Tales And Novels, Volume 1 by Maria Edgeworth
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Maria Edgeworth >> Tales And Novels, Volume 1
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Mad. de Rosier followed the little hero, to witness his triumph _over
himself_. Grace happened to be with her mistress who was dressing.
"Mamma, I am come to do as you bid me," cried Herbert, walking stoutly
into the room: "Grace, here's the comb;" and he turned to her the tangled
locks at the back of his head. She pulled unmercifully, but he stood
without moving a muscle of his countenance.
Mrs. Harcourt, who saw in her looking-glass what was passing, turned
round, and said, "Gently, gently, Grace; indeed, Grace, you do pull that
poor boy's hair as if you thought that his head had no feeling; I am
sure, if you were to pull my hair in that manner, I could not bear it so
well."
"Your hair!--Oh, dear ma'am, that's quite another thing--but Master
Herbert's is always in such a tangle, there's no such thing as managing
it." Again Mrs. Grace gave a desperate pull: Herbert bore it, looked up
at Mad. de Rosier, and said, "Now, that was resolution, not obstinacy,
you know."
"Here is your little obedient and patient boy," said Mad. de Rosier,
leading Herbert to his mother, "who deserves to be rewarded with a kiss
from you."
"That he shall have," said Mrs. Harcourt; "but why does Grace pull your
hair so hard? and are not you almost able to comb your own hair?"
"Able! that I am. Oh, mother, I wish I might do it for myself."
"And has Mad. de Rosier any objection to it?" said Mrs. Harcourt.
"None in the least," said Mad. de Rosier; "on the contrary, I wish that
he should do every thing that he can do for himself; but he told me that
it was your desire that he should apply to Mrs. Grace, and I was pleased
to see his ready obedience to your wishes: you may be very certain that,
even in the slightest trifles, as well as in matters of consequence, it
is _our_ wish, as much as it is our duty, to do exactly as you desire."
"My dear madame," said Mrs. Harcourt, laying her hand upon Mad. de
Rosier's, with an expression of real kindness, mixed with her habitual
politeness, "I am sensible of your goodness, but you know that in the
slightest trifles, as well as in matters of consequence, I leave every
thing implicitly to your better judgment: as to this business between
Herbert and Grace, I don't understand it."
"Mother--" said Herbert.
"Madam," said Grace, pushing forward, but not very well knowing what she
intended to say, "if you recollect, you desired me to comb Master
Herbert's hair, ma'am, and I told Master Herbert so, ma'am, that's all."
"I do not recollect any thing about it, indeed, Grace."
"Oh dear, ma'am! don't you recollect the last day there was company, and
Master Herbert came to the top of the stairs, and you was looking at the
_organ's_ lamp, I said, 'Dear! Master Herbert's hair's as rough as a
porcupine's;' and you said directly, ma'am, if you recollect, 'I wish you
would make that boy's hair fit to be seen;' those _was_ your very words,
ma'am, and I thought you meant always, ma'am."
"You mistook me, Grace," said Mrs. Harcourt, smiling at her maid's eager
volubility: "in future, you understand, that Herbert is to be entire
master of his own hair."
"Thank you, mother," said Herbert.
"Nay, my dear Herbert, thank Mad. de Rosier: I only speak in her name.
You understand, _I am sure_, Grace, now," said Mrs. Harcourt, calling to
her maid, who seemed to be in haste to quit the room--"you, I hope,
understand, Grace, that Mad. de Rosier and I are always of one mind about
the children; therefore you need never be puzzled by contradictory
orders--hers are to be obeyed."
Mrs. Harcourt was so much pleased when she looked at Herbert, as she
concluded this sentence, to see an expression of great affection and
gratitude, that she stooped instantly to kiss him.
"Another kiss! two kisses to-day from my mother, and one of her own
accord!" exclaimed Herbert joyfully, running out of the room to tell the
news to Favoretta.
