Tales and Novels, Vol. VII by Maria Edgeworth

M >> Maria Edgeworth >> Tales and Novels, Vol. VII

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43

"My affectionate love and old-fashioned duty to my dear mother--pray assure
her and my sisters that they shall hear from me, though I am going to have
'one foot on sea and one on land.'

"Tell dear Caroline the portfolio she made for me shall go with me to
the world's end; and Rosamond's _Tippoo Saib_ shall see the _West_
Indies--Gascoigne has been in the West Indies before now, and he says
and proves, that temperance and spice are the best preservatives in that
climate; so you need not fear for me, for you know I love pepper better
than port. I am called away, and can only add that the yellow fever there
has subsided, as an officer who arrived last week tells me. Our regiment is
just going to embark in high spirits.--God bless you all.

"Your affectionate son,

"G. Percy.

"P. S. Don't let my mother or Rosamond trust to newspaper reports--trust to
nothing but my letters;--Caroline, I know, is fit to be the sister, and I
hope will some time be the mother, of heroes."

CHAPTER IX.

Lord Oldborough expected that the prompt measure of despatching the
dangerous Godfrey to the West Indies would restore things to their former
train. For a week after Godfrey Percy's departure, Miss Hauton seemed much
affected by it, and was from morning till night languid or in the sullens:
of all which Lord Oldborough took not the slightest notice. In the course
of a fortnight Miss Falconer, who became inseparable from Miss Hauton,
flattering, pitying, and humouring her, contrived to recover the young
lady from this fit of despondency, and produced her again at musical
parties. She was passionately fond of music; the Miss Falconers played on
the piano-forte and sung, their brother John accompanied exquisitely on
the flute, and the Marquis of Twickenham, who was dull as "the fat weed
that grows on Lethe's brink," stood by--admiring. His proposal was made
in form--and in form the young lady evaded it--in form her uncle, Lord
Oldborough, told her that the thing must be, and proceeded directly to
decide upon the settlements with the Duke of Greenwich, and set the lawyers
to work. In the mean time, the bride elect wept, and deplored, and refused
to eat, drink, or speak, except to the Miss Falconers, with whom she was
closeted for hours, and to whom the task of managing her was consigned
by common consent. The marquis, who, though he was, as he said, much in
love, was not very delicate as to the possession of the lady's affections,
wondered that any one going to be married to the Marquis of Twickenham
could be so shy and so melancholy; but her confidantes assured him that
it was all uncommon refinement and sensibility, which was their sweetest
Maria's only fault. Excellent claret, and a moderately good opinion of
himself, persuaded the marquis of the truth of all which the Miss Falconers
pleased to say, and her uncle graciously granted the delays, which the
young lady prayed for week after week--till, at last, striking his hand
upon the table, Lord Oldborough said, "There must be an end of this--the
papers must be signed this day se'nnight--Maria Hauton shall be married
this day fortnight."--Maria Hauton was sent for to her uncle's study; heard
her doom in sullen silence; but she made no show of resistance, and Lord
Oldborough was satisfied. An hour afterwards Commissioner Falconer begged
admission, and presented himself with a face of consternation--Lord
Oldborough, not easily surprised or alarmed, waited, however, with some
anxiety, till he should speak.

"My lord, I beg pardon for this intrusion: I know, at this time, you are
much occupied; but it is absolutely necessary I should communicate--I feel
it to be my duty immediately--and I cannot hesitate--though I really do not
know how to bring myself--"

There was something in the apparent embarrassment and distress of Mr.
Falconer, which Lord Oldborough's penetrating eye instantly discerned to
be affected.--His lordship turned a chair towards him, but said not a
word.--The commissioner sat down like a man acting despair; but looking for
a moment in Lord Oldborough's face, he saw what his lordship was thinking
of, and immediately his affected embarrassment became real and great.

"Well, commissioner, what is the difficulty?"

"My lord, I have within this quarter of an hour heard what will ruin me for
ever in your lordship's opinion, unless your lordship does me the justice
to believe that I never heard or suspected it before--I have only to trust
to your magnanimity--and I do."

Lord Oldborough bowed slightly--"The fact, if you please, my dear sir."

"The fact, my lord, is, that Captain Bellamy, whose eyes, I suppose, have
been quickened by jealousy, has discovered what has escaped us all--what
never would have occurred to me--what never could have entered into my mind
to suspect--what I still hope--"

"The fact, sir, let me beg."

The urgency of Lord Oldborough's look and voice admitted of no delay.

"Miss Hauton is in love with my son John."

