Tales and Novels, Vol. VII by Maria Edgeworth

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

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"I must tell you what has happened to me since I came to the country. Do
you remember my receiving a very angry, very ill-spelled letter, from a
certain Farmer Grimwood of Pegginton, who swore, that if it cost him a
thousand guineas in gold he would have the law of _the doctor_--viz. Dr.
Leicester--about a tithe of peaches? My father, at my request, was so good
as to send for said Grimwood, and to prevent him from having recourse in
his ire to Attorney Sharpe. With prodigious difficulty, the angry farmer
was restrained till my arrival; when I came home, I found him waiting for
me, and literally foaming at the mouth with the furious desire for law.
I flatter myself, I did listen to his story with a patience for which
Job might have been admired. I was well aware that till he had exhausted
himself, and was practically convinced that he had nothing more to say,
he would be incapable of listening to me, or to the voice of the angel of
peace. When at last absolute fatigue of reiteration had reduced him to
silence, when he had held me by the button till he was persuaded he had
made me fully master of his case, I prevailed upon him to let me hear what
could be said on the opposite side of the question; and after some hours'
cross-examination of six witnesses, repeaters, and reporters, and after an
infinite confusion of _said I's, and said he's_, it was made clearly to
appear that the whole quarrel originated in the mistake of a few words in
a message which Dr. Leicester's agent had given to his son, a boy of seven
years old, who had left it with a deaf gate-keeper of seventy-six, who
repeated it to Farmer Grimwood, at a moment when the farmer was over-heated
and overtired, and consequently prone to _misunderstanding_ and to anger.
The most curious circumstance in the whole business is, that the word
peaches had never been mentioned by Dr. Leicester's agent in the original
message; and Dr. Leicester really did not know that Mr. Grimwood of
Pegginton was possessed of a single peach. Grimwood, though uncommonly
obstinate and slow, is a just man; and when I at last brought the facts
with indisputable evidence home to his understanding, he acknowledged that
he had been too hasty, rejoiced that he had not gone to law, begged the
doctor and the doctor's agent's pardon, thanked me with his whole honest
heart, and went home in perfect charity with all mankind. Mr. Sharpe, who
soon heard of the amicable conclusion of this affair, laughs at me, and
pronounces that I shall never make a lawyer, and that my friends need never
flatter themselves with the notion of my rising at the bar.

"Yours truly,

"A. PERCY.

"My letter was forgotten yesterday, and I am glad of it. Blessings on
Farmer Grimwood of Pegginton! Little did I think that he and his quarrel
about tithe peaches would have such happy influence on my destiny.
Blessings on Farmer Grimwood of Pegginton! I repeat: he has been the cause
of my seeing such a--of my receiving such a look of approbation--such a
smile! She is niece to our good rector--come to spend a few days with him.
Grimwood went to the vicarage to make up his quarrel with Dr. Leicester--I
do not know what he said of me, but I find it has left a very favourable
impression in the good doctor's mind. He came here yesterday, and brought
with him his charming niece. My dear Erasmus, you know that I have often
prayed that I might never fall in love _seriously_, till I had some
reasonable prospect of being able to marry; but I begin to retract my
prayer for indifference, and to be of opinion that the most prudent thing
a professional man can do is to fall in love--to fall in love with such
a woman as Sophia Leicester. What a new motive for exertion! Animated by
delightful hope, perseverance, even in the most stupid drudgery, will be
pleasure. Hope!--but I am far from hope--far at this instant from knowing
distinctly what I hope--or wish--or mean. I will write again soon and
explain."

CHAPTER XX.

In several successive letters of Alfred to his brother, the progress of
his attachment to Miss Leicester is described. Instead of paying a visit
of a few days to her uncle, it appears that she stayed at the vicarage
during the whole of Alfred's vacation. Her mother died, and, contrary to
the expectation I of some of her admirers, Miss Leicester was left in
possession of only a moderate fortune. She showed much dignity under these
adverse circumstances, with a charming mixture of spirit and gentleness
of disposition. The change in her expectations, which deprived her of
some of her fashionable admirers, showed I her the superior sincerity and
steadiness of Alfred's sentiments. No promises were given on either side;
but it appears, that Alfred was permitted to live and labour upon hope. He
returned to London more eager than ever to pursue his profession.

We trust that our readers will be fully satisfied with this abridgment of
the affair, and will be more inclined to sympathize with Alfred, and to
wish well to his attachment, than if they had been fatigued with a volume
of his love-letters, and with those endless repetitions of the same
sentiments with which most lovers' letters abound.

