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Tales And Novels, Volume 1 by Maria Edgeworth

M >> Maria Edgeworth >> Tales And Novels, Volume 1




Scarcely were the note and carriage despatched, before Herbert and
Favoretta stationed themselves at the window, that they might be ready to
give the first intelligence. Their notions of time and distance were not
very accurate upon this occasion; for before the carriage had been out of
sight ten minutes, they expected it to return; and they exclaimed, at the
sight of every coach that appeared at the end of the street, "Here's the
carriage!--Here he is!" But the carriages rolled by continually, and
convinced them of their mistakes.

Herbert complained of the dull light of the lamps, though the street was
remarkably well lighted; and he next quarrelled with the glare of the
flambeaux, which footmen brandished behind carriages that were unknown to
him. At length a flambeau appeared with which he did not quarrel.
Herbert, as its light shone upon the footman, looked with an eager eye,
then put his finger upon his own lips, and held his other hand forcibly
before Favoretta's mouth, for now he was certain. The coach stopped at
the door--Mad. de Rosier ran down stairs--Mrs. Harcourt and all the
family followed her--Herbert was at the coach door before Henri de Rosier
could leap out, and he seized his hand with the familiarity of an old
acquaintance.

The sympathy of all her joyful pupils, the animated kindness with which
Mrs. Harcourt received her son, touched Mad. de Rosier with the most
exquisite pleasure. The happiness that we are conscious of having
deserved is doubly grateful to the heart.

Mrs. Harcourt did not confine her attentions within the narrow limits of
politeness--with generous eagerness she exerted herself to show her
gratitude to the excellent governess of her children. She applied to the
gentleman who was at the head of the academy for the education of the
sons of French emigrants, and recommended Henri de Rosier to him in the
strongest terms.

In the meantime Lady N----, who had been warmly interested in Mad. de
Rosier's favour, and more by what she had seen of her pupils, wrote to
her brother, who was at Paris, to request that he would make every
possible inquiry concerning the property of the late Comte de Rosier. The
answer to her letter informed her that Mad. de Rosier's property was
restored to her and to her son by the new government of France.

Mrs. Harcourt, who now foresaw the probability of Mad. de Rosier's return
to France, could not avoid feeling regret at the thoughts of parting with
a friend to whom her whole family was sincerely attached. The plan of
education which had been traced out remained yet unfinished, and she
feared, she said, that Isabella and Matilda might feel the want of their
accomplished preceptress. But these fears were the best omens for her
future success: a sensible mother, in whom the desire to educate her
family has once been excited, and who turns the energy of her mind to
this interesting subject, seizes upon every useful idea, every practical
principle, with avidity, and she may trust securely to her own
persevering cares. Whatever a mother learns for the sake of her children,
she never forgets.

The rapid improvement of Mrs. Harcourt's understanding since she had
applied herself to literature, was her reward, and her excitement to
fresh application. Isabella and Matilda were now of an age to be her
companions, and her taste for domestic life was confirmed every day by
the sweet experience of its pleasures.

"You have taught me your value, and now you are going to leave me," said
she to Mad. de Rosier. "I quarrelled with the Duke de la Rochefoucault
for his asserting, that in the misfortunes of our best friends there is
always something that is not disagreeable to us; but I am afraid I must
stand convicted of selfishness, for in the good fortune of my best friend
there is something that I cannot feel to be perfectly agreeable."






MADEMOISELLE PANACHE.

SECOND PART[1]

[Footnote 1: The first part is in the Parent's Assistant, vol. iv.]


The tendency of any particular mode of education is not always perceived,
before it is too late to change the habits or the character of the pupil.
To superficial observers, children of nearly the same age often seem much
alike in manners and disposition, who, in a few years afterward, appear
in every respect strikingly different. We have given our readers some
idea of the manner in which Mrs. Temple educated her daughters, and some
notion of the mode in which Lady Augusta was managed by Mlle. Panache;
the difference between the characters of Helen and Lady Augusta, though
visible even at the early age of twelve or thirteen to an intelligent
mother, was scarcely noticed by common acquaintance, who contented
themselves with the usual phrases, as equally applicable to both the
young ladies. "Upon my word, Lady Augusta and Miss Helen Temple are both
of them very fine girls, and very highly accomplished, and vastly well
educated, as I understand. I really cannot tell which to prefer. Lady
Augusta, to be sure, is rather the taller of the two, and her manners are
certainly more womanly and fashioned than Miss Helen's; but then, Miss
Helen Temple has something of simplicity about her that some people think
very engaging. For my part, I don't pretend to judge--girls alter so;
there's no telling at twelve years old what they may turn out at
sixteen."

