Tales and Novels, Vol. VII by Maria Edgeworth

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

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The Count, recovering his presence of mind, and _presence_ of
_countenance_, turned to a little Cupid on the mantel-piece; and, playfully
doing homage before it, repeated,

"Qui que tu sois voici ton maitre,
Il l'est, le fut--ou le doit etre."

"Oh! charming--oh! for a translation!" cried Mrs. Falconer, glad to turn
the attention from Georgiana:--"Lady Frances--ladies some of you, Miss
Percy, here's my pencil."

Here they were interrupted by Mr. Percy's return from Lord Oldborough's.

The commissioner followed Mr. Percy into the room, and asked, and was
answered, a variety of questions about despatches from town; trying, but,
in vain, to find out what had been going forward. At last he ended with a
look of absence, and a declaration that he was quite happy to hear that
Lord Oldborough had _so_ completely got rid of his gout.

"Completely," said Mr. Percy; "and he desires me to tell you, that it will
be necessary for him to return to town in a few days."

"In a few days!" cried the commissioner.

"In a few days!" repeated several voices, in different tones.

"In a few days!--Gracious Heaven! and what will become of 'the Lord of the
Manor!'" cried Miss Falconer.

"Gently, my Arabella! never raise your voice so high--you, who are a
musician," said Mrs. Falconer, "and so sweet a voice as you have--in
general. Besides," added she, drawing her apart, "you forget that you
should not speak of 'the Lord of the Manor' before the Percys, as they
are not to be asked."

"To be sure. Pray keep your temper, Bell, if you can, for a minute,"
whispered Miss Georgiana; "you see they have rung for the carriage."

Mrs. Falconer began to entreat Mrs. Percy would not be in a hurry to run
away; but to her great joy the carriage came to the door.

At parting with Count Altenberg, Mr. Percy said that he regretted that they
were so soon to lose his company in this part of the world. "We, who live
so much retired, shall feel the loss particularly."

The Count, evidently agitated, only said, in a low voice, "We are not
parting yet--we shall meet again--I hope--do you ever go to London?"

"Never."

"At all events, we _must_ meet again," said the Count.

The ladies had all collected at the open windows, to see the departure of
the Percys; but Miss Georgiana Falconer could learn nothing from the manner
in which the Count handed Caroline into the carriage. It did not appear
even that he spoke to her.

On his return, the Miss Falconers, and the Lady Arlingtons, were of course
talking of those who had just left the house. There was at first but one
voice in praise of Caroline's beauty and talents, elegance, and simplicity
of manner. Mrs. Falconer set the example; Lady Frances Arlington and Miss
Georgiana Falconer extolled her in the highest terms--one to provoke, the
other not to appear provoked.

"La!" said Lady Frances, "how we may mistake even the people we know
best--Georgiana, can you conceive it? I never should have guessed, if you
had not told me, that Miss Caroline Percy was such a favourite of yours. Do
you know now, so little penetration have I, I should have thought that you
rather disliked her?"

"You are quite right, my dear Lady Frances," cried Mrs. Falconer; "I give
you credit for your penetration: _entre nous_, Miss Caroline Percy is no
favourite of Georgiana."

Georgiana actually opened her eyes with astonishment, and thought her
mother did not know what she was saying, and that she certainly did not
perceive that Count Altenberg was in the room.

"Count Altenberg, is this the book you are looking for?" said the young
lady, pronouncing Count Altenberg's name very distinctly, to put her mother
on her guard.

Mrs. Falconer continued precisely in the same tone. "Georgiana does
justice, I am sure, to Miss Percy's merit and charms; but the truth is,
she does not like her, and Georgiana has too much frankness to conceal it;
and now come here, and I will tell you the reason." In a half whisper,
but perfectly intelligible to every one in the room, Mrs. Falconer went
on--"Georgiana's favourite brother, Buckhurst--did you never hear it? In
days of yore, there was an attachment--Buckhurst, you know, is very ardent
in his attachments--desperately in love he was--and no wonder. But at
that time he was nobody--he was unprovided for, and the young lady had a
good fortune then--her father would have him go to the bar--against the
commissioner's wishes. You know a young man will do any thing if he is in
love, and is encouraged--I don't know how the thing went on, or off, but
Buckhurst found himself disappointed at last, and was so miserable about
it! ready to break his heart! you would have pitied him! Georgiana was so
sorry for him, that she never could forgive the young lady--though I really
don't imagine, after all, she was to blame. But sisters will feel for their
brothers."

