unexplained.
Lady Chatterton was not wanting in maternal regard, and she promptly
determined to proceed to Portugal in the next packet. John felt inclined
for a little excursion with his bride; and out of compassion to the baron,
who was in a dilemma between his duty and his love (for Lady Harriet about
that time was particularly attractive), he offered his services.
Chatterton allowed himself to be persuaded by the good-natured John, that
his mother could safely cross the ocean under the protection of the
latter. Accordingly, at the end of the before mentioned fortnight, the
dowager, John, Grace, and Jane, commenced their journey to Falmouth.
Jane had offered to accompany Grace, as a companion in her return (it
being expected Lady Chatterton would remain in the country with her
daughter); and her parents appreciating her motives, permitted the
excursion, with a hope it would draw her thoughts from past events.
Although Grace shed a few tears at parting with Emily and her friends, it
was impossible for Mrs. Moseley to be long unhappy, with the face of John
smiling by her side; and they pursued their route uninterruptedly. In due
season they reached the port of embarkation.
The following morning the packet got under weigh, and a favorable breeze
soon wafted them out of sight of their native shores. The ladies were too
much indisposed the first day to appear on the deck; but the weather
becoming calm and the sea smooth, Grace and Jane ventured out of the
confinement of their state-rooms, to respire the fresh air above.
There were but few passengers, and those chiefly ladies--the wives of
officers on foreign stations, on their way to join their husbands. As
these had been accustomed to moving in the world, their disposition to
accommodate soon removed the awkwardness of a first meeting, and our
travellers began to be at home in their novel situation.
While Grace stood leaning on the arm of her husband, and clinging to his
support, both from affection and a dread of the motion of the vessel, Jane
ventured with one of the ladies to attempt a walk round the deck of the
ship. Unaccustomed to such an uncertain foothold, the walkers were
prevented falling by the kind interposition of a gentleman, who for the
first time had shown himself among them at that moment. The accident, and
their situation, led to a conversation which was renewed at different
times during their passage, and in some measure created an intimacy
between our party and the stranger. He was addressed by the commander of
the vessel as Mr. Harland; and Lady Chatterton exercised her ingenuity in
the investigation of his history, by which she made the following
discovery:
The Rev. and Hon. Mr. Harland was the younger son of an Irish earl, who
had early embraced his sacred profession in that church, in which he held
a valuable living in the gift of his father's family. His father was yet
alive, and then at Lisbon with his mother and sister, in attendance on his
elder brother, who had been sent there in a deep decline a couple of
months before. It had been the wish of his parents to have taken all their
children with them; but a sense of duty had kept the young clergyman in
the exercise of his holy office, until a request of his dying brother, and
the directions of his father, caused him to hasten abroad to witness the
decease of the one, and to afford all the solace within his power to the
others.
It may be easily imagined that the discovery of the rank of their
accidental acquaintance, with the almost certainty that existed of his
being the heir of his father's honors, in no degree impaired his
consequence in the eyes of the dowager; and it is certain, his visible
anxiety and depressed spirits, his unaffected piety, and disinterested
hopes for his brother's recovery, no less elevated him in the opinions of
her companions.
There was, at the moment, a kind of sympathy between Harland and Jane,
notwithstanding the melancholy which gave rise to it proceeding from such
very different causes and as the lady, although with diminished bloom,
retained all her personal charms, rather heightened than otherwise by the
softness of low spirits, the young clergyman sometimes relieved his
apprehensions of his brother's death by admitting the image of Jane among
his more melancholy reflections.
The voyage was tedious, and some time before it was ended the dowager had
given Grace an intimation of the probability there was of Jane's
becoming, at some future day, a countess. Grace sincerely hoped that
whatever she became she would be as happy as she thought all allied to
John deserved to be.
They entered the bay of Lisbon early in the morning; and as the ship had
been expected for some days, a boat came alongside with a note for Mr.
Harland, before they had anchored. It apprised him of the death of his
brother. The young man threw himself precipitately into it, and was soon
employed in one of the loveliest offices of his vocation, that of healing
the wounds of the afflicted.
Lady Herriefield received her mother in a sort of sullen satisfaction, and
her companions with an awkwardness she could ill conceal. It required no
great observation in the travellers to discover, that their arrival was
entirely unexpected by the viscount, if it were not equally disagreeable;
indeed, one day's residence under his roof assured them all that no great
degree of domestic felicity was an inmate of the dwelling.
From the moment Lord Herriefield became suspicious that he had been the
dupe of the management of Kate and her mother, he viewed every act of his
wife with a prejudiced eye. It was easy, with his knowledge of human
nature, to detect her selfishness and worldly-mindedness; for as these
were faults she was unconscious of possessing, so she was unguarded in her
exposure of them. But her designs, in a matrimonial point of view, having
ended with her marriage, had the viscount treated her with any of the
courtesies due her sex and station, she might, with her disposition, have
been contented in the enjoyment of rank and in the possession of wealth;
but their more private hours were invariably rendered unpleasant, by the
overflowings of her husband's resentment at having been deceived in his
judgment of the female sex.