From twelve to sixteen, Lady Augusta continued under the direction of
Mlle. Panache; whilst her mother, content with her daughter's progress in
external accomplishments, paid no attention to the cultivation of her
temper or her understanding. Lady S---- lived much in what is called the
world; was fond of company, and fonder of cards, sentimentally anxious to
be thought a good mother, but indolently willing to leave her daughter
wholly to the care of a French governess, whose character she had never
taken the trouble to investigate. Not that Lady S---- could be ignorant
that, however well qualified to teach the true French pronunciation, she
could not be a perfectly eligible companion for her daughter as she grew
up: her ladyship intended to part with the governess when Lady Augusta
was fifteen; but from day to day, and from year to year, this was put
off: sometimes Lady S---- thought it a pity to dismiss mademoiselle,
because "she was the best creature in the world;" sometimes she rested
content with the idea, that six months more or less could not signify;
till at length _family reasons_ obliged her to postpone mademoiselle's
dismission: part of the money intended for the payment of the governess's
salary had been unfortunately lost by the mother at the card-table. Lady
Augusta consequently continued under the auspices of Mlle. Panache till
her ladyship was eighteen, and till her education was supposed to be
entirely completed.

In the meantime Mlle. Panache endeavoured, by all the vulgar arts of
flattery, to ingratiate herself with her pupil, in hopes that from a
governess she might become a _companion_. The summer months seemed
unusually long to the impatient young lady, whose imagination daily
anticipated the glories of her next winter's campaign. Towards the end of
July, however, a reinforcement of visitors came to her mother's, and the
present began to engage some attention, as well as the future. Amongst
these visitors was Lord George ----, a young nobleman, near twenty-one,
who was heir to a very considerable fortune. We mention his fortune
_first_, because it was his _first_ merit, even in his own opinion. Cold,
silent, selfish, supercilious, and silly, there appeared nothing in him
to engage the affections, or to strike the fancy of a fair lady; but Lady
Augusta's fancy was not fixed upon his lordship's character or manners,
and much that might have disgusted consequently escaped her observation.
Her mother had not considered the matter very attentively; but she
thought that this young nobleman might be no bad match for her Augusta,
and she trusted that her daughter's charms would make their due
impression on his heart. Some weeks passed away in fashionable negligence
of the lady on his part, and alternate pique and coquetry on hers,
whilst, during these operations, her confidante and governess was too
much occupied with her own manoeuvres to attend to those of her pupil.
Lord George had with him upon this visit a Mr. Dashwood, who was engaged
to accompany him upon his travels, and who had had the honour of being
his lordship's tutor. At the name of a _tutor_, let no one picture to
himself a gloomy pedant; or yet a man whose knowledge, virtue, and
benevolence, would command the respect, or win the affections, of
youth. Mr. Dashwood could not be mistaken for a pedant, unless a coxcomb
be a sort of pedant. Dashwood pretended neither to win affection nor to
command respect; but he was, as his pupil emphatically swore, "the best
fellow in the world." Upon this best fellow in the world, Mlle. Panache
fixed her sagacious hopes; she began to think that it would be infinitely
better to be the wife of the gallant Mr. Dashwood, than the humble
companion or the slighted governess of the capricious Lady Augusta.
Having thus far opened the views and characters of these various
personages, we shall now give our readers an opportunity of judging of
them by their words and actions.

"You go with us, my lord, to the archery-meeting this evening?" said Lady
S----, as she rose from breakfast--his lordship gave a negligent assent.

"Ah!" exclaimed Mlle. Panache, turning eagerly to Dashwood, "have you
seen _de uniforme?--C'est charmant_; and I have no small hand in it."