"That boy has a heart," said Mrs. Harcourt, with some emotion; "you have
found it out for me, Mad. de Rosier, and I thank you."
Mad. de Rosier seized the propitious moment to present a card of
invitation, which Herbert, with much labour, had printed with his little
printing-press.
"What have we here?" said Mrs. Harcourt, and she read aloud--
'Mr. Herbert Harcourt's love to his dear mother, and, if she be not
engaged this evening, he should be exceedingly glad of her company, to
meet Isabella, Matilda, Favoretta, and Mad. de Rosier, who have promised
to sup with him upon his own radishes to-night. They are all very
impatient for _your_ answer.'"
"My answer they shall have in an instant," said Mrs. Harcourt:--"why,
Mad. de Rosier, this is the boy who could neither read nor spell six
months ago. Will you be my messenger?" added she, putting a card into
Mad. de Rosier's hand, which she had written with rapidity:--
"Mrs. Harcourt's love to her dear little Herbert; if she had a hundred
other invitations, she would accept of his."
"Bless me!" said Mrs. Grace, when she found the feathers, which she had
placed with so much skill in her mistress's hair, lying upon the table
half an hour afterward--"why, I thought my mistress was going out!"
Grace's surprise deprived her even of the power of exclamation, when she
learned that her mistress stayed at home to sup with Master Herbert upon
radishes. At night she listened with malignant curiosity, as she sat at
work in her mistress's dressing-room, to the frequent bursts of laughter,
and to the happy little voices of the festive company who were at supper
in an adjoining apartment.
"This will never do!" thought Grace; but presently the laughter ceased,
and listening attentively, she heard the voice of one of _the young
ladies_ reading. "Oh ho!" thought Grace, "if it comes to reading, Master
Herbert will soon be asleep."--But though it had _come to reading_,
Herbert was, at this instant, broad awake.
At supper, when the radishes were distributed, Favoretta was very
impatient to taste them; the first which she tasted was _hot_, she said,
and she did not quite like it.
"_Hot_!" cried Herbert, who criticized her language, in return for
her criticism upon his radishes, "I don't think you can call a radish
_hot_--it is cold, I think: I know what is meant by tasting sweet, or
sour, or bitter."
"Well," interrupted Favoretta, "what is the name for the taste of this
radish which bites my tongue?"
"_Pungent_," said Isabella, and she eagerly produced a quotation in
support of her epithet--
"'And _pungent_ radish biting infant's tongue.'"
"I know for once," said Matilda, smiling, "where you met with that line,
I believe: is it not in Shenstone's Schoolmistress, in the description of
the old woman's neat little garden?"
"Oh! I should like to hear about that old woman's neat little garden,"
cried Herbert.
"And so should I," said Mrs. Harcourt and Mad. de Rosier. Isabella
quickly produced the book after supper, and read the poem.
Herbert and Favoretta liked the old woman and her garden, and they were
much interested for the little boy, who was whipped for having been
gazing at the pictures on the horn-book, instead of learning his lesson;
but, to Isabella's great mortification, they did not understand above
half of what she read--the old English expressions puzzled them.
"You would not be surprised at this, my dear Isabella," said Mad. de
Rosier, "if you had made as many experiments upon children as I have. It
is quite a new language to them; and what you have just been reading is
scarcely intelligible to me, though you compliment me so much upon my
knowledge of the English language." Mad. de Rosier took the book, and
pointed to several words which she had not understood--such as
"eftsoons," "_Dan_ Phoebus," and "_ne_ and _y_," which had made many
lines incomprehensible.
Herbert, when he heard Mad. de Rosier confess her ignorance, began to
take courage, and came forward with his confessions.
"_Gingerbread y rare_," he thought, was some particular kind of
gingerbread; and "_Apples with cabbage net y covered o'er_" presented no
delightful image to his mind, because, as he said, he did not know what
the word _netycovered_ could mean.