"Indeed!"

This "Indeed!" was pronounced in a tone which left the commissioner
in doubt what it expressed, whether pure surprise, indignation, or
contempt--most of the last, perhaps: he longed to hear it repeated, but
he had not that satisfaction. Lord Oldborough turned abruptly--walked
up and down the room with such a firm tread as sounded ominously to the
commissioner's ear.

"So then, sir, Miss Hauton, I think you tell me, is in love with Cornet
Falconer?"

"Captain Bellamy says so, my lord."

"Sir, I care not what Captain Bellamy says--nor do I well know who or what
he is--much less what he can have to do with my family affairs--I ask, sir,
what reason you have to believe that my niece is in love, as it is called,
with your son? You certainly would not make such a report to me without
good reason for believing it--what are your reasons?"

"Excuse me, my lord, my reasons are founded on information which I do not
think myself at liberty to repeat: but upon hearing the report from--"
The commissioner, in the hurry and confusion of his mind, and in his new
situation, totally lost his _tact_, and at this moment was upon the point
of again saying _from Captain Bellamy_; but the flash of Lord Oldborough's
eye warned him of his danger--he dropped the name.

"I immediately went to sound my son John, and, as far as I can judge, he
has not yet any suspicion of the truth."

Lord Oldborough's countenance cleared. The commissioner recovered his
presence of mind, for he thought he saw his way before him. "I thought it
my duty to let your lordship know the first hint I had of such a nature;
for how soon it might be surmised, or what steps might be taken, I must
leave it to your lordship to judge--I can only assure you, that as yet, to
the best of my belief, John has not any suspicion: fortunately, he is very
slow--and not very bright."

Lord Oldborough stood with compressed lips, seeming to listen, but deep in
thought.

"Mr. Commissioner Falconer, let us understand one another well now--as
we have done hitherto. If your son, Cornet Falconer, were to marry Maria
Hauton, she would no longer be my niece, he would have a portionless,
friendless, and, in my opinion, a very silly wife. He is, I think you say,
not very bright himself--he would probably remain a cornet the rest of his
days--all idea of assistance being of course out of the question in that
case, from me or mine, to him or his."

The awful pause which Lord Oldborough made, and his determined look, gave
the commissioner opportunity to reflect much in a few seconds.

"On the contrary," resumed his lordship, "if your son John, my dear sir,
show the same desire to comply with my wishes, and to serve my interests,
which I have found in the rest of his family, he shall find me willing and
able to advance him as well as his brother Cunningham."

"Your lordship's wishes will, I can answer for it, be laws to him, as well
as to the rest of his family."

"In one word then--let Cornet Falconer be married elsewhere, within
a fortnight, and I prophesy that within a year he shall be a
field-officer--within two years, a lieutenant-colonel."

Commissioner Falconer bowed twice--low to the field-officer--lower to the
lieutenant-colonel.

"I have long had a match in my eye for John," said the father; "but a
fortnight, my gracious lord--that is so very short a time! Your lordship
will consider there are delicacies in these cases--no young lady--it is
impossible--your lordship must be sensible that it is really impossible,
with a young lady of any family."

"I am aware that it is difficult, but not impossible," replied Lord
Oldborough, rising deliberately.

The commissioner took his leave, stammering somewhat of "nothing being
impossible for a friend," courtier, he should have said.

The commissioner set to work in earnest about the match he had in view
for John. Not one, but several fair visions flitted before the eye of his
politic mind. The Miss Chattertons--any one of whom would, he knew, come
readily within the terms prescribed, but then they had neither fortune nor
connexions. A relation of Lady Jane Granville's--excellent connexion, and
reasonable fortune; but there all the decorum of regular approaches and
time would be necessary: luckily, a certain Miss Petcalf was just arrived
from India with a large fortune. The general, her father, was anxious
to introduce his daughter to the fashionable world, and to marry her
for connexion--fortune no object to him--delicacies he would waive. The
commissioner saw--counted--and decided--(there was a brother Petcalf, too,
who might do for Georgiana--but for that no hurry)--John was asked by his
father if he would like to be a major in a year, and a lieutenant-colonel
in two years?

To be sure he would--was he a fool?

Then he must be married in a fortnight.

John did not see how this conclusion followed immediately from the
premises, for John was not _quite_ a fool; so he answered "Indeed!" An
_indeed_ so unlike Lord Oldborough's, that the commissioner, struck with
the contrast, could scarcely maintain the gravity the occasion required,
and he could only pronounce the words, "General Petcalf has a daughter."