Dashwood paid he expected compliment to her taste. "Ah! _non_," said she,
"you are too good, too flattering; but you must tell me your judgment
without flattery! _Vous etes homme de gout_, though an Englishman--you
see I have got no _prejuges_." Dashwood bowed. "_Allons!_" said she,
starting up with vast gaiety: "we have got no time to lose. I have de
_rubans_ to put to de bow; I must go and attend my Diane."

"Attend her Diane!" repeated Dashwood, the moment the door was shut, and
he was left alone with Lord George. "Attend her Diane! a very proper
attendant." Lord George was wholly indifferent to propriety or
impropriety upon this, as upon all other subjects. "What are we to do
with ourselves, I wonder, this morning!" said he, with his customary
yawn; and he walked towards the window. The labour of finding employment
for his lordship always devolved upon his companion. "I thought, my
lord," said Dashwood, "you talked yesterday of going upon the water; the
river is very smooth, and I hope we shall have a fine day."

"I hope so too; but over the hill yonder it looks confounded black, hey?
Well, at any rate we may go down and make some of them get ready to go
with us. I'll take my black Tom--he's a handy fellow."

"But if you take black Tom," said Dashwood, laughing, "we must not expect
to have the ladies of our party; for you know mademoiselle has an
unconquerable _antipaty_, as she calls it, to a negro."

Lord George declared that, for this very reason, he would order black Tom
down to the water-side, and that he should enjoy her affectation, or her
terror, whichever it was, of all things. "I suppose," said he, "she'll
scream as loud as Lady Augusta screamed at a frog the other day."

"I'll lay you a wager I spoil your sport, my lord; I'll lay you a guinea
I get mademoiselle into the boat without a single scream," said Dashwood.

"Done!" said Lord George. "Two to one she screams."

"Done!" said Dashwood; and he hoped that, by proposing this bet, he had
provided his pupil with an object for the whole morning. But Lord George
was not so easily roused immediately after breakfast. "It looks terribly
like rain," said he, going back and forward irresolutely between the door
and the window. "Do you think it will rain, hey?"

"No, no; I'm sure it will not rain."

"I wouldn't lay two to one of that, however: look at this great cloud
that's coming."

"Oh! it will blow over."

"I don't know that," said Lord George, shaking his head with great
solemnity. "Which way is the wind?" opening the window. "Well, I believe
it may hold up, hey?"

"Certainly--I think so."

"Then I'll call black Tom, hey?--though I think one grows tired of going
upon the water," muttered his lordship, as he left the room. "Couldn't
one find something better?"

"Nothing better," thought Dashwood, "but to hang yourself, my lord,
which, I'll be bound, you'll do before you are forty, for want of
something better. But that's not my affair."

"Where's mademoiselle?" cried Lady Augusta, entering hastily, with a bow
and arrow in her hand: "I've lost my quiver: where's mademoiselle?"

"Upon my word I don't know," said Dashwood, assuming an air of interest.

"You don't know, Mr. Dashwood!" said Lady Augusta, sarcastically; "that's
rather extraordinary. I make it a rule, whenever I want mademoiselle, to
ask where you are, and I never found myself disappointed before."

"I am sorry, madam, you should ever be disappointed," said Dashwood,
laughing. "Is this your ladyship's _own_ taste?" added he, taking the
painted bow out of her hand. "It's uncommonly pretty."

"Pretty or not, Lord George did not think it worth while to look at it
last night. His lordship will go through the world mighty easily, don't
you think so, Mr. Dashwood?" Dashwood attempted an apology for his pupil,
but in such a sort, as if he did not mean it to be accepted, and then,
returning the bow to her ladyship's hand, paused, sighed, and observed,
that, upon the whole, it was happy for his lordship that he possessed so
much nonchalance. "Persons of a different cast," continued he, "cannot,
as your ladyship justly observes, expect to pass through life so easily."
This speech was pronounced in a tone so different from Dashwood's usual
careless gaiety, that Lady Augusta could not help being struck with it;
and by her vanity, it was interpreted precisely as the gentleman wished.
Rank and fortune were her serious objects, but she had no objection to
amusing herself with romance. The idea of seeing the gay, witty Mr,
Dashwood metamorphosed, by the power of her charms, into a despairing,
sighing swain, played upon her imagination, and she heard his first sigh
with a look which plainly showed how well she understood its meaning.