These mistakes occasioned some laughter; but as Herbert perceived that he
was no longer thought stupid, he took all the laughter with good humour,
and he determined to follow, in future, Mad. de Rosier's example, in
pointing out the words which were puzzling.
Grace was astonished, at the conclusion of the evening, to find Master
Herbert in such high spirits. The next day she heard sounds of woe,
sounds agreeable to her wishes--Favoretta crying upon the stairs. It had
been a rainy morning: Favoretta and Herbert had been disappointed in not
being able to walk out; and after having been amused the preceding
evening, they were less disposed to bear disappointment, and less
inclined to employ themselves than usual. Favoretta had finished her
little basket, and her mother had promised that it should appear at the
dessert; but it wanted some hours of dinner-time; and between the making
and the performance of a promise, how long the time appears to an
impatient child! how many events happen which may change the mind of the
promiser!
Mad. de Rosier had lent Favoretta and Herbert, for their amusement, the
first number of "The Cabinet of Quadrupeds," in which there are beautiful
prints; but, unfortunately, some dispute arose between the children.
Favoretta thought her brother looked too long at the hunchbacked camel;
he accused her of turning over leaves before she had half seen the
prints; but she listened not to his just reproaches, for she had caught a
glimpse of the royal tiger springing upon Mr. Munro, and she could no
longer restrain her impatience. Each party began to pull at the book; and
the camel and the royal tiger were both in imminent danger of being torn
in pieces, when Mad. de Rosier interfered, parted the combatants, and
sent them into separate rooms, as it was her custom to do, whenever they
could not agree together.
Grace, the moment she heard Favoretta crying, went up to the room where
she was, and made her tiptoe approaches, addressing Favoretta in a tone
of compassion, which, to a child's unpractised ear, might appear,
perhaps, the natural voice of sympathy. The sobbing child hid her face in
Grace's lap; and when she had told her complaint against Mad. de Rosier,
Grace comforted her for the loss of the royal tiger by the present of a
queen-cake. Grace did not dare to stay long in the room, lest Mad. de
Rosier should detect her; she therefore left the little girl, with a
strict charge "not to say a word of the queen-cake to her governess."
Favoretta kept the queen-cake, that she might divide it with Herbert; for
she now recollected that she had been most to blame in the dispute about
the prints. Herbert absolutely refused, however, to have any share of the
cake, and he strongly urged his sister to return it to Grace.
Herbert had, _formerly_, to use his own expression, been accused of being
fond of eating, and so, perhaps, he was; but since he had acquired other
pleasures, those of affection and employment, his love of eating had
diminished so much, that he had eaten only one of his own radishes,
because he felt more pleasure in distributing the rest to his mother and
sisters.
It was with some difficulty that he prevailed upon Favoretta to restore
the queen-cake: the arguments that he used we shall not detail, but he
concluded with promising, that, if Favoretta would return the cake, he
would ask Mad. de Rosier, the next time they passed by the pastrycook's
shop, to give them some queen-cakes--"and I dare say she will give us
some, for she is much more _really_ good-natured than Grace."
Favoretta, with this hope of a future queen-cake, in addition to
all her brother's arguments, at last determined to return Grace's
present--"Herbert says I had better give it you back again," said she,
"because Mad. de Rosier does not know it."
Grace was somewhat surprised by the effect of Herbert's oratory, and she
saw that she must change her ground. The next day, when the children were
walking with Mad. de Rosier by a pastrycook's shop, Herbert, with an
honest countenance, asked Mad. de Rosier to give Favoretta and him a
queen-cake. She complied, for she was glad to find that he always asked
frankly for what he wanted; and yet that he bore refusals with good
humour.
Just as Herbert was going to eat his queen-cake, he heard the sound of
music in the street; he went to the door, and saw a poor man who was
playing on the dulcimer--a little boy was with him, who looked extremely
thin and hungry--he asked Herbert for some halfpence.