Georgiana, charmed to find this amiable mode of accounting for her dislike
to Caroline, instantly pursued her mother's hint, and frankly declared
that she never could conceal either her likings or dislikings--that Miss
Caroline Percy might have all the merit upon earth, and she did not doubt
but she had; yet she never could forgive her for jilting Buckhurst--no,
never! never! It might be unjust, but she owned that it was a prepossession
she could not conquer.

"Why, indeed, my dear young lady, I hardly know how to blame you," cried
Lady Trant; "for certainly a jilt is not a very amiable character."

"Oh! my dear Lady Trant, don't use such a word--Georgiana!--Why will you be
so warm, so very unguarded, where that darling brother is concerned? You
really--Oh! my dear Lady Trant, this must not go farther--and positively
the word jilt must never be used again; for I'm confident it is quite
inapplicable."

"I'd not swear for that," cried Lady Trant; "for, now I recollect, at Lady
Angelica Headingham's, what was it we heard, my dear Lady Kew, about her
coquetting with that Mr. Barclay, who is now going to be married to Lady
Mary Pembroke, you know?"

"Oh! yes, I did hear something, I recollect--but, at the time, I never
minded, because I did not know, then, who that Miss Caroline Percy was--
true, true, I recollect it now. And all, you know, we heard about her and
Sir James Harcourt--was there not something there? By all accounts, it is
plain she is not the simple country beauty she looks--practised!--
practised! you see."

Miss Georgiana Falconer's only fear was, that Count Altenberg might not
hear Lady Kew, who had lowered her voice to the note of mystery. Mrs.
Falconer, who had accomplished her own judicious purpose, of accounting for
Georgiana's dislike of Miss Caroline Percy, was now afraid that her dear
friends would overdo the business; she made many efforts to stop them,
but once upon the scent of scandal, it was no easy matter to change the
pursuit.

"You seem to have found something that has caught your attention
delightfully, Count Altenberg," said Mrs. Falconer; "how I envy any one who
is completely _in_ a book--what is it?"

"Johnson's preface to Shakspeare."

Miss Georgiana Falconer was vexed, for she recollected that Miss Caroline
Percy had just been speaking of it with admiration.

Mrs. Falconer wondered how it could have happened that she had never read
it.

Lady Kew persevered in her story. "Sir James Harcourt, I know, who is the
most polite creature in the whole world, and who never speaks an ill word
of any body, I assure you, said of Miss Caroline Percy in my hearing--what
I shall not repeat. Only this much I must tell you, Mrs. Falconer--Mrs.
Falconer!--She won't listen because the young lady is a relation of her
own--and we are very rude; but truth is truth, notwithstanding, you know.
Well, well, she may talk of Miss Percy's beauty and abilities--very clever
she is, I don't dispute; but this I may say, that Mrs. Falconer must never
praise her to me for simplicity of character."

"Why, no," said Miss Georgiana; "one is apt to suppose that a person
who has lived all her life in the country must, of course, have great
simplicity. But there is a simplicity of character, and a simplicity of
manner, and they don't always go together. Caroline Percy's manner is
fascinating, because, you know, it is what one does not meet with every day
in town--that was what struck my poor brother--that and her great talents,
which can make her whatever she pleases to be: but I am greatly afraid she
is not quite the _ingenuous_ person she looks."

Count Altenberg changed colour, and was putting down his book suddenly,
when Mrs. Falconer caught it, and stopping him, asked how far he had read.

Whilst he was turning over the leaves, Lady Trant went on, in her
turn--"With all her _practice_, or her _simplicity_, whichever it may
be--far be it from me to decide which--I fancy she has met with her match,
and has been disappointed in her turn."

"Really!" cried Georgiana, eagerly: "How! What! When!--Are you certain?"

"Last summer--Oh! I have it from those who know the gentleman well. Only an
affair of the heart that did not end happily: but I am told she was very
much in love. The family would not hear of it--the mother, especially, was
averse: so the young gentleman ended by marrying--exceedingly well--and the
young lady by wearing the willow, you know, a decent time."

"Oh! why did you never tell me this before?" said Miss Georgiana.

"I protest I never thought of it, till Lady Kew brought it to my
recollection, by talking of Lady Angelica Headingham, and Sir James
Harcourt, and all that."

"But who was the gentleman?"

"That's a secret," replied Lady Trant.

"A secret!--A secret!--What is it? What is it?" cried Lady Frances
Arlington, pressing into the midst of the party; for she was the most
curious person imaginable.

Then heads joined, and Lady Trant whispered, and Lady Frances exclaimed
aloud, "Hungerford?--Colonel Hungerford!"