"Why now, was there ever any thing so provoking!" cried Lord George,
swinging himself into the room.

"What's the matter, my lord?" said Dashwood.

"Why, don't you see, it's raining as hard as it can rain?" replied his
lordship, with the true pathos of a man whose happiness is dependent upon
the weather. His scheme of going upon the water being now impracticable,
he lounged about the room all the rest of the morning, supporting that
miserable kind of existence, which idle gentlemen are doomed to support,
they know not how, upon a rainy day. Neither Lady Augusta nor her mother,
in calculating the advantages and disadvantages of an alliance with his
lordship, ever once considered his habits of listless idleness as any
objection in a companion for life.

After dinner the day cleared up--the ladies were dressed in their archery
uniform--the carriages came to the door, and Lord George was happy in the
prospect of driving his new phaeton. Dashwood handed the ladies to their
coach; for his lordship was too much engaged in confabulation with his
groom, on the merits of his off-leader, to pay attention to any thing
else upon earth.

His phaeton was presently out of sight, for he gloried in driving as fast
as possible; and, to reward his exertions, he had the satisfaction of
hearing two strangers, as he passed them, say--"Ha! upon my word, those
horses go well!" A postilion at a turnpike gate, moreover, exclaimed to a
farmer, who stood with his mouth wide open--"There goes Lord George! he
cuts as fine a figure on the road as e'er a man in England." Such was the
style of praise of which this young nobleman was silly enough to be vain.

"I've been in these three quarters of an hour!" cried he, exultingly, as
Lady S---- got out of her coach.

"There has been no shooting yet though, I hope?" said Lady Augusta.

"No, no, ma'am," replied Dashwood; "but the ladies are all upon the
green--a crowd of fair competitors; but I'd bet a thousand pounds upon
your ladyship's arrows. Make way there--make way," cried the man of
gallantry, in an imperious tone, to some poor people, who crowded round
the carriage; and talking and laughing loud, he pushed forward, making as
much bustle in seating the ladies as they could have wished. Being
seated, they began to bow and nod to their acquaintance. "There's Mrs.
Temple and her daughters," said Lady S----.

"Where, ma'am?" said Lady Augusta: "I'm sure I did not expect to meet
them here. Where are they?"

"Just opposite to us. Pray, Mr. Dashwood, who is that gentleman in brown,
who is talking to Miss Helen Temple?" "Upon my word I don't know, madam;
he bowed just now to Lord George."

"Did he?" said Lady Augusta. "I wonder who he is!"

Lord George soon satisfied her curiosity, for, coming up to them, he said
negligently, "Dashwood, there's young Mountague yonder."

"Ha! is that young Mountague? Well, is his father dead? What has he done
with that old quiz?"

"Ask him yourself," said Lord George sullenly: "I asked him just now, and
he looked as black as November."

"He was so fond of his father--it is quite a bore," said Dashwood. "I
think he'll be _a quiz_ himself in due time."

"No," said Lord George; "he knows better than that too in some things. He
has a monstrous fine horse with him here; and that's a good pretty girl
that he's going to marry."

"Is he going to be married to Miss Helen Temple?" said Lady S----. "Who
is he, pray? I hope a suitable match."

"That I can't tell, for I don't know what she _has_," replied Lord
George. "But Mountague can afford to do as he pleases--very good
family--fine fortune."

"Yes; old quiz made an excellent nurse to his estate," observed Dashwood;
"he owes him some gratitude for that."

"Is not he very young to settle in the world?" said Lady S----.

"Young--yes--only a year older than I am," said Lord George; "but I knew
he'd never be quiet till he got himself _noosed_."

"I suppose he'll be at the ball to-night," said Lady Augusta, "and then
we shall see something of him, perhaps. It's an age since we've seen the
Miss Temples any where. I wonder whether there's any thing more than
report, my lord, in this conquest of Miss Helen Temple? Had you the thing
from good authority?"