Let us now go on to the affairs of Erasmus Percy.

Mr. Panton, provoked by his daughter's coldness towards Lord Roadster, had
begun shrewdly to suspect that the lady must be in love with some other
person. His young physician was the only man on whom he could fix his
suspicions. Constance seemed to be on a more confidential footing with him
than with any of the visitors who frequented his house; she had spoken of
him in terms of high approbation, and had not contradicted her father when
he had, purposely to try her, pronounced Dr. Percy to be the handsomest
young fellow he knew. While these suspicions were secretly gaining strength
in the father's mind, a circumstance occurred which confirmed them at once,
and caused them to burst forth with uncontrolled violence of expression.

Dr. Percy was called in to prescribe for a sick lawyer, and from this
lawyer's conversation he learnt that Lord Runnymede was a ruined man, and
that his son Lord Roadster's extravagance had been the cause of his ruin.
Erasmus determined to put Mr. Panton upon his guard, and thus, if possible,
to prevent the amiable Constance from becoming a victim to her father's
absurd ambition. With this view he went to Mr. Panton's. The old gentleman
was gone to dine with his club. Mrs. Panton, in her elegant language,
desired he would leave his business with her. When he had explained the
purport of his visit, after a variety of vulgar exclamations denoting
surprise and horror, and after paying many compliments to her own sagacity,
all which appeared incompatible with her astonishment, Mrs. Panton
expressed much gratitude to Erasmus, mixed with suppressed satisfaction,
and significant nods which he could not quite comprehend. Her gratitude was
interrupted, and the whole train of her ideas changed, by the entrance of
a milliner with new caps and artificial flowers. She, however, retained
sufficient recollection of what had passed, to call after Erasmus when
he had taken his leave, and to insist upon his coming to her party that
evening. This he declined. Then she said he _must_ dine with her next day,
for let him be never so busy, he must dine somewhere, and as good dine with
somebody as with nobody--in short, she would take no denial. The next day
Erasmus was received with ungracious oddity of manner by old Panton--the
only person in the drawing-room when he arrived. Erasmus was so much struck
with the gloom of his countenance, that he asked whether Mr. Panton felt
himself ill. Panton bared his wrist, and held out his hand to Erasmus
to feel his pulse--then withdrawing his hand, he exclaimed, "Nonsense!
I'm as well as any man in England. Pray, now, Doctor Percy, why don't
you get a wig?"--"Why should I, sir, when I have hair?" said Erasmus,
laughing.--"Pshaw! doctor, what signifies laughing when I am serious!--Why,
sir, in my youth every decent physician wore a wig, and I have no notion of
a good physician without a wig--particularly a young one. Sir, many people
have a great objection to a young physician for many reasons. And take my
advice in time, Doctor Percy--a wig, a proper wig, not one of your modern
natural scratches, but a decent powdered doctor's bob, would make you look
ten years older at one slap, and trust me you'd get into practice fast
enough then, and be sent for by many a sober family, that would never think
of letting you within their doors without the wig; for, sir, you are too
young and too handsome for a physician--Hey! what say you to the wig?"
concluded Panton, in a tone of such serious, yet comical impatience, that
Erasmus found it difficult to restrain a smile, whilst he answered that he
really did not think his charms were so dangerous that it was necessary to
disguise them by a wig; that as to his youth, it was an objection which
every day would tend to lessen; and that he trusted he might obtain the
credit of being a good physician if he could cure people of their diseases;
and they would feel it to be a matter of indifference whether they were
restored to health by a doctor in a wig or without one.

"Indifference!" cried Panton, starting upright in his chair with passion.
"I don't know what you call a matter of indifference, sir; I can tell you
its no matter of indifference to me--If you mean me; for say that with
God's mercy you carried me through, what then, if you are doing your best
to break my heart after all--"

Mr. Panton stopped short, for at this instant Constance came into the
room, and her father's look of angry suspicion, and her blush, immediately
explained to Erasmus what had the moment before appeared to him
unintelligible. He felt provoked with himself for colouring in his turn,
and being embarrassed without any reason, but he recovered his presence
of mind directly, when Constance, with a dignified ingenuous modesty of
manner, advanced towards him, notwithstanding her father's forbidding look,
and with a sweet, yet firm voice, thanked him for his yesterday's friendly
visit to her mother.

"I wonder you a'n't ashamed of yourself, girl!" cried old Panton, choking
with passion.

"And I'm sure I wonder you a'n't ashamed of yourself, Mr. Panton, if you
come to that," cried Mrs. Panton, "exposing of your family affairs this way
by your unseasonable passions, when one has asked people to dinner too."

