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Tales And Novels, Volume 1 by Maria Edgeworth

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




When they returned home, Mr. Mountague found that Helen conversed with
him with all her own ingenuous freedom, but there was something more of
softness and dignity, and less of sprightliness, than formerly in her
manner. Even this happened to be agreeable to him, for it was in contrast
with the constant appearance of effort and artificial brilliancy
conspicuous in the manners of Lady Augusta. The constant round of cards
and company, the noise and bustle at S---- Hall, made it more like town
than country life, and he had often observed that, in the intervals
between dressing, and visiting, and gallantry, his fair mistress was
frequently subject to _ennui_. He recollected that, in the many domestic
hours he had spent at Mrs. Temple's, he had never beheld this French
demon, who makes the votaries of dissipation and idleness his victims.
What advantage has a man, in judging of female character, who can see a
woman in the midst of her own family, "who can read her history" in the
eyes of those who know her most intimately, who can see her conduct as a
daughter and a sister, and in the most important relations of life can
form a certain judgment from what she has been, of what she is likely to
be? But how can a man judge what sort of wife he may probably expect in a
lady, whom he meets with only at public places, or whom he never sees
even at her own house, without all the advantages or disadvantages of
_stage decoration_? A man who marries a showy, entertaining coquette, and
expects that she will make him a charming companion for life, commits as
absurd a blunder as that of the famous nobleman, who, delighted with the
wit and humour of Punch at a puppet-show, bought Punch, and ordered him
to be sent home for his private amusement.

Whether all or any of these reflections occurred to Mr. Mountague during
his morning visit at Mrs. Temple's we cannot pretend to say; but his
silence and absence seemed to show that his thoughts were busily engaged.
Never did Helen appear to him so amiable as she did this morning, when
the dignity, delicacy, and simplicity of her manners were contrasted in
his imagination with the caprice and coquetry of his new mistress. He
felt a secret idea that he was beloved, and a sober certainty that Helen
had a heart capable of sincere and permanent affection, joined to a
cultivated understanding and reasonable principles, which would wear
through life, and ensure happiness, with power superior to the magic of
passion.

It was with some difficulty that he asked Helen for Gaudentio di Lucca,
and with yet greater difficulty that he took leave of her. As he was
riding towards S---- Hall, "revolving in his altered mind the various
turns of fate below," he was suddenly roused from his meditations by the
sight of a phaeton overturned in the middle of the road, another phaeton
and four empty, and a group of people gathered near a bank by the
road-side. Mr. Mountague rode up as fast as possible to the scene of
action: the overturned phaeton was Lord George's, the other Lady Di.
Spanker's; the group of people was composed of several servants, Lord
George, Lady Di., and mademoiselle, all surrounding a fainting fair one,
who was no other than Lady Augusta herself. Lord George was shaking his
own arms, legs, and head, to make himself sure of their safety. Lady Di.
eagerly told the whole story to Mr. Mountague, that Lord George had been
running races with her, and by his confounded bad driving had overturned
himself and Lady Augusta. "Poor thing, she's not hurt at all, luckily;
but she's terrified to death, as usual, and she has been going from one
fainting fit to another."

"_Bon Dieu!_" interrupted mademoiselle; "but what will Miladi S---- say
to us? I wish Miladi Augusta would come to her senses."

Lady Augusta opened her beautiful eyes, and, just come sufficiently to
her senses to observe who was looking at her, she put aside
mademoiselle's smelling-bottle, and, in a soft voice, begged to have her
own salts. Mademoiselle felt in one of her ladyship's pockets for the
salts in vain: Lady Di. plunged her hand into her other pocket, and
pulled out, in the first place, a book, which she threw upon the bank,
and then came out the salts. In due time the lady was happily restored to
the full use of her senses, and was put into her mother's coach, which
had been sent for to convey her home. The carriages drove away, and Mr.
Mountague was just mounting his horse, when he saw the book which had
been pulled out of Lady Augusta's pocket, and which, by mistake, was left
where it had been thrown upon the grass. What was his astonishment, when
upon opening it, he saw one of the very worst hooks in the French
language; a book which never could have been found in the possession of
any woman of delicacy--of decency. Her lover stood for some minutes in
silent amazement, disgust, and, we may add, terror.

These feelings had by no means subsided in his mind, when, upon his
entering the drawing-room at S---- Hall, he was accosted by Mlle.
Panache, who, with no small degree of alarm in her countenance, inquired
whether he knew any thing of the book which had been left upon the road.
No one was in the room but the governess and her pupil. Mr. Mountague
produced the book, and Lady Augusta received it with a deep blush.