"I have no money of my own," said Herbert, "but I can give you this,
which is my own."
Mad. de Rosier held his hand back, which he had just stretched out to
offer his queen-cake; she advised him to exchange it for something more
substantial; she told him that he might have two buns for one queen-cake.
He immediately changed it for two buns, and gave them to the little boy,
who thanked him heartily. The man who was playing on the dulcimer asked
where Herbert lived, and promised to stop at his door to play a tune for
him, which he seemed to like particularly.
Convinced by the affair of the queen-cake that Herbert's influence was a
matter of some consequence in the family, Mrs. Grace began to repent that
she had made him her enemy, and she resolved, upon the first convenient
occasion, to make him overtures of peace--overtures which, she had no
doubt, would be readily accepted.
One morning she heard him sighing and groaning, as she thought, over some
difficult sum, which Mad. de Rosier had set for him; he cast up one row
aloud several times, but could not bring the total twice to the same
thing. When he took his sum to Mad. de Rosier, who was dressing, he was
kept waiting a few minutes at the door, because Favoretta was not
dressed. The young gentleman became a little impatient, and when he
gained admittance his sum was wrong.
"Then I cannot make it right," said Herbert, passionately.
"Try," said Mad. de Rosier; "go into that closet by yourself, and try
once more, and perhaps you will find that you _can_ make it right."
Herbert knelt down in the closet, though rather unwillingly, to this
provoking sum.
"Master Herbert, my dear," said Mrs. Grace, following him, "will you be
so good as to go for Miss Favoretta's scissors, if you please, which she
lent you yesterday?--she wants 'em, my dear."
Herbert, surprised by the unusually good-natured tone of this request,
ran for the scissors, and at his return, found that his difficult sum had
been cast up in his absence; the total was written at the bottom of it,
and he read these words, which he knew to be Mrs. Grace's writing--"Rub
out my _figurs_, and write them in your own." Herbert immediately rubbed
out Mrs. Grace's figures with indignation, and determined to do the sum
for himself. He carried it to Mad. de Rosier--it was wrong: Grace stared,
and when she saw Herbert patiently stand beside Mad. de Rosier and repeat
his efforts, she gave up all idea of obtaining any influence over him.
"Mad. de Rosier," said she to herself, "has bewitched 'em all; I think
it's odd one can't find out her art!"
Mrs. Grace seemed to think that she could catch the knack of educating
children, as she had surreptitiously learnt, from a fashionable
hairdresser, the art of dressing hair. Ever since Mrs. Harcourt had
spoken in such a decided manner respecting Mad. de Rosier, her maid had
artfully maintained the greatest appearance of respect for that lady, in
her mistress's presence, and had even been scrupulous, to a troublesome
extreme, in obeying _the governess's orders_; and by a studied show of
attachment to Mrs. Harcourt, and much alacrity at her toilette, she had,
as she flattered herself, secured a fresh portion of favour.
One morning Mrs. Harcourt found, when she awoke, that she had a headache,
and a slight feverish complaint. She had caught cold the night before in
coming out of a warm assembly-room. Mrs. Grace affected to be much
alarmed at her mistress's indisposition, and urged her to send
immediately for Dr. X----. To this Mrs. Harcourt half consented, and a
messenger was sent for him. In the meantime Mrs. Harcourt, who had been
used to be much attended to in her slight indispositions, expressed some
surprise that Mad. de Rosier, or some of her children, when they heard
that she was ill, had not come to see her.
"Where is Isabella? where is Matilda? or Favoretta? what is become of
them all? do they know I am ill, Grace?"
"Oh dear! yes, ma'am; but they're all gone out in the coach, with Mad. de
Rosier."
"All?" said Mrs. Harcourt.
"All, I believe, ma'am," said Grace; "though, indeed, I can't pretend to
be sure, since I make it my business not to scrutinize, and to know as
little as possible of what's going on in the house, lest I should seem to
be too particular."