"Dinner or no dinner," cried old Panton, and he must have been strangely
transported beyond himself when he made that exclamation, "dinner or no
dinner, Mrs. Panton, I will speak my mind, and be master in my own house!
So, Doctor Percy, if you please, we'll leave the ladies, and talk over our
matters our own way, in my own room here within."

Dr. Percy willingly acceded to this proposal. Old Panton waddled as fast as
he could to show the way through the antechamber, whilst Mrs. Panton called
after him, "Don't expose yourself no more than you can help, my dear!"
And as Erasmus passed her, she whispered, "Never mind him, doctor--stand
by yourself--I'll stand by you, and _we'll_ stand by you--won't we,
Constance?--see her colour!"--"We have reason to be grateful to Dr. Percy,"
said Constance, gravely, with an air of offended modesty; "and I hope,"
added she, with softened sweetness of tone, as she looked at him, and saw
his feelings in his countenance, "I hope Doctor Percy is assured of my
gratitude, and of my perfect esteem."

"Come! what the devil?" cried old Panton, "I thought you were close behind
me."

"Now, doctor," cried he, as soon as he had fairly got Erasmus into his
closet, and shut the door, "now, doctor, I suppose you see I am not a man
to be imposed upon?"

"Nor, if you were, am I a man to impose upon you, sir," said Erasmus. "If
I understand you rightly, Mr. Panton, you suspect me of some designs upon
your daughter? I have none."

"And you won't have the assurance to deny that you are in love with her?"

"I am not in love with Miss Panton, sir: she has charms and virtues which
might create the strongest attachment in the heart of any man of feeling
and discernment who could permit himself to think of her; but I am not in a
situation in which I could, with honour, seek to win her affections, and,
fortunately for me, this reflection has probably preserved my heart from
danger. If I felt any thing like love for your daughter, sir, you may be
assured that I should not, at this instant, be in your house."

"A mighty fine speech, sir! and well delivered, for aught I know. You are a
scholar, and can speak sentences; but that won't impose on me, a plain man
that has eyes. Why--tell me!--didn't I see you within these two minutes
blushing up to the eyes, both of you, at one another? Don't I know when I
see men and women in love--tell me! Mrs. Panton--fudge!--And did not I see
behind my back, just now, the women conjuring with you?--And aren't you
colouring over head and ears with conscience this very instant?--Tell me!"

Erasmus in vain asserted his own and the young lady's innocence, and
maintained that blushing was no proof of guilt--he even adverted to the
possibility of a man's blushing for others instead of himself.

"Blush for me as much as you please, if it's me you allude to," cried
the coarse father; "but when my daughter's at stake, I make no bones of
speaking plain, and cutting the matter short in the beginning--for we all
know what love is when it comes to a head. Marrow-bones! don't I know that
there must be some reason why that headstrong girl won't think of my Lord
Runnymede's son and heir, and such a looking youth, title and all, as my
Lord Roadster! And you are the cause, sir; and I thank you for opening my
eyes to it, as you did by your information to Mrs. Panton yesterday, in my
absence."

Erasmus protested with such an air of truth as would have convinced any
person capable of being convinced, that, in giving that information, he had
been actuated solely by a desire to save Miss Panton from a ruinous match,
by honest regard for her and all her family.

"Ruinous!--You are wrong, sir--I know better--I know best--I saw my Lord
Runnymede himself this very morning--a little temporary want of cash only
from the estate's being tied up, as they sometimes tie estates, which all
noble families is subject to--Tell me! don't I know the bottom of these
things? for though I haven't been used to land, I know all about it. And
at worst, my Lord Roadster, my son-in-law that is to be, is not chargeable
with a penny of his father's debts. So your informer is wrong, sir, every
way, and no lawyer, sir, for I have an attorney at my back--and your
information's all wrong, and you had no need to interfere."

Erasmus felt and acknowledged the imprudence of his interference, but hoped
it might be forgiven in favour of the motive--and he looked so honestly
glad to hear that his information was all wrong, that old Panton at the
moment believed in his integrity, and said, stretching out his hand towards
him, "Well, well, no harm done--then it's all as it should be, and we may
ring for dinner--But," recurring again to his favourite idea, "you'll get
the wig, doctor?"

"Excuse me," said Erasmus, laughing, "your confidence in me cannot depend
upon a wig."

"It can, sir, and it does," cried Panton, turning again with all his anger
revived. "Excuse you! No, sir, I won't; for the wig's my test, and I told
Mrs. Panton so last night--the wig's my test of your uprightness in this
matter, sir; and I fairly tell you, that if you refuse this, all the words
you can string don't signify a button with me."