"Put a good face upon the matter at least," whispered her governess in
French.

"I can assure you," said her ladyship, "I don't know what's in this book;
I never opened it; I got it this morning at the circulating library at
Cheltenham: I put it into my pocket in a hurry--pray what is it?"

"If you have not opened it," said Mr. Mountague, laying his hand upon the
book; "I may hope that you never will--but this is the _second_ volume."

"May be so," said Lady Augusta; "I suppose, in my hurry, I mistook--"

"She never had the first, I can promise you," cried mademoiselle.

"Never," said Lady Augusta. The assertions had not the power to convince;
they were pronounced with much vehemence, but not with the simplicity of
truth. Mr. Mountague was determined to have the point cleared up; and he
immediately offered to ride back to Cheltenham, and return the second
volume. At this proposal, Lady Augusta, who foresaw that her falsehood
would be detected, turned pale; but mademoiselle, with a laugh of
effrontery, which she thought was putting a good face upon the matter,
exclaimed,

"Eh! listen to me--you may spare yourself de trouble of your ride," said
she, "for the truth is, I have de first volume. _Mon Dieu!_ I have not
committed murder--do not look so shock--what signify what I read at my
age?"

"But Lady Augusta, your pupil!" said Mr. Mountague.

"I tell you she has never read one word of it; and, after all, is she
child now? When she was, Miladi S---- was very particular, and I, of
consequence and of course, in de choice of her books; but now, _oder
affaire_, she is at liberty, and my maxim is--_Tout est sain aux sains_."

Mr. Mountague's indignation was now strongly raised against this odious
governess, and he looked upon her pupil with an eye of compassion. "So
early, so young, tainted by the pernicious maxims of a worthless woman!"

"Eh, _donc_, what signify your silence and your salts?" cried
mademoiselle, turning to her.

"If I could be spared this scene at present," said Lady Augusta,
faintly--"I really am not well. We had better talk over this business
some other time, Mr. Mountague:" to this he acceded, and the lady gained
more by her salts and silence than her governess did by her garrulous
effrontery.

When she talked over the business with Mr. Mountague, she threw all the
blame upon mademoiselle, and she appeared extremely shocked and alarmed
at the idea that she had lessened herself by her _folly_, as she called
it, in the esteem of a man of superior sense and taste. It was perhaps
possible that, at this moment of her life, her character might have taken
a new turn, that she might really have been awakened to higher views and
nobler sentiments than any she had ever yet known; but the baleful
influence of her constant attendant and conductress prevailed against her
_better self_. Mademoiselle continually represented to her, that she did
not know or exert the whole of her power over Mr. Mountague; and she
excited her to caprice and coquetry. The fate of trifling characters is
generally decided by trifles: we must beg leave to relate the important
history of a turban.

Mlle. Panache, who piqued herself much upon her skill as a milliner, made
up a certain turban for Lady Augusta, which Dashwood admired extremely,
but which Mr. Mountague had the misfortune not to think perfectly
beautiful. Vexed that he should dare to differ from her in taste, Lady
Augusta could not rest without endeavouring to make him give up his
opinion: he thought that it was not worth while to dispute about a
trifle; and though he could not absolutely say that it was pretty, he
condescended so far as to allow that it might perhaps be pretty, if it
were put on differently.

"This is the way I always wear it--every body wears it so--and I shall
not alter it," said Lady Augusta, who was quite out of temper.

Mr. Mountague looked grave: the want of temper was an evil which he
dreaded beyond measure in a companion for life. Smiles and dimples
usually adorned Lady Augusta's face; but these were artificial smiles:
now passions, which one should scarcely imagine such a trifle could
excite, darkened her brow, and entirely altered the air of her whole
person, so as to make it absolutely disagreeable to her admirer. Lord
George, who was standing by, and who felt delighted with such scenes,
winked at Dashwood, and, with more energy than he usually expressed upon
any subject, now pronounced that, in his humble opinion, the turban was
quite the thing, and could not be better put on. Lady Augusta turned a
triumphant, insulting eye upon Mr. Mountague: he was silent--his silence
she took as a token of submission--in fact, it was an expression of
contempt. The next day, at dinner, her ladyship appeared in the same
turban, put on sedulously in the same manner. Lord George seated himself
beside her; and as she observed that he paid her unusual attention, she
fancied that at length his icy heart would thaw. Always more intent upon
making cages[6], Lady Augusta bent her mind upon captivating a new
admirer. Mr. Mountague she saw was displeased, but she now really felt
and showed herself indifferent to his opinion. How variable, how
wretched, is the life of a coquette! The next day Lord George's heart
froze again as hard as ever, and Lady Augusta lightened upon the
impassive ice in vain. She was mortified beyond measure, for her grand
object was conquest. That she might triumph over poor Helen, she had
taken pains to attract Mr. Mountague. Dashwood, though far beneath her
ladyship in fortune and in station, she deemed worth winning, as a man of
wit and gallantry. Lord George, to be sure, had little wit, and less
gallantry; but he was Lord George, and that was saying enough. In short,
Lady Augusta exacted tribute to her vanity without any discrimination,
and she valued her treasures by number, and not by weight. A man of sense
is mortified to see himself confounded with the stupid and the worthless.