There is no point upon which men are more tender than their privilege of
suiting themselves in a partner for life, although many of both sexes are
influenced in this important selection more by the wishes and whims of
others than is usually suspected; yet, as all imagine what is the result
of contrivance and management is the election of free will and taste, so
long as they are ignorant, they are contented. Lord Herriefield wanted
this bliss of ignorance; and, with contempt for his wife, was mingled
anger at his own want of foresight.
Very few people can tamely submit to self-reproach; and as the cause of
this irritated state of mind was both not only constantly present, but
completely within his power, the viscount seemed determined to give her as
little reason to exult in the success of her plans as possible. Jealous he
was, from temperament, from bad associations, and a want of confidence in
the principles of his wife, the freedom of foreign manners having an
additional tendency to excite this baneful passion to an unusual degree.
Abridged in her pleasures, reproached with motives she was incapable of
harboring, and disappointed in all those enjoyments her mother had ever
led her to believe the invariable accompaniments of married life, where
proper attention had been paid to the necessary qualifications of riches
and rank, Kate had written to the dowager with the hope her presence might
restrain, or her advice teach her, successfully to oppose the unfeeling
conduct of the viscount.
Lady Chatterton never having implanted any of her favorite systems in her
daughter, so much by precept as by the force of example in her own person,
as well as by indirect eulogiums on certain people who were endowed with
those qualities and blessings she most admired, on the present occasion
Catherine did not unburden herself in terms to her mother; but by a
regular gradation of complaints, aimed more at the world than at her
husband, she soon let the knowing dowager see their application, and in
the end completely removed the veil from her domestic grievances.
The example of John and Grace for a short time awed the peer into
dissembling his disgust for his spouse; but the ice once broken, their
presence soon ceased to affect either the frequency or the severity of his
remarks, when under its influence.
From such exhibitions of matrimonial discord, Grace shrank timidly into
the retirement of her room, and Jane, with dignity, would follow her
example; while John at times became a listener, with a spirit barely
curbed within the bounds of prudence, and at others, he sought in the
company of his wife and sister, relief from the violence of his feelings.
John never admired nor respected Catherine, for she wanted those very
qualities he chiefly loved in her sister; yet, as she was a woman, and one
nearly connected with him, he found it impossible to remain a quiet
spectator of the unmanly treatment she often received from her husband; he
therefore made preparations for his return to England by the first packet,
abridging his intended residence in Lisbon more than a month.
Lady Chatterton endeavored all within her power to heal the breach between
Kate and her husband, but it greatly exceeded her abilities. It was too
late to implant such principles in her daughter, as by a long course of
self-denial and submission might have won the love of the viscount, had
the mother been acquainted with them herself; so that having induced her
child to marry with a view to obtaining precedence and a jointure, she
once more set to work to undo part of her former labors, by bringing about
a decent separation between the husband and wife, in such a manner as to
secure to her child the possession of her wealth, and the esteem of the
world. The latter, though certainly a somewhat difficult undertaking, was
greatly lessened by the assistance of the former.
John and his wife determined to seize the opportunity to examine the
environs of the city. In one of these daily rides, they met their fellow
traveller, Mr. now Lord Harland. He was rejoiced to see them again, and
hearing of their intended departure, informed them of his being about to
return to England in the same vessel--his parents and sister contemplating
ending the winter in Portugal.
The intercourse between the two families was kept up with a show of
civilities between the noblemen, and much real good-will on the part of
the juniors of the circle, until the day arrived for the sailing of the
packet.
Lady Chatterton was left behind with Catherine, as yet unable to
circumvent her schemes with prudence; it being deemed by the world a worse
offence to separate, than to join together one's children in the bands of
wedlock.
The confinement of a vessel is very propitious to those intimacies which
lead to attachments. The necessity of being agreeable is a check upon the
captious, and the desire to lessen the dulness of the scene a stimulus to
the lively; and though the noble divine and Jane could not possibly be
ranked in either class, the effect was the same. The noble man was much
enamored, and Jane unconsciously gratified. It is true, love had never
entered her thoughts in its direct and unequivocal form; but admiration is
so consoling to those laboring under self-condemnation, and flattery of a
certain kind so very soothing to all, it is not to be wondered that she
listened with increasing pleasure to the interesting conversation of
Harland on all occasions, and more particularly, as often happened, when
exclusively addressed to herself.
Grace had of late reflected more seriously on the subject of her eternal
welfare than she had been accustomed to do in the house of her mother; and
the example of Emily, with the precepts of Mrs. Wilson, had not been
thrown away upon her. It is a singular fact, that more women feel a
disposition to religion soon after marriage than at any other period of
life; and whether it is, that having attained the most important station
this life affords the sex, they are more willing to turn their thoughts to
a provision for the next, or whether it be owing to any other cause, Mrs.
Moseley was included in the number. She became sensibly touched with her
situation, and as Harland was both devout and able as well as anxious to
instruct, one of the party, at least, had cause to rejoice in the journey
for the remainder of her days. But precisely as Grace increased in her own
faith, so did her anxiety after the welfare of her husband receive new
excitement; and John, for the first time, became the cause of sorrow to
his affectionate companion.