"And by what right, sir, do you speak to me in this manner?" cried Erasmus,
proudly, for he lost all sense of the ludicrous in indignation at the
insolent doubt of his integrity, which, after all the assurances he had
given, these last words from Mr. Panton implied: "By what right, sir, do
you speak to me in this manner?--And what reason can you have to expect
that I should submit to any tests to convince you of the truth of my
assertions?"

"Right! Reason!" cried Panton. "Why, doctor, don't you know that I'm your
patron?"

"My patron!" repeated Erasmus, in a tone which would have expressed much to
the mind of any man of sense or feeling, but which conveyed no idea to the
gross apprehension of old Panton except that Dr. Percy was ignorant of the
fact.

"Your patron--yes, doctor--why, don't you know, that ever since you set
me upon my legs I have been going up and down the city puffing--that
is, I mean, recommending you to all my friends? and you see you're of
consequence--getting into fine practice for so young a man. And it stands
to reason that when one takes a young man by the hand, one has a right to
expect one's advice should be followed; and as to the wig, I don't make it
a test--you've an objection to a test--but, as I've mentioned it to Mrs.
Panton, I must make it a point, and you know I am not a man to go back. And
you'll consider that if you disoblige me, you can't expect that I should
continue my friendship, and protection, and patronage, and all that."

"Be assured, sir, I expect nothing from you," said Erasmus, "and desire
nothing: I have the happiness and honour to belong to a profession, in
which, if a man merits confidence, he will succeed, without requiring any
man's patronage."--Much less the patronage of such a one as you! Erasmus
would have said, but that he commanded his indignation, or, perhaps, it was
extinguished by contempt.

A servant now came to announce that the company was arrived, and dinner was
waiting. In very bad humour, Mr. Panton, nevertheless, ate an excellent
dinner, growling over every thing as he devoured it. Constance seemed much
grieved by her father's unseasonable fit of rudeness and obstinacy; with
sweetness of temper and filial duty she bore with his humour, and concealed
it as far as she could from observation. Mrs. Panton was displeased with
this, and once went so far as to whisper to Erasmus that her step-daughter
wanted spirit sadly, but that he ought never to mind that, but to take a
broad hint, and keep his ground. Erasmus, who, with great simplicity and
an upright character, had quick observation and tact, perceived pretty
nearly what was going on in the family. He saw that the step-mother, under
an air of frank and coarse good-nature, was cunning and interested; that
she wished to encourage the daughter to open war with the father, knowing
that nothing could incense him so much as Constance's thinking of a poor
physician instead of accepting of an earl's son; Mrs. Panton wished then to
fan to a flame the spark which she was confident existed in his daughter's
heart. Erasmus, who was not apt to fancy that ladies liked him, endeavoured
to relieve Constance from the agonizing apprehension which he saw she felt
of his being misled by her mother's hints: he appeared sometimes not to
hear, and at other times not to understand, what Mrs. Panton whispered; and
at last talked so loud across the table to Mr. Henry, about letters from
Godfrey, and the officers of all the regiments in or out of England, that
no other subject could be introduced, and no other voice could be heard. As
soon as he decently could, after dinner, Dr. Percy took his leave, heartily
glad to escape from his awkward situation, and from the patronage of Mr.
Panton. Erasmus was mistaken, however, in supposing that Mr. Panton could
do him no harm. It is true that he could not deny that Dr. Percy had
restored him to health, and the opinion, which had spread in the city, of
Dr. Percy's skill, was not, and could not, be diminished by Mr. Panton's
railing against him; but when he hinted that the young physician had
practised upon his daughter's heart, all the rich citizens who had
daughters to watch began to consider him as a dangerous person, and
resolved never to call him in, except in some desperate case. Mrs. Panton's
gossiping confidences did more harm than her husband's loud complaints; and
the very eagerness which poor Constance showed to vindicate Dr. Percy,
and to declare the truth, served only to confirm the sagaciously-nodding
mothers and overwise fathers in their own opinions. Mr. Henry said and did
what he could for Erasmus; but what could be done by a young man shut up
all day in a counting-house? or who would listen to any thing that was said
by a youth without station or name? Mr. Gresham unluckily was at this time
at his country-seat. Poor Erasmus found his practice in the city decline
as rapidly as it had risen, and he began a little to doubt the truth of
that noble sentiment which he had so proudly expressed. He was comforted,
however, by letters from his father, who strongly approved his conduct, and
who maintained that truth would at last prevail, and that the prejudice
which had been raised against him would, in time, be turned to his
advantage.