[Footnote 6: Swift]

Mr. Mountague, after having loved like a madman, felt it not in the least
incumbent upon him to love like a fool; he had imprudently declared
himself an admirer of Lady Augusta, but he now resolved never to unite
himself to her without some more reasonable prospect of happiness. Every
day some petty cause of disagreement arose between them, whilst
mademoiselle, by her silly and impertinent interference, made matters
worse. Mademoiselle had early expressed her strong abhorrence of prudes;
her pupil seemed to have caught the same abhorrence; she saw that Mr.
Mountague was alarmed by her spirit of coquetry, yet still it continued
in full force. For instance, she would continually go out with Lord
George in his phaeton, though she declared, every time he handed her in,
"that she was certain he would break her neck." She would receive verses
from Dashwood, and keep them embalmed in her pocket-book, though she
allowed that she thought them "sad stuff."

However, in these verses something more was meant than met the ear. He
began with addressing a poem to her ladyship, called The Turban, which
her silly mother extolled with eagerness, and seemed to think by no means
inferior to the Rape of the Lock. Lady Augusta wrote a few lines in
answer to the Turban--reply produced reply--nonsense, nonsense--till
Dashwood now and then forgot his poetical character. Lady Augusta forgave
it; he, of course, forgot himself again into a lover in prose. For some
time the sonnets were shown to Lady S----, but at length some were
received, which it was thought as well not to show to any body. In short,
between fancy, flattery, poetry, passion, jest, and earnest, Lady Augusta
was drawn on till she hardly knew where she was; but Dashwood knew
perfectly well where he was, and resolved to keep his ground resolutely.

When encouraged by the lady's coquetry, he first formed his plans; he
imagined that a promise of a wedding-present would easily secure her
governess: but this was a slight mistake; avarice happened not to be the
ruling, or, at least at this time, the reigning passion of mademoiselle's
mind; and quickly perceiving his error, he paid assiduous court to her
vanity. She firmly believed that she had captivated him, and was totally
blind to his real designs. The grand difficulty with Dashwood was, not to
persuade her of his passion, but to prevent her from believing him too
soon; and he thought it expedient to delay completing his conquest of the
governess till he had gained an equally powerful influence over her
pupil. One evening, Dashwood, passing through a sheltered walk, heard
Lady Augusta and Mr. Mountague talking very loudly and eagerly: they
passed through the grove so quickly that he could catch only the words
"phaeton--imprudence."

"Pshaw! jealousy--nonsense."

"Reasonable woman for a wife."

"Pooh, no such thing."

"My unalterable resolution," were the concluding words of Mr. Mountague,
in a calm but decided voice; and, "As you please, sir! I've no notion of
giving up my will in every thing," the concluding words of Lady Augusta
pronounced in a pettish tone, as she broke from him; yet pausing for a
moment, Dashwood, to his great surprise and concern, heard her in a
softer tone add a _but_, which showed she was not quite willing to break
from Mr. Mountague for ever. Dashwood was alarmed beyond measure; but the
lady did not long continue in this frame of mind, for, upon going into
her dressing-room to rest herself, she found her governess at the glass.

"_Bon Dieu!_" exclaimed mademoiselle, turning round: "Miladi told me you
was gone out--_mais qu'est ce que c'est? vous voila pale_--you are as
white--_blanc comme mon linge_," cried she, with emphasis, at the same
time touching a handkerchief, which was so far from white, that her pupil
could not help bursting out into a laugh at the unfortunate illustration.
"_Pauvre petite! tenez_," continued mademoiselle, running up to her with
salts, apprehensive that she was going into fits.

"I am not ill, thank you," said Lady Augusta, taking the smelling bottle.