"Fie! fie! Lady Frances," cried Georgiana--and "Fie! fie! you are a pretty
person to keep a secret," cried Lady Trant: "I vow I'll never trust your
ladyship with a secret again--when you publish it in this way."

"I vow you will," said Lady Frances. "Why, you all know, in your hearts,
you wish to publish it--else why tell it--especially to me? But all this
time I am not thinking in the least about the matter, nor was I when I said
_Hungerford_--I was and am thinking of my own affairs. What did I do with
the letter I received this morning? I had it here--no, I hadn't it--yes, I
had--Anne!--Anne!--Lady Anne! the duchess's letter: I gave it to you; what
did you do with it?"

"La! it is somewhere, I suppose," said Lady Anne, raising her head, and
giving a vague look round the room.

Lady Frances made every one search their work-boxes, writing-boxes, and
reticules; then went from table to table, opening and shutting all the
drawers.

"Frances!--If you would not fly about so! What can it signify?"
expostulated Lady Anne. But in vain; her sister went on, moving every thing
and every body in the room, displacing all the cushions of all the chairs
in her progress, and, at last, approached Lady Anne's sofa, with intent to
invade her repose.

"Ah! Frances!" cried Lady Anne, in a deprecating tone, with a gesture of
supplication and anguish in her eyes, "do let me rest!"

"Never, till I have the letter."

With the energy of anger and despair Lady Anne made an effort to reach the
bell-cord--but it missed--the cord swung--Petcalf ran to catch it, and
stumbled over a stool--English Clay stood still and laughed--French Clay
exclaimed, "_Ah! mon Dieu! Cupidon!_"

Count Altenberg saved Cupid from falling, and rang the bell.

"Sir," said Lady Anne to the footman, "I had a letter--some time this
morning, in my hand."

"Yes, my lady."

"I want it."

"Yes, my lady."

"Pray, sir, tell somebody to tell Pritchard, to tell Flora, to go up stairs
to my dressing-room, sir, to look every where for't; and let it be brought
to my sister, Lady Frances, if you please, sir."

"No, no, sir, don't do any thing about the matter, if you please--I will go
myself," said Lady Frances.

Away the lady ran up stairs, and down again, with the letter in her hand.

"Yes! exactly as I thought," cried she; "my aunt does say, that Mrs.
Hungerford is to be down to-day--I thought so."

"Very likely," said Lady Anne; "I never thought about it."

"But, Anne, you must think about it, for my aunt desires we should go and
see her directly."

"I can't go," said Lady Anne--"I've a cold--your going will do."

"Mrs. Falconer, my dear Mrs. Falconer, will you go with me to-morrow to
Hungerford Castle?" cried Lady Frances, eagerly.

"Impossible! my dear Lady Frances, unfortunately quite impossible. The
Hungerfords and we have no connexion--there was an old family quarrel--"

"Oh! never mind family quarrels and connexions--you can go, and I am
sure it will be taken very well--and you know you only go with me. Oh!
positively you must--now there's my good dear Mrs. Falconer--yes, and order
the carriage this minute for to-morrow early," said Lady Frances, in a
coaxing yet impatient tone.

Mrs. Falconer adhered to its being absolutely impossible.

"Then, Anne, you must go."

No--Anne was impenetrable.

"Then I'll go by myself," cried Lady Frances, pettishly--"I'll take
Pritchard with me, in our own carriage, and I'll speak about it
directly--for go I must and will."

"Now, Frances, what new fancy is this for Mrs. Hungerford? I am sure you
used not to care about her," said Lady Anne.

"And I dare say I should not care about her now," replied Lady Frances,
"but that I am dying to see an old pair of shoes she has."

"An old pair of shoes!" repeated Lady Anne, with a look of unutterable
disdain.

"An old pair of shoes!" cried Mrs. Falconer, laughing.

"Yes, a pair of blue damask shoes as old as Edward the Fourth's time--with
chains from the toe to the knee, you know--or do you know, Count Altenberg?
Miss Percy was describing them--she saw Colonel Hungerford put them on--Oh!
he must put them on for me--I'll make him put them on, chains and all,
to-morrow."

"Colonel Hungerford is on his way to India by this time," said Georgiana
Falconer, drily.

"May I ask," said Count Altenberg, taking advantage of the first pause in
the conversation--"may I ask if I understood rightly, that Mrs. Hungerford,
mother of Colonel Hungerford, lives in this neighbourhood, and is coming
into the country to-morrow?"

"Yes--just so," said Lady Frances.

What concern can it be of his? thought Miss Georgiana Falconer, fixing her
eyes upon the Count with alarmed curiosity.

