The letters of Lady Laura informed her friends, that she and Colonel
Denbigh had decided to remain with his uncle until the recovery of the
latter was complete, and then to proceed to Denbigh Castle, to meet the
Duke and his sister during the approaching holidays.
Emily was much relieved by this postponement of an interview which she
would gladly have avoided for ever; and her aunt sincerely rejoiced that
her niece was allowed more time to eradicate impressions, which, she saw
with pain, her charge had yet a struggle to overcome.
There were so many points to admire in the character of Denbigh; his
friends spoke of him with such decided partiality; Dr. Ives, in his
frequent letters, alluded to him with so much affection; that Emily
frequently detected herself in weighing the testimony of his guilt, and
indulging the expectation that circumstances had deceived them all in
their judgment of his conduct. Then his marriage would cross her mind; and
with the conviction of the impropriety of admitting him to her thoughts at
all, would come the mass of circumstantial testimony which had accumulated
against him.
Derwent served greatly to keep alive the recollections of his person,
however; and as Lady Harriet seemed to live only in the society of the
Moseleys, not a day passed without giving the Duke some opportunity of
indirectly preferring his suit.
Emily not only appeared, but in fact was, unconscious of his admiration;
and entered into their amusements with a satisfaction that was increased
by the belief that the unfortunate attachment her cousin Chatterton had
once professed for herself, was forgotten in the more certain enjoyments
of a successful love.
Lady Harriet was a woman of manners and character very different from
Emily Moseley; yet had she in a great measure erased the impressions made
by the beauty of his kinswoman from the bosom of the baron.
Chatterton, under the depression of his first disappointment, it will be
remembered, had left B---- in company with Mr. Denbigh. The interest of
the duke had been unaccountably exerted to procure him the place he had so
long solicited in vain, and gratitude required his early acknowledgments
for the favor. His manner, so very different from a successful applicant
for a valuable office, had struck both Derwent and his sister as singular.
Before, however, a week's intercourse had passed between them, his own
frankness had made them acquainted with the cause; and a double wish
prevailed in the bosom of Lady Harriet, to know the woman who could resist
the beauty of Chatterton, and to relieve him from the weight imposed on
his spirits by disappointed affection.
The manners of Lady Harriet Denbigh were not in the least forward or
masculine; but they had the freedom of high rank, mingled with a good deal
of the ease of fashionable life. Mrs. Wilson noticed, moreover, in her
conduct to Chatterton, a something exceeding the interest of ordinary
communications in their situation, which might possibly have been
attributed more to feeling than to manner. It is certain, one of the
surest methods to drive Emily from his thoughts, was to dwell on the
perfections of some other lady; and Lady Harriet was so constantly before
him in his visit into Westmore land, so soothing, so evidently pleased
with his presence, that the baron made rapid advances in attaining his
object.
He had alluded, in his letter to Emily, to the obligation he was under to
the services of Denbigh, in erasing his unfortunate partiality for her:
but what those services were, we are unable to say, unless they were the
usual arguments of the plainest good sense, enforced in the singularly
insinuating and kind manner which distinguished that gentleman. In fact,
Lord Chatterton was not formed by nature to love long, deprived of hope,
or to resist long the flattery of a preference from such a woman as
Harriet Denbigh.
On the other hand, Derwent was warm in his encomiums on Emily to all but
herself; and Mrs. Wilson again thought it prudent to examine into the
state of her feelings, in order to discover if there was any danger of his
unremitted efforts drawing Emily into a connexion that neither her
religion nor prudence could wholly approve.
Derwent was a man of the world--a Christian only in name; and the cautious
widow determined to withdraw in season, should she find grounds for her
apprehensions.
About ten days after the departure of the Dowager and her companions, Lady
Harriet exclaimed, in one of her morning visits--
"Lady Moseley! I have now hopes of presenting to you soon the most
polished man in the United Kingdom!"