It happened that, while old Panton, in his present ludicrous fit of
obstinacy, was caballing against our young physician with all his might
in the city, the remote consequences of his absurdities were operating in
Dr. Percy's favour at the west end of the town. Our readers may recollect
having heard of a footman, whom Mr. Panton turned away for laughing at his
perversity. Erasmus had at the time pleaded in the poor fellow's favour,
and had, afterwards, when the servant was out of place, in distress, and
ill, humanely attended him, and cured a child of his, who had inflamed
eyes. This man was now in the service of a rich and very fine lady, who
lived in Grosvenor-square--Lady Spilsbury. Her ladyship had several sickly
children--children rendered sickly by their mother's overweening and
injudicious care. Alarmed successively by every fashionable medical terror
of the day, she dosed her children with every specific which was publicly
advertised or privately recommended. No creatures of their age had
taken such quantities of Ching's lozenges, Godbold's elixir, or Dixon's
antibilious pills. The consequence was, that the dangers, which had at
first been imaginary, became real: these little victims of domestic
medicine never had a day's health: they looked, and were, more dead than
alive. Still the mother, in the midst of hourly alarms, was in admiration
of her own medical skill, which she said had actually preserved, in spite
of nature, children of such sickly constitutions. In consequence of this
conviction, she redoubled her vigilance, and the most trivial accident was
magnified into a symptom of the greatest importance.

It happened on the day when the eldest Miss Spilsbury had miraculously
attained her seventh year, a slight inflammation was discerned in her
right eye, which was attributed by her mother to her having neglected the
preceding day to bathe it in elder-flower water; by her governess, to her
having sat up the preceding night to supper; by her maid, to her having
been found peeping through a windy key-hole; and by the young lady herself,
to her having been kept poring for two hours over her French lesson.

Whatever might have been the original cause, the inflammation evidently
increased, either in consequence or in spite of the innumerable remedies
applied internally and externally--the eye grew redder and redder, and as
red as blood, the nose inflamed, and the mother, in great alarm for the
beauty as well as health of her child, sent for Sir Amyas Courtney. He had
already won Lady Spilsbury's heart by recommending to her the _honan tcha_,
or Tartar tea, which enables the Tartars to digest raw flesh, and tinges
water of a red colour.

Sir Amyas pronounced that the young lady had hereditary nerves, besought
Lady Spilsbury to compose herself, assured her the inflammation was
purely symptomatic, and as soon as he could subdue the continual nervous
inclination to shrivel up the nose, which he trusted he could in time
master, all would go well. But Sir Amyas attended every day for a month,
yet never got the mastery of this nervous inclination. Lady Spilsbury
then was persuaded _it could not be nerves, it must be scrofula_; and she
called in Dr. Frumpton, _the man for scrofula_. He of course confirmed her
ladyship in her opinion; for a week d----d nerves and Sir Amyas; threw in
desperate doses of calomel for another month, reduced the poor child to
what the maid called an _attomy_, and still the inflammation increased.
Lady Spilsbury desired a consultation of physicians, but Dr. Frumpton would
not consult with Sir Amyas, nor would Sir Amyas consult with Dr. Frumpton.
Lady Spilsbury began to dread that the sight of the eye would be injured,
and this idea terrified the mother almost out of her senses. In the
suspension of authority which terror produces in a family, the lady's-maid
usually usurps considerable power.

Now her ladyship's maid had been offended by Dr. Frumpton's calling her
_my good girl_, and by Sir Amyas Courtney's having objected to a green silk
bandage which she had recommended; so that she could not _abide_ either of
the gentlemen, and she was confident the young lady would never get well
while they had the management of affairs: she had heard--but she did not
mention from whom, she was too diplomatic to give up her authority--she had
heard of a young physician, a Dr. Percy, who had performed wonderful great
cures in the city, and had in particular cured a young _lady_ who had an
inflamed eye, just for all the world like Miss Spilsbury's. In this last
assertion, there was, perhaps, some little exaggeration; but it produced
a salutary effect upon Lady Spilsbury's imagination: the footman was
immediately despatched for Dr. Percy, and ordered to make all possible
haste. Thus by one of those petty underplots of life, which, often unknown
to us, are continually going on, our young physician was brought into a
situation where he had an opportunity of showing his abilities. These
favourable accidents happen to many men who are not able to make use of
them, and thus the general complaint is preferred of want of good fortune,
or of opportunity for talents to distinguish themselves.