"But don't tell me dat," said mademoiselle: "I saw you walking out of de
window wid dat man, and I know dis is some new _demele_ wid him. Come,
_point de secret, mon enfant_. Has not he being giving you one good
lecture?"

"Lecture!" said Lady Augusta, rising with becoming spirit: "no,
mademoiselle, I am not to be lectured by any body."

"No, to be sure; dat is what I say, and, _surtout_, not by a lover. _Quel
homme!_ why I would not have him to pay his court to me for all de world.
Why, _pauvre petite_, he has made you look ten years older ever since he
began to fall in love wid you. Dis what you call a lover in England?
_Bon_, why, I know noting of de matter, if he be one bit in love wid you,
_mon enfant_."

"Oh, as to that, he certainly is in love with me: whatever other faults
he has, I must do him that justice."

"_Justice!_ Oh, let him have justice, _de tout mon caeur_; but I say, if
he be a man in love, he is de oddest man in love I ever happen to see; he
eat, drink, sleep, talk, laugh, _se possede tout comme un autre. Bon
Dieu!_ I would not give noting at all _myself_ for such a sort of a
lover. _Mon enfant_, dis is not de way I would wish to see you loved; dis
is not de way no man ought for to dare for to love you."

"And how ought I to be loved?" asked Lady Augusta, impatiently.

"_La belle question!_ Eh! don't every body, de stupidest person in de
world, know how dey ought to be love? _Mais passionnement,
eperdument_--dere is a--a _je ne sais quoi_ dat infailliblement
distinguish de true lover from de false."

"Then," said Lady Augusta, "you really don't think that Mr. Mountague
loves me?"

"Tink!" replied mademoiselle, "I don't tink about it; but have not I said
enough? Open your eyes; make your own _comparaisons_."

Before Lady Augusta had made her comparisons, a knock at the door from
her maid came to let her know that Lord George was waiting.

"Ah! milord George! I won't keep you den: _va t'en_."

"But now, do you know, it was only because I just said that I was going
out with Lord George that Mr. Mountague made all this rout."

"Den let him make his rout; _qu'importe? Miladi votre chere mere_ make
no objections. _Quelle impertinence!_ If he was milord duc he could not
give himself no more airs. _Va, man enfant_--Dis a lover! _Quel homme,
quel tyran!_ and den, of course, when he grows to be a husband, he will
be worserer and worserer, and badderer and badderer, when he grows to be
your husband."

"Oh," cried Lady Augusta, snatching up her gloves hastily, "my husband he
shall never be, I am determined. So now I'll give him his _coup de
grace_."

"_Bon!_" said mademoiselle, following her pupil, "and I must not miss to
be by, for I shall love to see dat man mortify."

"You _are_ going then?" said Mr. Mountague, gravely, as she passed.

"Going, going, going, gone!" cried Lady Augusta, who, tripping carelessly
by, gave her hand to the sulky lord; then springing into the phaeton,
said as usual--"I know, my lord, you'll break my neck;" at the same time
casting a look at Mr. Mountague, which seemed to say--"I hope you'll
break _your heart_, at least."

When she returned from her airing, the first glance at Mr. Mountague's
countenance convinced her that her power was at an end. She was not the
only person who observed this. Dashwood, under his air of thoughtless
gaiety, watched all that passed with the utmost vigilance, and he knew
how to avail himself of every circumstance that could be turned to his
own advantage. He well knew that a lady's ear is never so happily
prepared for the voice of flattery as after having been forced to hear
that of sincerity. Dashwood contrived to meet Lady Augusta, just after
she had been mortified by her late admirer's total recovery of his
liberty, and, seizing well his moment, pressed his suit with gallant
ardour. As he exhibited all those signs of passion which her governess
would have deemed unequivocal, the young lady thought herself justified
in not absolutely driving him to despair.

Where was Lady S---- all this time! Where?--at the card-table, playing
very judiciously at whist. With an indolent security, which will be
thought incredible by those who have not seen similar instances of folly
in great families, she let every thing pass before her eyes without
seeing it. Confident that her daughter, after having gone through the
usual routine, would meet with some suitable establishment, that the
settlements would then be the father's business, the choice of the jewels
hers, she left her dear Augusta, in the meantime, to conduct herself; or,
what was ten times worse, to be conducted by Mlle. Panache. Thus to the
habitual indolence, or temporary convenience of parents, are the peace
and reputation of a family secretly sacrificed. And we may observe, that
those who take the least precaution to prevent imprudence in their
children are most enraged and implacable when the evil becomes
irremediable.