"As a husband! Lady Harriet?" inquired the other, with a smile.
"Oh, no! only as a cousin, a second cousin! madam!" replied Lady Harriet,
blushing a little, and looking in the opposite direction to the one in
which Chatterton was placed.
"But his name? You forget our curiosity! What is his name?" cried Mrs.
Wilson, entering into the trifling for the moment.
"Pendennyss, to be sure, my dear madam: whom else can I mean?"
"And you expect the earl at Bath?" Mrs. Wilson eagerly inquired.
"He has given us such hopes, and Derwent has written him to-day, pressing
the journey."
"You will be disappointed, I am afraid, sister," said the duke.
"Pendennyss has become so fond of Wales of late, that it is difficult to
get him out of it."
"But," said Mrs. Wilson, "he will take his seat in parliament during the
winter, my lord?"
"I hope he will, madam; though Lord Eltringham holds his proxies, in my
absence, in all important questions before the house."
"Your grace will attend, I trust," said Sir Edward. "The pleasure of your
company is among my expected enjoyments in the town."
"You are very good, Sir Edward," replied the duke, looking at Emily. "It
will somewhat depend on circumstances, I believe."
Lady Harriet smiled, and the speech seemed understood by all but the lady
most concerned in it.
"Lord Pendennyss is a universal favorite, and deservedly so," cried the
duke. "He has set an example to the nobility, which few are equal to
imitate. An only son, with an immense estate, he has devoted himself to
the profession of a soldier, and gained great reputation by it in the
world; nor has he neglected any of his private duties as a man----"
"Or a Christian, I hope," said Mrs. Wilson, delighted with the praises of
the earl.
"Nor of a Christian, I believe," continued the duke; "he appears
consistent, humble, and sincere--three requisites, I believe, for that
character."
"Does not your grace know?" said Emily, with a benevolent smile.
Derwent colored slightly as he answered--
"Not as well as I ought; but"--lowering his voice for her ear alone, he
added, "under proper instruction I think I might learn."
"Then I would recommend that book to you, my lord," rejoined Emily, with a
blush, pointing to a pocket Bible which lay near her, though still
ignorant of the allusion he meant to convey.
"May I ask the honor of an audience of Miss Moseley," said Derwent, in the
same low tone, "whenever her leisure will admit of her granting the
favor?"
Emily was surprised; but from the previous conversation and the current of
her thoughts at the moment, supposing his communication had some reference
to the subject before them, she rose from her chair, and unobtrusively,
but certainly with an air of perfect innocence and composure, she went
into the adjoining room, the door of which was open very near them.
Caroline Harris had abandoned all ideas of a coronet with the departure of
the Marquess of Eltringham and his sisters for their own seat; and as a
final effort of her fading charms, had begun to calculate the capabilities
of Captain Jarvis, who had at this time honored Bath with his company.
It is true, the lady would have greatly preferred her father's neighbor,
but that was an irretrievable step. He had retired, disgusted with her
haughty dismissal of his hopes, and was a man who, although he greatly
admired her fortune, was not to be recalled by any beck or smile which
might grow out of caprice.
Lady Jarvis had, indeed, rather magnified the personal qualifications of
her son; but the disposition they had manifested, to devote some of their
surplus wealth to purchasing a title, had great weight, for Miss Harris
would cheerfully, at any time, have sacrificed one half her own fortune to
be called my lady. Jarvis would make but a shabby-looking lord, 'tis true;
but then what a lord's wife would she not make herself! His father was a
merchant, to be sure, but then merchants were always immensely rich, and a
few thousand pounds, properly applied, might make the merchant's son a
baron. She therefore resolved to inquire, the first opportunity, into the
condition of the sinking fund of his plebeianism, and had serious thoughts
of contributing her mite towards the advancement of the desired object,
did she find it within the bounds of probable success.
An occasion soon offered, by the invitation of the Captain to accompany
him in an excursion in the tilbury of his brother-in-law.