"Authority!" said Lord George; "I don't recollect my authority,
faith!--somebody said so to me, I think. It's nothing to me, at any
rate." Lady Augusta's curiosity, however, was not quite so easily
satisfied as his lordship's; she was resolved to study Mr. Mountague
thoroughly at the ball; and her habitual disposition to coquetry, joined
to a dislike of poor Helen, which originated whilst they were children,
made her form a strong desire to rival Helen in the admiration of this
young gentleman of--"very good family and fine fortune." Her ladyship was
just falling into a reverie upon this subject, when she was summoned to
join the archeresses.

The prize was a silver arrow. The ladies were impatient to begin--the
green was cleared. Some of the spectators took their seats on benches
under the trees, whilst a party of gentlemen stood by, to supply the
ladies with arrows. Three ladies shot, but widely from the mark; a fourth
tried her skill, but no applause ensued; a fifth came forward, a striking
figure, elegantly dressed, who, after a prelude of very becoming
diffidence, drew her bow, and took aim in the most graceful attitude
imaginable.

"Who is that beautiful creature?" exclaimed Mr. Mountague, with
enthusiasm; and as the arrow flew from the bow, he started up, wishing it
success.

"The nearest, by six inches, that has been shot yet," cried Dashwood.
"Here, sir! here!" said he to Mr. Mountague, who went up to examine the
target, "this is Lady Augusta S----'s arrow, within the second circle,
almost put out the bull's eye!" The clamour of applause at length
subsiding, several other arrows were shot, but none came near to Lady
Augusta's, and the prize was unanimously acknowledged to be hers.

The silver arrow was placed on high over the mark, and several gentlemen
tried to reach it in vain: Mr. Mountague sprung from the ground with
great activity, brought down the arrow, and presented it, with an air of
gallantry, to the fair victor.

"My dear Helen," said Emma to her sister, in a low voice, "you are not
well."

"I!" replied Helen, turning quickly: "why! can you think me so mean as
to--"

"Hush, hush! you don't consider how loud you are speaking."

"Am I?" said Helen, alarmed, and lowering her tone; "but then, why did
you say I was not well?"

"Because you looked so pale."

"Pale! I'm sure I don't look pale," said Helen--"do I?"

"Not now, indeed," said Emma, smiling.

"Was not it an excellent shot?" said Mr. Mountague, returning to them;
"but you were not near enough to see it; do come and look at it." Mrs.
Temple rose and followed him.--"I can't say," continued he, "that I
particularly admire lady archeresses; but this really is a surprising
shot."

"It really is a surprising shot," said Helen, looking at it quite at
ease. But a moment afterwards she observed that Mr. Mountague's eyes
were not intent upon the _surprising shot_, but were eagerly turned to
another side of the green, where, illuminated by the rays of the
setting sun, stood a beautiful figure, playing with a silver arrow,
totally unconscious, as he imagined, either of her own charms or his
admiration.--"Are you acquainted with Lady Augusta?" said Mr. Mountague.

"Yes," said Mrs. Temple. "Are you?"

"Not yet; but I have met her mother often in town--a silly, card-playing
woman. I hope her daughter is as little like her in her mind as in her
person." Here Mr. Mountague paused, for they had walked up quite close to
the seemingly unconscious beauty.--"Oh, Mrs. Temple!" said she, starting,
and then recovering herself, with an innocent smile--"is it you? I beg
ten thousand pardons," and, offering a hand to Helen and Emma, seemed
delighted to see them. Helen involuntarily drew back her hand, with as
much coldness as she could without being absolutely rude.

It was now late in the evening, and as the ball was to begin at ten, the
ladies called for their carriages, that they might drive to their
lodgings, in an adjacent town, to change their dress. In the crowd, Helen
happened to be pretty close behind Lady S----, so close, that she could
not avoid hearing her conversation.

"Dear ma'am!" an elderly lady in black was saying to her, "I can assure
you, your ladyship has been misinformed. I assure you, it is no such
thing. He's a relation of the family--he has paid a long visit in this
country, but then it is a parting visit to his uncle: he sets out
immediately for Italy, I'm told. I assure you, your ladyship has been
misinformed; he and his uncle are often at Mrs. Temple's; but depend upon
it he has no thoughts of Miss Helen."