"I knew Colonel Hungerford abroad," continued the Count, "and have a great
regard for him."

Lady Kew, Lady Trant, and Miss Georgiana Falconer, exchanged looks.

"I am sorry that he is gone to India," said Mrs. Falconer, in a sentimental
tone; "it would have been so pleasant to you to have renewed an
acquaintance with him in England."

Count Altenberg regretted the absence of his friend, the colonel;
but, turning to Lady Frances, he congratulated himself upon having an
opportunity of presenting his letters of introduction, and paying his
respects to Mrs. Hungerford, of whom he had heard much from foreigners
who had visited England, and who had been charmed with her, and with her
daughter, Mrs. Mortimer--his letters of introduction had been addressed to
her town residence, but she was not in London when he was there.

"No, she was at Pembroke," said Lady Kew.

I'm sure I wish she were there still, thought Miss Georgiana.

"But, after all, Lady Frances, is the duchess sure that Mrs. Hungerford is
actually come to the country?--May be, she is still in town."

"I shall have the honour of letting your ladyship know; for, if Lord
Oldborough will permit, I shall certainly go, very soon, to pay my respects
at Hungerford Castle," said Count Altenberg.

The prescient jealousy of Miss Georgiana Falconer boded ill of this visit
to Hungerford Castle. A few days afterwards a note was received from
Count Altenberg, returning many thanks to Mr. and Mrs. Falconer for the
civilities he had received from them, paying all proper compliments to
Zara, announcing his intention of accepting an invitation to stay some time
at Mrs. Hungerford's, and taking a polite leave of the Falconer family.

Here was a death-blow to all Georgiana's hopes! But we shall not stay to
describe her disappointment, or the art of her mother in concealing it; nor
shall we accompany Mrs. Falconer to town, to see how her designs upon the
Clays or Petcalf prospered. We must follow Count Altenberg to Hungerford
Castle.

CHAPTER XXIX.

"Who would prize the tainted posies,
Which on ev'ry breast are worn?
Who could pluck the spotless roses
From their never touched thorn?"

The feeling expressed in these lines will be acknowledged by every man of
sense and delicacy. "No such man ever prized a heart much hackneyed in the
ways of love." It was with exquisite pain that Count Altenberg had heard
all that had been said of Caroline--he did not give credit to half the
insinuations--he despised those who made them: he knew that some of the
ladies spoke from envy, others from the mere love of scandal; but still,
altogether, an impression unfavourable to Caroline, or rather unfavourable
to his passion for Caroline, was left on his mind. The idea that she had
been suspected, the certainty that she had been talked of, that she had
even been named as one who had coquetted with many admirers--the notion
that she had been in love--passionately in love--all this took from the
freshness, the virgin modesty, the dignity, the charm, with which she had
appeared to his imagination, and without which she could not have touched
his heart--a heart not to be easily won.

In his own country, at the court where he resided, in the different parts
of the continent which he had visited, Germany, Poland, Switzerland,
France, he had seen women celebrated for beauty and for wit, many of
the most polished manners, many of the highest accomplishments, some of
exquisite sensibility, a few with genuine simplicity of character, but in
all there had been something which had prevented his wishing to make any
one of them the companion of his life. In some there was a want of good
temper--in others of good sense; there was some false taste for admiration
or for notoriety--some love of pleasure, or some love of sway, inconsistent
with his idea of the perfection of the female character, incompatible with
his plans of life, and with his notions of love and happiness.