In this ride they passed the equipages of Lady Harriet and Mrs. Wilson,
with their respective mistresses, taking an airing. In passing the latter,
Jarvis bowed (for he had renewed his acquaintance at the rooms, without
daring to visit at the lodgings of Sir Edward), and Miss Harris saw both
parties as they dashed by them.
"You know the Moseleys, Caroline?" said Jarvis, with the freedom her
manners had established between them.
"Yes," replied the lady, drawing her head back from a view of the
carriages; "what fine arms those of the Duke's are--and the coronet, it is
so noble--so rich--I am sure if I were a man," laying great emphasis on
the word--"I would be a Lord."
"If you could, you mean," cried the captain.
"Could--why money will buy a title, you know--only most people are fonder
of their cash than of honor."
"That's right," said the unreflecting captain; "money is the thing, after
all. Now what do you suppose our last mess-bill came to?"
"Oh, don't talk of eating and drinking," cried Miss Harris, in affected
aversion; "is it beneath the consideration of nobility."
"Then any one may be a lord for me," said Jarvis, drily "if they are not
to eat and drink; why, what do they live for, but such sort of things!"
"A soldier lives to fight and gain honor and distinction"--for his
wife--Miss Harris would have added, had she spoken all she thought.
"A poor way that of spending a man's time," said the Captain. "Now there
is Captain Jones in our regiment; they say he loves fighting as much as
eating: if he do, he is a bloodthirsty fellow."
"You know how intimate I am with your dear mother," continued the lady,
bent on the principal object; "she has made me acquainted with her
greatest wish."
"Her greatest wish!" cried the Captain, in astonishment; "why, what can
that be?--a new coach and horses?"
"No, I mean one much dearer to us--I should say, to her, than any such
trifles: she has told me of the _plan_."
"Plan!" said Jarvis, still in wonder, "what plan?"
"About the fund for the peerage, you know. Of course, the thing is sacred
with me, as, indeed, I am equally interested with you all in its success."
Jarvis eyed her with a knowing look, and as she concluded, rolling his
eyes in an expression of significance, he said--
"What, serve Sir William some such way, eh?"
"I will assist a little, if it be necessary, Henry," said the lady,
tenderly, "although my mite cannot amount to a great deal."
During this speech, the Captain was wondering what she could mean; but,
having had a suspicion, from something that had fallen from his mother,
that the lady was intended for him as a wife, and that she might be as
great a dupe as Lady Jarvis herself, he was resolved to know the whole,
and to act accordingly.
"I think it might be made to do," he replied, evasively in order to
discover the extent of his companion's information.
"Do!", cried Miss Harris, with fervor, "it cannot fail! How much do you
suppose will be wanting to buy a barony, for instance?"
"Hem!" said Jarvis; "you mean more than we have already?"
"Certainly."
"Why, about a thousand pounds, I think, will do it, with what we have,"
said Jarvis, affecting to calculate.
"Is that all?" cried the delighted Caroline; and the captain grew in an
instant, in her estimation, three inches higher;--quite noble in his air,
and, in short, very tolerably handsome.
From that moment, Miss Harris, in her own mind, had fixed the fate of
Captain Jarvis, and had determined to be his wife, whenever she could
persuade him to offer himself; a thing she had no doubt of accomplishing
with comparative ease. Not so the Captain. Like all weak men, there was
nothing of which he stood more in terror than of ridicule. He had heard
the manoeuvres of Miss Harris laughed at by many of the young men in Bath,
and was by no means disposed to add himself to the food for mirth of these
wags; and, indeed, had cultivated her acquaintance with a kind of bravado
to some of his bottle companions, in order to show his ability to oppose
all her arts, when most exposed to them: for it is one of the greatest
difficulties to the success of this description of ladies, that their
characters soon become suspected, and do them infinitely more injury than
all their skill in their vocation.