"Ay, Miss Petcalf--ay, he is a general; true--now I see it all: well, I'm
their man--I have no objection--But Miss Petcalf!--is not that the Indian
girl? Is not there a drop of black blood?--No, no, father," cried John,
drawing himself up, "I'll be d--d...."

"Hear me first, my own John," cried his father, much and justly alarmed,
for this motion was the precursor of an obstinate fit, which, if John took,
perish father, mother, the whole human race, he could not be moved from the
settled purpose of his soul. "Hear me, my beloved John--for you are a man
of sense," said his unblushing father: "do you think I'd have a drop of
black blood for my daughter-in-law, much less let my favourite son--But
there's none--it is climate--all climate--as you may see by only looking at
Mrs. Governor Carneguy, how she figures every where; and Miss Petcalf is
nothing near so dark as Mrs. Carneguy, surely."

"Surely," said John.

"And her father, the general, gives her an Indian fortune to suit an Indian
complexion."

"That's good, at any rate," quoth John.

"Yes, my dear major--yes, my lieutenant-colonel--to be sure that's good. So
to secure the good the gods provide us, go you this minute, dress, and away
to your fair Indian! I'll undertake the business with the general."

"But a fortnight, my dear father," said John, looking into the glass: "how
can that be?"

"Look again, and tell me how it can _not_ be? Pray don't put that
difficulty into Miss Petcalf's head--into her heart I am sure it would
never come."

John yielded his shoulder to the push his father gave him towards the door,
but suddenly turning back, "Zounds! father, a fortnight!" he exclaimed:
"why there won't be time to buy even boots!"

"And what are even boots," replied his father, "to such a man as you? Go,
go, man; your legs are better than all the boots in the world."

Flattery can find her way to soothe the dullest, coldest ear _alive_. John
looked in the glass again--dressed--and went to flatter Miss Petcalf. The
proposal was graciously accepted, for the commissioner stated, as he was
permitted in confidence to the general, that his son was under the special
patronage of Lord Oldborough, who would make him a lieutenant-colonel in
two years. The general, who looked only for connexion and genteel family,
was satisfied. The young lady started at the first mention of an _early
day_; but there was an absolute necessity for pressing that point, since
the young officer was ordered to go abroad in a fortnight, and could not
bear to leave England without completing his union with Miss Petcalf. These
reasons, as no other were to be had, proved sufficient with father and
daughter.

John was presented with a captain's commission. He, before the end of the
fortnight, looked again and again in the glass to take leave of himself,
hung up his flute, and--was married. The bride and bridegroom were
presented to Lord and Lady Oldborough, and went immediately abroad.

Thus the forms of homage and the rights of vassalage are altered; the
competition for favour having succeeded to the dependence for protection,
the feudal lord of ancient times could ill compete in power with the
influence of the modern political patron.

Pending the negotiation of this marriage, and during the whole of this
eventful fortnight, Cunningham Falconer had been in the utmost anxiety that
can be conceived--not for a brother's interests, but for his own: his own
advancement he judged would depend upon the result, and he could not rest
day or night till the marriage was happily completed--though, at the same
time, he secretly cursed all the loves and marriages, which had drawn Lord
Oldborough's attention away from that embassy on which his own heart was
fixed.

Buckhurst, the while, though not admitted behind the scenes, said he
was sufficiently amused by what he saw on the stage, enjoyed the comedy
of the whole, and pretty well made out for himself the double plot. The
confidante, Miss Falconer, played her part to admiration, and prevailed
on Miss Hauton to appear on the appointed day in the character of a
_reasonable woman_; and accordingly she suffered herself to be led, in
fashionable style, to the hymeneal altar by the Marquis of Twickenham. This
denouement satisfied Lord Oldborough.

CHAPTER X.

The day after his niece's marriage was happily effected, Lord Oldborough
said to his secretary, "Now, Mr. Cunningham Falconer, I have leisure to
turn my mind again to the Tourville papers."

"I was in hopes, my lord," said the secretary (_se composant le visage_),
"I was in hopes that this happy alliance, which secures the Duke of
Greenwich, would have put your lordship's mind completely at ease, and that
you would not have felt it necessary to examine farther into that mystery."

"Weak men never foresee adversity during prosperity, nor prosperity during
adversity," replied Lord Oldborough. "His majesty has decided immediately
to recall his present envoy at that German court; a new one will be sent,
and the choice of that envoy his majesty is graciously pleased to leave to
me.--You are a very young man, Mr. Cunningham Falconer, but you have given
me such _written_ irrefragable proofs of your ability and information, that
I have no scruple in recommending you to his majesty as a person to whom
his interests may be intrusted, and the zeal and attachment your family
have shown me in actions, not in words only, have convinced me that I
cannot choose better for my private affairs. Therefore, if the appointment
be agreeable to you, you cannot too soon make what preparations may be
necessary."