The deep interest Harland took in the opening conviction of Mrs. Moseley,
did not so entirely engross his thoughts as to prevent the too frequent
contemplation of the charms of her friend for his own peace of mind; and
by the time the vessel reached Falmouth, he had determined to make a
tender of his hand and title to the acceptance of Miss Moseley. Jane did
not love Egerton; on the contrary, she despised him; but the time had
been, when all her romantic feelings, every thought of her brilliant
imagination, had been filled with his image, and Jane felt it a species of
indelicacy to admit the impression of another so soon, or even at all.
These objections would, in time, have been overcome, as her affections
became more and more enlisted on behalf of Harland, had she admitted his
addresses; but there was an impediment that Jane considered insurmountable
to a union with any man.
She had once communicated her passion to its object. There had been the
confidence of approved love; and she had now no heart for Harland, but one
that had avowedly been a slave to another. To conceal this from him would
be unjust, and not reconcilable to good faith; to confess it, humiliating,
and without the pale of probability. It was the misfortune of Jane to keep
the world too constantly before her, and to lose sight too much of her
really depraved nature, to relish the idea of humbling herself so low in
the opinion of a fellow-creature. The refusal of Harland's offer was the
consequence, although she had begun to feel an esteem for him, that would
no doubt have given rise to an attachment in time, far stronger and more
deeply seated than her passing fancy for Colonel Egerton had been.
If the horror of imposing on the credulity of Harland a wounded heart, was
creditable to Jane, and showed an elevation of character that under proper
guidance would have placed her in the first ranks of her sex; the pride
which condemned her to a station nature did not design her for was
irreconcilable with the humility a just view of her condition could not
fail to produce; and the second sad consequence of the indulgent weakness
of her parents, was confirming their child in passions directly at
variance with the first duties of a Christian.
We have so little right to value ourselves on anything that pride is a
sentiment of very doubtful service, and one certainly, that is unable to
effect any useful results which will not equally flow from good
principles.
Harland was disappointed and grieved, but prudently judging that
occupation and absence would remove recollections which could not be very
deep, they parted at Falmouth, and our travellers proceeded on their
journey for B----, whither, during their absence, Sir Edward's family had
returned to spend a month, before they removed to town for the residue of
the winter.
The meeting of the two parties was warm and tender, and as Jane had many
things to recount, and John as many to laugh at, their arrival threw a
gaiety around Moseley Hall to which it had for months been a stranger.
One of the first acts of Grace, after her return, was to enter strictly
into the exercise of all those duties and ordinances required by her
church, and the present state of her mind, and from the hands of Dr. Ives
she received her first communion at the altar.
As the season had now become far advanced, and the fashionable world had
been some time assembled in the metropolis, the Baronet commenced his
arrangements to take possession of his town-house, after an interval of
nineteen years. John proceeded to the capital first; and the necessary
domestics procured, furniture supplied, and other arrangements usual to
the appearance of a wealthy family in the world having been completed, he
returned with the information that all was ready for their triumphal
entrance.
Sir Edward, feeling that a separation for so long a time, and at such an
unusual distance, in the very advanced age of Mr. Benfield, would be
improper, paid him a visit, with the intention of persuading him to make
one of his family for the next four months. Emily was his companion, and
their solicitations were happily crowned with a success they had not
anticipated. Averse to be deprived of Peter's society, the honest steward
was included in the party.
"Nephew," said Mr. Benfield, beginning to waver in his objections to the
undertaking, as the arguments pro and con were produced, "there are
instances of gentlemen, not in parliament, going to town in the winter, I
know. You are one yourself; and old Sir John Cowel, who never could get
in, although he ran for every city in the kingdom, never missed his winter
in Soho. Yes, yes--the thing is admissible--but had I known your wishes
before, I would certainly have kept my borough if it were only for the
appearance of the thing--besides," continued the old man, shaking his
head, "his majesty's ministers require the aid of some more experienced
members in these critical times; for what should an old man like me do in
Westminster, unless it were to aid his country with his advice?"
"Make his friends happy with his company, dear uncle," said Emily, taking
his hand between both her own, and smiling affectionately on the old
gentleman as she spoke.
"Ah! Emmy dear!" cried Mr. Benfield, looking on her with melancholy
pleasure, "you are not to be resisted--just such another as the sister of
my old friend Lord Gosford; she could always coax me out of anything. I
remember now, I heard the earl tell her once he could not afford to buy a
pair of diamond ear-rings; and she looked--only looked--did not speak!
Emmy!--that I bought them with intent to present them to Her myself."
"And did she take them, uncle?" asked his niece, in a little surprise.
"Oh yes! When I told her if she did not I would throw them into the river,
as no one else should wear what had been intended for her; poor soul! how
delicate and unwilling she was. I had to convince her they cost three
hundred pounds, before she would listen to it; and then she thought it
such a pity to throw away a thing of so much value. It would have been
wicked, you know, Emmy, dear; and she was much opposed to wickedness and
sin in any shape."
"She must have been a very unexceptionable character indeed," cried the
Baronet, with a smile, as he proceeded to make the necessary orders for
their journey. "But we must return to the party left at Bath."