With these views in the respective champions the campaign opened, and the
lady, on her return, acquainted his mother with the situation of the privy
purse, that was to promote her darling child to the enviable distinction
of the peerage. Lady Jarvis was for purchasing a baronetcy on the spot,
with what they had, under the impression that when ready for another
promotion they would only have to pay the difference, as they did in the
army when he received his captaincy. As, however, the son was opposed to
any arrangement that might make the producing the few hundred pounds he
had obtained from his mother's folly necessary, she was obliged to
postpone the wished-for day, until their united efforts could compass the
means of effecting the main point. As an earnest, however, of her spirit
in the cause, she gave him a fifty pound note, that morning obtained from
her husband, and which the Captain lost at one throw of the dice to his
brother-in-law the same evening.
During the preceding events, Egerton had either studiously avoided all
collision with the Moseleys, or his engagements had confined him to such
very different scenes, that they never met.
The Baronet had felt his presence a reproach, and Lady Moseley rejoiced
that Egerton yet possessed sufficient shame to keep him from insulting her
with his company.
It was a month after the departure of Lady Chatterton that Sir Edward
returned to B----, as related in the preceding chapter, and that the
arrangements for the London winter were commenced.
The day preceding their leaving Bath, the engagement of Chatterton with
Lady Harriet was made public amongst their mutual friends, and an
intimation was given that their nuptials would be celebrated before the
family of the Duke left his seat for the capital.
Something of the pleasure that she had for a long time been a stranger to,
was felt by Emily Moseley, as the well remembered tower of the village
church of B---- struck her sight on their return from their protracted
excursion. More than four months had elapsed since they had commenced
their travels, and in that period what changes of sentiments had she not
witnessed in others; of opinions of mankind in general, and of one
individual in particular, had she not experienced in her own person. The
benevolent smiles, the respectful salutations they received, in passing
the little group of houses which, clustered round the church, had obtained
the name of "the village," conveyed a sensation of delight that can only
be felt by the deserving and virtuous; and the smiling faces, in several
instances glistening with tears, which met them at the Hall, gave ample
testimony to the worth of both the master and his servants.
Francis and Clara were in waiting to receive them, and a very few minutes
elapsed before the rector and Mrs. Ives, having heard they had passed,
drove in also. In saluting the different members of the family, Mrs.
Wilson noticed the startled look of the doctor, as the change in Emily's
appearance first met his eyes. Her bloom, if not gone, was greatly
diminished; and it was only when under the excitement of strong emotions,
that her face possessed that radiance which had so eminently distinguished
it before her late journey.
"Where did you last see my friend George?" said the Doctor to Mrs. Wilson,
in the course of the first afternoon, as he took a seat by her side, apart
from the rest of the family.
"At L----," said Mrs. Wilson, gravely.
"L----!" cried the doctor, in evident amazement. "Was he not at Bath then
during your stay there?"
"No; I understand he was in attendance on some sick relative, which
detained him from his friends," said Mrs. Wilson, wondering why the doctor
chose to introduce so delicate a topic. Of his guilt in relation to Mrs.
Fitzgerald he was doubtless ignorant, but surely not of his marriage.
"It is now some time since I heard from him," continued the doctor,
regarding Mrs. Wilson expressively, but to which the lady only replied
with a gentle inclination of the body; and the Rector, after pausing a
moment, continued:
"You will not think me impertinent if I am bold enough to ask, has George
ever expressed a wish to become connected with your niece by other ties
than those of friendship?"
"He did," answered the widow, after a little hesitation.
"He did, and--"
"Was refused," continued Mrs. Wilson, with a slight feeling for the
dignity of her sex, which for a moment caused her to lose sight of justice
to Denbigh.
Dr. Ives was silent; but manifested by his dejected countenance the
interest he had taken in this anticipated connexion, and as Mrs. Wilson
had spoken with ill-concealed reluctance on the subject at all, the Rector
did not attempt a renewal of the disagreeable.