Cunningham, delighted, made his acknowledgments and thanks for the honour
and the favour conferred upon him with all the eloquence in his power.

"I endeavour not to do any thing hastily, Mr. Cunningham Falconer," said
his lordship. "I frankly tell you, that I was not at first prepossessed in
your favour, nor did I feel inclined to do more for you than that to which
I had been induced by peculiar circumstances. Under this prepossession, I
perhaps did not for some time do justice to your talents; but I should be
without judgment or without candour, if I did not feel and acknowledge the
merit of the performance which I hold in my hand."

The performance was a pamphlet in support of Lord Oldborough's
administration, published in Cunningham's name, but the greater part of it
was written by his good genius in the garret.

"On _this_," said Lord Oldborough, putting his hand upon it as it lay
on the table, "on _this_ found your just title, sir, to my esteem and
confidence."

Would not the truth have burst from any man of common generosity, honour,
or honesty?--Would not a man who had any feeling, conscience, or shame,
supposing he could have resolved to keep his secret, at this instant, have
been ready to sink into the earth with confusion, under this unmerited
praise?--In availing himself falsely of a title to esteem and confidence,
then fraudulently of another's talents to obtain favour, honour, and
emolument, would not a blush, or silence, some awkwardness, or some
hesitation, have betrayed him to eyes far less penetrating than those of
Lord Oldborough? Yet nothing of this was felt by Cunningham: he made,
with a good grace, all the disqualifying speeches of a modest author,
repeated his thanks and assurances of grateful attachment, and retired
triumphant.--It must be acknowledged that he was fit for a diplomatist. His
credentials were forthwith made out in form, and his instructions, public
and private, furnished. No expense was spared in fitting him out for his
embassy--his preparations made, his suite appointed, his liveries finished,
his carriage at the door, he departed in grand style; and all Commissioner
Falconer's friends, of which, at this time, he could not fail to have many,
poured in with congratulations on the rapid advancement of his sons, and on
all sides exclamations were heard in favour of _friends in power_.

"True--very true, indeed. And see what it is," said Commissioner Falconer,
turning to Buckhurst, "see what it is to have a son so perverse, that he
will not make use of a good friend when he has one, and who will not accept
the promise of an excellent living when he can get it!"

All his friends and acquaintance now joining in one chorus told Buckhurst,
in courtly terms, that he was a fool, and Buckhurst began to think they
must be right.--"For here," said he to himself, "are my two precious
brothers finely provided for, one an envoy, the other a major _in esse_,
and a lieutenant-colonel _in posse_--and I, _in esse_ and _in posse_,
what?--Nothing but a good fellow--one day with the four in hand club, the
next in my chambers, studying the law, by which I shall never make a penny.
And there's Miss Caroline Percy, who has declined the honour of my hand, no
doubt, merely because I have indulged a little in good company, instead of
immuring myself with Coke and Blackstone, Viner and Saunders, Bosanquet and
Puller, or chaining myself to a special-pleader's desk, like cousin Alfred,
that galley-slave of the law!--No, no, I'll not make a galley-slave of
myself. Besides, at my mother's, in all that set, and in the higher circles
with Hauton and the Clays, and those people, whenever I appear in the
character of a poor barrister, I am scouted--should never have _got on_ at
all, but for my being a wit--a wit!--and have not I wit enough to make my
fortune? As my father says, What hinders me?--My conscience only. And
why should my conscience be so cursedly delicate, so unlike other men's
consciences?"

In this humour, Buckhurst was easily persuaded by his father to take
orders. The paralytic incumbent of Chipping-Friars had just at this time
another stroke of the palsy, on which Colonel Hauton congratulated the
young deacon; and, to keep him in patience while waiting for the third
stroke, made him chaplain to his regiment.--The Clays also introduced him
to their uncle, Bishop Clay, who had, as they told him, taken a prodigious
fancy to him; for he observed, that in carving a partridge, Buckhurst never
touched the wing with a knife, but after nicking the joint, tore it off,
so as to leave adhering to the bone that muscle obnoxious to all good
eaters.--The bishop pronounced him to be "a capital carver."