These words struck Helen to the heart: she walked on, leaning upon her
sister's arm, who fortunately happened to know where she was going. Emma
helped her sister to recollect that it was necessary to get into the
carriage when the step was let down. The carriage presently stopped with
them at the inn, and they were shown to their rooms. Helen sat down, the
moment she got up stairs, without thinking of dressing; and her mother's
hair was half finished, when she turned round and said, "Why, Helen, my
dear! you certainly will not be ready."

"Shan't I, ma'am?" said Helen, starting up. "Is there any occasion that
we should dress any more?"

"Nay, my dear," said Mrs. Temple, laughing, "look in the glass at your
hair; it has been blown all over your face by the wind."

"It is a great deal of useless trouble," said Helen, as she began the
duties of the toilette.

"Why, Helen, this is a sudden fit of laziness," said her mother.

"No, indeed, mamma; I'm not lazy. But I really don't think it signifies.
Nobody will take notice how I am dressed, I dare say."

"A sudden fit of humility, then?" said Mrs. Temple, still laughing.

"No, ma'am; but you have often told us how little it signifies. When the
ball is over, every thing about it is forgotten in a few hours."

"Oh, a sudden fit of philosophy, Helen?"

"No, indeed, mother," said Helen, sighing; "I'm sure I don't pretend to
any philosophy."

"Well, then, a sudden fit of caprice, Helen?"

"No, indeed, ma'am!"

"No, indeed, ma'am!" said Mrs. Temple, still rallying her.--Why, Helen,
my dear, you have answered 'No, indeed, ma'am,' to every thing I've said
this half hour."

"No, indeed, mother," said Helen; "but I assure you, ma'am," continued
she, in a hurried manner, "if you would only give me leave to explain--"

"My dear child," said Mrs. Temple, "this is no time for explanations:
make haste and dress yourself, and follow me down to tea." Mr. Mountague
was engaged to drink tea with Mrs. Temple.

If you think books have dumbed down …
Alison Flood: Today we can take our laptops on the road, but could we use them to produce On The Road?

Kerouac's On the Road manuscript travels to the Midlands

John Crace swallows a very thirsty volume

Documentary to lay bare 'Narnia Code'

He wrote it in just three weeks, furiously and loudly tap-tap-tapping away on his typewriter on 12ft long reels of paper so that he did not have to stop, just writing writing writing fuelled only, he said, by coffee…

It became one of the most important American novels of the last century and yesterday the original manuscript - a scroll taped together with eight reels of paper - of Jack Kerouac's On The Road was unfurled in the UK for the first time.
Fifty years after the novel which more or less defined the Beat generation, was published in Britain, the Barber Institute in Birmingham is showing what is now one of the most valuable literary manuscripts in existence as part of its exhibition Jack Kerouac: Back On the Road.

The exhibition's curator Professor Dick Ellis said there had been a lot of competition to get the scroll which is itself spending a lot of time on the move, having toured a string of US cities and hitting the road to Rome once this show is over. "We're very excited indeed," he said. "This is an iconic manuscript. It is a record of the huge effort Kerouac put into composing it. It was 20 days of typing 6,500 words a day, flat out, in spontaneous composition. He wanted to record things with the most possible accuracy using the spontaneous technique. His typewriter became a compositional instrument.

"Truman Capote once accused Kerouac of typing rather than writing, I would say he was learning the ability of using the typewriter like a jazz instrument, like a saxophone. He also had an incredible memory. And he had great speed at typing, he became a lightning typist. He came to be able to use a typewriter in a way that has not been seen before or since. Kerouac said he wrote fast because the road was fast."

About 22 of the scroll's 120ft will be on display in a specially built cabinet and while visitors will have to slightly tilt their heads, Ellis believes they will get a much deeper knowledge of what Kerouac was all about. It comes to Birmingham courtesy of Jim Irsay, owner of the Indianapolis Colts, who bought it for $2.4m (£1.6m) in 2001 before agreeing to a tour. Of course, in the published novel, there are paragraph breaks but in the scroll, there are none. Kerouac did not have the time. The exhibition runs until January 28.

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