"Did Mad. de Rosier leave any message for me before she went out?"
"Not with me, ma'am."
Here the prevaricating waiting-maid told barely the truth in words: Mad.
de Rosier had left a message with the footman in Grace's hearing.
"I hope, ma'am," continued Grace, "you weren't disturbed with the noise
in the house early this morning?"
"What noise?--I heard no noise," said Mrs. Harcourt.
"No noise! dear ma'am, I'm as glad as can possibly be of that, at any
rate; but to be sure there was a great racket. I was really afraid,
ma'am, it would do no good to your poor head."
"What was the matter?" said Mrs. Harcourt, drawing back the curtain.
"Oh! nothing, ma'am, that need alarm you--only music and dancing."
"Music and dancing so early in the morning!--Do, Grace, say all you have
to say at once, for you keep me in suspense, which, I am sure, is not
good for my head."
"La, ma'am, I was so afraid it would make you angry, ma'am--that was what
made me so backward in mentioning it; but, to be sure, Mad. de Rosier,
and the young ladies, and Master Herbert, I suppose, thought you couldn't
hear, because it was in the back parlour, ma'am."
"Hear what? what was in the back parlour?"
"Only a dulcimer man, ma'am, playing for the young ladies."
"Did you tell them I was ill, Grace?"
It was the second time Mrs. Harcourt had asked this question. Grace was
gratified by this symptom.
"Indeed, ma'am," she replied, "I did make bold to tell Master Herbert,
that I was afraid you would hear him jumping and making such an uproar up
and down the stairs; but to be sure, I did not say a word to the young
ladies--as Mad. de Rosier was by, I thought she knew best."
A gentle knock at the door interrupted Mrs. Grace's charitable
animadversions.
"Bless me, if it isn't the young ladies! I'm sure I thought they were
gone out in the coach."
As Isabella and Matilda came up to the side of their mother's bed, she
said, in a languid voice--
"I hope, Matilda, my dear, you did not stay at home on my account--Is
Isabella there? What book has she in her hand?"
"Zeluco, mamma--I thought, perhaps, you would like to hear some more of
it--you liked what I read to you the other day."
"But you forget that I have a terrible headache--Pray don't let me detain
either of you, if you have any thing to do for Mad. de Rosier."
"Nothing in the world, mamma," said Matilda; "she is gone to take Herbert
and Favoretta to Exeter Change."
No farther explanation could take place, for, at this instant, Mrs. Grace
introduced Dr. X----. Now Dr. X---- was not one of those complaisant
physicians who flatter ladies that they are very ill when they have any
desire to excite tender alarm.
After satisfying himself that his patient was not quite so ill as Mrs.
Grace had affected to believe, Dr. X---- insensibly led from medical
inquiries to general conversation: he had much playful wit and knowledge
of the human heart, mixed with a variety of information, so that he could
with happy facility amuse and interest nervous patients, who were beyond
the power of the solemn apothecary.
The doctor drew the young ladies into conversation by rallying Isabella
upon her simplicity in reading a novel openly in her mother's presence;
he observed that she did not follow the example of the famous Serena, in
"The Triumphs of Temper." "Zeluco!" he exclaimed, in an ironical tone of
disdain: "why not the charming 'Sorrows of Werter,' or some of our
fashionable hobgoblin romances?"
Isabella undertook the defence of her book with much enthusiasm--and
either her cause, or her defence, was so much to Dr. X.----'s taste, that
he gradually gave up his feigned attack.
After the argument was over, and every body, not excepting Mrs. Harcourt,
who had almost forgotten her headache, was pleased with the vanquished
doctor, he drew from his pocket-book three or four small cards; they were
tickets of admittance to Lady N----'s French reading parties.