In losing Mr. Mountague's heart, Lady Augusta's vanity felt a double
pang, from the apprehension that Helen would probably recover her
captive. Acting merely from the impulse of the moment, her ladyship was
perfectly a child in her conduct; she seldom knew her own mind two hours
together, and really did not foresee the consequences of any one of her
actions. Half a dozen incompatible wishes filled her heart, or, rather,
her imagination. The most immediate object of vanity had always the
greatest power over her; and upon this habit of mind Dashwood calculated
with security.

In the pride of conquest, her ladyship had rejoiced at her mother's
inviting Mrs. Temple and her daughters to an entertainment at S---- Hall,
where she flattered herself that Mr. Mountague would appear as her
declared admirer. The day, alas! came; but things had taken a new turn,
and Lady Augusta was as impatient that the visit should be finished, as
she had been eager to have the invitation sent. Lady S---- was not
precisely informed of all that was going on in her own house, as we have
observed; and she was, therefore, a little surprised at the look of
vexation with which her daughter heard that she had pressed Mrs. Temple
to stay all night. "My dear," said Lady S----, "you know you can sleep in
mademoiselle's room for this one night, and Miss Helen Temple will have
yours. One should be civil to people, especially when one sees them but
seldom." Lady Augusta was much out of humour with her mother's ill-timed
civility; but there was no remedy. In the hurry of moving her things at
night, Lady Augusta left in her dressing table drawer a letter of
Dashwood's--a letter which she would not have had seen by Miss Helen
Temple for any consideration. Our readers may imagine what her ladyship's
consternation must have been, when, the next morning, Helen put the
letter into her hand, saying, "There's a paper you left in your
dressing-table, Lady Augusta." The ingenuous countenance of Helen, as she
spoke, might have convinced any one but Lady Augusta that she was
incapable of having opened this paper; but her ladyship judged otherwise:
she had no doubt that every syllable of the letter had been seen, and
that her secret would quickly be divulged. The company had not yet
assembled at breakfast. She retired precipitately to her own room, to
consider what could possibly be done in this emergency. She at length
resolved to apply to Mr. Mountague for assistance; for she had seen
enough of him to feel assured that he was a man of honour, and that she
might safely trust him. When she heard him go down stairs to breakfast,
she followed, and contrived to give him a note, which he read with no
small degree of surprise.

"How to apologize for myself I know not, nor have I one moment's time to
deliberate. Believe me, I feel my sensibility and delicacy severely
wounded; but an ill-fated, uncontrollable passion must plead my excuse. I
candidly own that my conduct must appear to you in a strange light; but
spare me, I beseech you, all reproaches, and pardon my weakness, for on
your generosity and honour must I rely, in this moment of distress.

"A letter of mine--a fatal letter from Dashwood--has fallen into the
hands of Miss Helen Temple. All that I hold most dear is at her mercy. I
am fully persuaded that, were she to promise to keep my secret, nothing
on earth would tempt her to betray me; but I know she has so much the
habit of speaking of every thing to her mother, that I am in torture till
this promise is obtained. Your influence I must depend upon. Speak to
her, I conjure you, the moment breakfast is over; and assure yourself of
my unalterable gratitude.

"AUGUSTA ----."

The moment breakfast was over, Mr. Mountague followed Helen into the
library; a portfolio, full of prints, lay open on the table, and as he
turned them over, he stopped at a print of Alexander putting his seal to
the lips of Hephaestion, whom he detected reading a letter over his
shoulder. Helen, as he looked at the print, said she admired the delicacy
of Alexander's reproof to his friend; but observed, that it was scarcely
probable the seal should bind Hephsestion's lips.

"How so?" said Mr. Mountague, eagerly.

"Because," said Helen, "if honour could not restrain his curiosity, it
would hardly secure his secrecy."

"Charming girl!" exclaimed Mr. Mountague, with enthusiasm. Helen, struck
with surprise, and a variety of emotions, coloured deeply. "I beg your
pardon," said Mr. Mountague, changing his tone, "for being so abrupt. You
found a letter of Lady Augusta's last night. She is in great, I am sure
needless, anxiety about it."

"Needless, indeed; I did not think it necessary to assure Lady Augusta,
when I returned her letter, that I had not read it. I gave it her because
I thought she would not like to have an open letter left where it might
fall into the hands of servants. As she has mentioned this subject to
you, I hope, sir, you will persuade her of the truth; you seem to be
fully convinced of it yourself."

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