Fortune at this time threw into Buckhurst's hands unasked, unlooked-for,
and in the oddest way imaginable, a gift of no small value in itself,
and an earnest of her future favours. At some high festival, Buckhurst
was invited to dine with the bishop. Now Bishop Clay was a rubicund,
full-blown, short-necked prelate, with the fear of apoplexy continually
before him, except when dinner was on the table; and at this time a dinner
was on the table, rich with every dainty of the season, that earth, air,
and sea, could provide. Grace being first said by the chaplain, the bishop
sat down "_richly to enjoy_;" but it happened in the first onset, that
a morsel too large for his lordship's swallow stuck in his throat. The
bishop grew crimson--purple--black in the face; the chaplain started up,
and untied his neckcloth. The guests crowded round, one offering water,
another advising bread, another calling for a raw egg, another thumping his
lordship on the back. Buckhurst Falconer, with more presence of mind than
was shown by any other person, saved his patron's life. He blew with force
in the bishop's ear, and thus produced such a salutary convulsion in the
throat, as relieved his lordship from the danger of suffocation [Footnote:
Some learned persons assert that this could not have happened. We can only
aver that it did happen. The assertions against the possibility of the fact
remind us of the physician in Zadig, who, as the fable tells us, wrote a
book to prove that Zadig should have gone blind, though he had actually
recovered the use of his eye.--Zadig never read the book.]. The bishop,
recovering his breath and vital functions, sat up, restored to life and
dinner--he ate again, and drank to Mr. Buckhurst Falconer's health, with
thanks for this good service to the church, to which he prophesied the
reverend young gentleman would, in good time, prove an honour. And that he
might be, in some measure, the means of accomplishing his own prophecy,
Bishop Clay did, before he slept, which was immediately after dinner,
present Mr. Buckhurst Falconer with a living worth 400_l._ a year; a living
which had not fallen into the bishop's gift above half a day, and which, as
there were six worthy clergymen in waiting for it, would necessarily have
been disposed of the next morning.

"Oh! star of patronage, shine ever thus upon the Falconers!" cried
Buckhurst, when, elevated with wine in honour of the church, he gave an
account to his father at night of the success of the day.--"Oh! thou, whose
influence has, for us, arrested Fortune at the top of her wheel, be ever
thus propitious!--Only make me a dean. Have you not made my brother, the
dunce, a colonel? and my brother, the knave, an envoy?--I only pray to be a
dean--I ask not yet to be a bishop--you see I have some conscience left."

"True," said his father, laughing. "Now go to bed, Buckhurst; you may, for
your fortune is up."

"Ha! my good cousin Percys, where are you now?--Education, merit, male
and female, where are you now?--Planting cabbages, and presiding at a
day-school: one son plodding in a pleader's office--another cast in an
election for an hospital physician--a third encountering a plague in the
West Indies. I give you joy!"

No wonder the commissioner exulted, for he had not only provided
thus rapidly for his sons, but he had besides happy expectations for
himself.--With Lord Oldborough he was now in higher favour and confidence
than he had ever hoped to be. Lord Oldborough, who was a man little prone
to promise, and who always did more than he said, had, since the marriage
of his niece, thrown out a hint that he was aware of the expense it
must have been to Commissioner and Mrs. Falconer to give entertainments
continually, and to keep open house, as they had done this winter, for
his political friends--no instance of zeal in his majesty's service, his
lordship said, he hoped was ever lost upon him, and, if he continued in
power, he trusted he should find occasion to show his gratitude. This
from another minister might mean nothing but to pay with words; from Lord
Oldborough the commissioner justly deemed it as good as a promissory note
for a lucrative place. Accordingly he put it in circulation directly among
his creditors, and he no longer trembled at the expense at which he had
lived and was living. Both Mrs. Falconer and he had ever considered a good
cook, and an agreeable house, as indispensably necessary to those who would
rise in the world; and they laid it down as a maxim, that, if people wished
to grow rich, they must begin by appearing so. Upon this plan every thing
in their establishment, table, servants, equipage, dress, were far more
splendid than their fortune could afford. The immediate gratification
which resulted from this display, combining with their maxims of policy,
encouraged the whole family to continue this desperate game. Whenever the
timidity of the commissioner had started; when, pressed by his creditors,
he had backed, and had wished to stop in this course of extravagance; his
lady, of a more intrepid character, urged him forward, pleading that he
had gone too far to recede--that the poorer they were, the more necessary
to keep up the brilliant appearance of affluence. How else could her
daughters, after all the sums that had been risked upon them, hope to be
advantageously established? How otherwise could they preserve what her
friend Lady Jane Granville so justly styled the patronage of fashion?