Lady N---- was an elderly lady, whose rank made literature fashionable
amongst many, who aspired to the honour of being noticed by her. She was
esteemed such an excellent judge of manners, abilities, and character,
that her approbation was anxiously courted, more especially by mothers
who were just introducing their daughters into the world. She was fond of
encouraging youthful merit; but she was nice, some thought fastidious, in
the choice of her young acquaintance.
Mrs. Harcourt had been very desirous that Isabella and Matilda should be
early distinguished by a person, whose approving voice was of so much
consequence in fashionable as well as in literary society; and she was
highly flattered by Dr. X----'s prophecy, that Isabella would be a great
favourite of this "nice judging" lady--"Provided," added he, turning to
Isabella, "you have the prudence not to be always, as you have been this
morning, victorious in argument."
"I think," said Mrs. Harcourt--after the doctor had taken his leave--"I
think I am much better--ring for Grace, and I will get up."
"Mamma," said Matilda, "if you will give me leave, I will give my ticket
for the reading party to Mad. de Rosier, because, I am sure, it is an
entertainment she will like particularly--and, you know, she confines
herself so much with us--"
"I do not wish her to confine herself _so_ much, my dear, I am sure,"
said Mrs. Harcourt, coldly, for, at this instant, Grace's representations
of the morning's music and dancing, and some remains of her former
jealousy of Mad. de Rosier's influence over her children's affections,
operated upon her mind. Pride prevented her from explaining herself
further to Isabella or Matilda--and though they saw that she was
displeased, they had no idea of the reason. As she was dressing, Mrs,
Harcourt conversed with them about the books they were reading. Matilda
was reading Hogarth's Analysis of Beauty; and she gave a distinct account
of his theory.
Mrs. Harcourt, when she perceived her daughter's rapid improvement, felt
a mixture of joy and sorrow.
"My dears," said she, "you will all of you be much superior to your
mother--but girls were educated, in my days, quite in a different style
from what they are now."
"Ah! there were no Mad. de Rosiers then," said Matilda, innocently.
"What sort of a woman was your mother, mamma?" said Isabella, "my
grandmother, mamma?"
"She--she was a very good woman."
"Was she sensible?" said Isabella.
"Matilda, my dear," said Mrs. Harcourt, "I wish you would see if Mad. de
Rosier has returned--I should be very glad to speak with her, for one
moment, if she be not engaged."
Under the veil of politeness, Mrs. Harcourt concealed her real feelings,
and declaring to Mad. de Rosier that she did not feel in spirits, or
sufficiently well, to go out that evening, she requested that Mad. de
Rosier would go, in her stead, to a dinner, where she knew her company
would be particularly acceptable.--"You will trust me, will you, with
your pupils for one evening?" added Mrs. Harcourt.
The tone and manner in which she pronounced these words revealed the real
state of her mind to Mad. de Rosier, who immediately complied with her
wishes.
Conscious of this lady's quick penetration, Mrs. Harcourt was abashed by
this ready compliance, and she blamed herself for feelings which she
could not suppress.
"I am sorry that you were not at home this morning," she continued, in a
hurried manner--"you would have been delighted with Dr. X----; he is one
of the most entertaining men I am acquainted with--and you would have
been vastly proud of your pupil there," pointing to Isabella; "I assure
you, she pleased me extremely."
In the evening, after Mad. de Rosier's departure, Mrs. Harcourt was not
quite so happy as she had expected. They who have only seen children in
picturesque situations, are not aware how much the duration of this
domestic happiness depends upon those who have the care of them. People
who, with the greatest abilities and the most anxious affection, are
unexperienced in education, should not be surprised or mortified if their
first attempts be not attended with success. Mrs. Harcourt thought that
she was doing what was very useful in hearing Herbert read; he read with
tolerable fluency, but he stopped at the end of almost every sentence to
weigh the exact sense of the words. In this habit he had been indulged,
or rather encouraged, by his preceptress; but his simple questions, and
his desire to have every word precisely explained, were far from amusing
to one who was little accustomed to the difficulties and misapprehensions
of a young reader.
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