In England, where education, institutions, opinion, manners, the habits of
society, and of domestic life, happily combine to give the just proportion
of all that is attractive, useful, ornamental, and amiable to the female
character--in England, Count Altenberg had hopes of finding a woman who, to
the noble simplicity of character that was once the charm of Switzerland,
joined the polish, the elegance, that was once the pride of France; a woman
possessing an enlarged, cultivated, embellished understanding, capable
of comprehending all his views as a politician and a statesman; yet
without any wish for power, or love of political intrigue. Graced with
knowledge and taste for literature and science, capable of being extended
to the highest point of excellence, yet free from all pedantry, or
pretension--with wit, conversational talents, and love of good society,
without that desire of exhibition, that devouring diseased appetite for
admiration, which preys upon the mind insatiably, to its torture--to
its destruction; without that undefineable, untranslateable French love
of _succes de societe_, which substitutes a precarious; factitious,
intoxicated existence in public, for the safe self-approbation, the sober,
the permanent happiness of domestic life. In England Count Altenberg hoped
to find a woman raised by "divine philosophy" [Footnote: Milton.] far
above all illiberal prejudice, but preserving a just and becoming sense of
religion; unobtrusive, mild, and yet firm. Every thing that he had seen of
Caroline had confirmed his first hope, and exalted his future expectation;
but, by what he had just heard, his imagination was checked in full career,
suddenly, and painfully. His heavenly dream was disturbed by earthly
voices--voices of malignant spirits--mysterious--indistinct--yet alarming.
He had not conceived it possible that the breath of blame could approach
such a character as Caroline's--he was struck with surprise, and shocked,
on hearing her name profaned by common scandal, and spoken of as the victim
of a disappointed passion, the scorn of one of the most distinguished
families in England. Such were the first painful thoughts and feelings
of Count Altenberg. At the time he heard the whispers which gave rise to
them, he had been actually penning a letter to his father, declaring his
attachment--he now resolved not to write. But he determined to satisfy
himself as to the truth or falsehood of these reports. He was not a man to
give ear lightly to calumny--he detested its baseness; he would not suffer
himself for a moment to brood over suspicion, nor yet would he allow
himself for present ease and pleasure to gloss over, without examination,
that which might afterwards recur to his mind, and might create future
unjust or unhappy jealousy. Either the object of his hopes was worthy of
him, or not--if not worthy, better tear her from his heart for ever. This
determined him to go immediately to Mrs. Hungerford's. Count Altenberg
trusted to his own address and penetration for discovering all he wished
to know, without betraying any peculiar interest in the subject.

The first sight of Mrs. Hungerford, the gracious dignity of her appearance
and manners, the first five minutes' conversation he had with her, decided
him in the opinion, that common report had done her justice; and raised
in his mind extreme anxiety to know her opinion of Caroline. But, though
he began the history of Zara, and of the play at Falconer-court, for the
express purpose of introducing the Percys, in speaking of the company who
had been present, yet, conscious of some unusual emotion when he was going
to pronounce that name, and fancying some meaning in Mrs. Hungerford's
great attention as he spoke, he mentioned almost every other guest, even
the most insignificant, without speaking of Caroline, or of any of her
family. He went back to his friend Colonel Hungerford. Mrs. Hungerford
opened a letter-case, and took from it the last letter she had received
from her son since he left England, containing some interesting
particulars.--Towards the conclusion of the letter, the writing changed
to a small feminine hand, and all India vanished from the view of Count
Altenberg, for, as he turned the page, he saw the name of Caroline Percy:
"I suppose I ought to stop here," said he, offering the letter to Mrs.
Hungerford. "No," she replied, the whole letter was at his service--they
were only a few lines from her daughter Lady Elizabeth.

These few lines mentioned Caroline Percy among the dear and intimate
friends whom she regretted most in Europe, and to whom she sent a message
expressive of the warmest affection and esteem. A glow of joy instantly
diffused itself over his whole frame. As far as related to Colonel
Hungerford, he was sure that all he had heard was false. There was little
probability that his wife should, if those circumstances were true, he
Caroline's most intimate friend. Before these thoughts had well arranged
themselves in his head, a pleasing, sprightly young lady came into the
room, who he at first thought was Mrs. Hungerford's daughter; but she was
too young to answer exactly the description of Mrs. Mortimer.

"Lady Mary Pembroke, my niece," said Mrs. Hungerford.

Her ladyship was followed by Mr. Barclay--Count Altenberg seemed in a fair
way to have all his doubts satisfied; but, in the hurry of his mind, he had
almost forgotten to ask for Mrs. Mortimer.

"You will not see her to-day," said Mrs. Hungerford; "she is gone to see
some friends, who live at distance too great for a morning visit. But I
hope," continued Mrs. Hungerford, turning to Lady Mary, "that my daughter
will make me amends for losing a day of her company, by bringing me our
dear Caroline to-morrow."

"Is there a chance of Caroline's coming to us?" cried Lady Mary with
affectionate eagerness.

"Is there any hope of our seeing Miss Caroline Percy?" said Mr. Barclay,
with an air of respectful regard, very different from what must have been
the feelings of a man who had trifled with a woman, or who had thought that
she had trifled with him.

Count Altenberg rejoiced that he had come without a moment's delay to
Hungerford Castle.

"You are really a good creature, my dear," continued Mrs. Hungerford to
Lady Mary, "for being so anxious to have Caroline here--many a niece might
be jealous of my affection, for certainly I love her as well as if she
were my own child. To-morrow, sir," said she, turning to Count Altenberg,
"I hope I shall have the pleasure to introduce you to this young friend
of ours: I shall feel proud to show her to a foreigner, whom I wish to
prepossess in favour of my countrywomen."