by Walter Scott
CHAPTER XXIX
All school day's friendship childhood innocence' We Hermia like two artificial gods Have with our needles created both one flower, Both on one sampler sitting on one cushion, Both warbling of one song both in one key As if our hands our sides, voices and minds Had been incorporate
A Midsummer Night's Dream
JULIA MANNERING TO MATILDA MARCHMONT
'How can you upbraid me, my dearest Matilda, with abatement infriendship or fluctuation in affection? Is it possible for me to forgetthat you are the chosen of my heart, in whose faithful bosom I havedeposited every feeling which your poor Julia dares to acknowledge toherself? And you do me equal injustice in upbraiding me with exchangingyour friendship for that of Lucy Bertram. I assure you she has not thematerials I must seek for in a bosom confidante. She is a charminggirl, to be sure, and I like her very much, and I confess our forenoonand evening engagements have left me less time for the exercise of mypen than our proposed regularity of correspondence demands. But she istotally devoid of elegant accomplishments, excepting the knowledge ofFrench and Italian, which she acquired from the most grotesque monsteryou ever beheld, whom my father has engaged as a kind of librarian, andwhom he patronises, I believe, to show his defiance of the world'sopinion. Colonel Mannering seems to have formed a determination thatnothing shall be considered as ridiculous so long as it appertains toor is connected with him. I remember in India he had picked upsomewhere a little mongrel cur, with bandy legs, a long back, and hugeflapping ears. Of this uncouth creature he chose to make a favourite,in despite of all taste and opinion; and I remember one instance whichhe alleged, of what he called Brown's petulance, was, that he hadcriticised severely the crooked legs and drooping ears of Bingo. On myword, Matilda, I believe he nurses his high opinion of this mostawkward of all pedants upon a similar principle. He seats the creatureat table, where he pronounces a grace that sounds like the scream ofthe man in the square that used to cry mackerel, flings his meat downhis throat by shovelfuls, like a dustman loading his cart, andapparently without the most distant perception of what he isswallowing, then bleats forth another unnatural set of tones by way ofreturning thanks, stalks out of the room, and immerses himself among aparcel of huge worm-eaten folios that are as uncouth as himself! Icould endure the creature well enough had I anybody to laugh at himalong with me; but Lucy Bertram, if I but verge on the border of a jestaffecting this same Mr. Sampson (such is the horrid man's horrid name),looks so piteous that it deprives me of all spirit to proceed, and myfather knits his brow, flashes fire from his eye, bites his lip, andsays something that is extremely rude and uncomfortable to my feelings.
'It was not of this creature, however, that I meant to speak to you,only that, being a good scholar in the modern as well as the ancientlanguages, he has contrived to make Lucy Bertram mistress of theformer, and she has only, I believe, to thank her own good sense, orobstinacy, that the Greek, Latin (and Hebrew, for aught I know), werenot added to her acquisitions. And thus she really has a great fund ofinformation, and I assure you I am daily surprised at the power whichshe seems to possess of amusing herself by recalling and arranging thesubjects of her former reading. We read together every morning, and Ibegin to like Italian much better than when we were teased by thatconceited animal Cicipici. This is the way to spell his name, and notChichipichi; you see I grow a connoisseur.
'But perhaps I like Miss Bertram more for the accomplishments she wantsthan for the knowledge she possesses. She knows nothing of musicwhatever, and no more of dancing than is here common to the meanestpeasants, who, by the way, dance with great zeal and spirit. So that Iam instructor in my turn, and she takes with great gratitude lessonsfrom me upon the harpsichord; and I have even taught her some of LaPique's steps, and you know he thought me a promising scholar.
'In the evening papa often reads, and I assure you he is the bestreader of poetry you ever heard; not like that actor who made a kind ofjumble between reading and acting,--staring, and bending his brow, andtwisting his face, and gesticulating as if he were on the stage anddressed out in all his costume. My father's manner is quite different;it is the reading of a gentleman, who produces effect by feeling,taste, and inflection of voice, not by action or mummery. Lucy Bertramrides remarkably well, and I can now accompany her on horseback, havingbecome emboldened by example. We walk also a good deal in spite of thecold. So, upon the whole, I have not quite so much time for writing asI used to have.
'Besides, my love, I must really use the apology of all stupidcorrespondents, that I have nothing to say. My hopes, my fears, myanxieties about Brown are of a less interesting cast since I know thathe is at liberty and in health. Besides, I must own I think that bythis time the gentleman might have given me some intimation what he wasdoing. Our intercourse may be an imprudent one, but it is not verycomplimentary to me that Mr. Vanbeest Brown should be the first todiscover that such is the case, and to break off in consequence. I canpromise him that we might not differ much in opinion should that happento be his, for I have sometimes thought I have behaved extremelyfoolishly in that matter. Yet I have so good an opinion of poor Brown,that I cannot but think there is something extraordinary in his silence.
'To return to Lucy Bertram. No, my dearest Matilda, she can never,never rival you in my regard, so that all your affectionate jealousy onthat account is without foundation. She is, to be sure, a very pretty,a very sensible, a very affectionate girl, and I think there are fewpersons to whose consolatory friendship I could have recourse morefreely in what are called the real evils of life. But then these soseldom come in one's way, and one wants a friend who will sympathisewith distresses of sentiment as well as with actual misfortune. Heavenknows, and you know, my dearest Matilda, that these diseases of theheart require the balm of sympathy and affection as much as the evilsof a more obvious and determinate character. Now Lucy Bertram hasnothing of this kindly sympathy, nothing at all, my dearest Matilda.Were I sick of a fever, she would sit up night after night to nurse mewith the most unrepining patience; but with the fever of the heart,which my Matilda has soothed so often, she has no more sympathy thanher old tutor. And yet what provokes me is, that the demure monkeyactually has a lover of her own, and that their mutual affection (formutual I take it to be) has a great deal of complicated and romanticinterest. She was once, you must know, a great heiress, but was ruinedby the prodigality of her father and the villainy of a horrid man inwhom he confided. And one of the handsomest young gentlemen in thecountry is attached to her; but, as he is heir to a great estate, shediscourages his addresses on account of the disproportion of theirfortune.
'But with all this moderation, and self-denial, and modesty, and soforth, Lucy is a sly girl. I am sure she loves young Hazlewood, and Iam sure he has some guess of that, and would probably bring her toacknowledge it too if my father or she would allow him an opportunity.But you must know the Colonel is always himself in the way to pay MissBertram those attentions which afford the best indirect opportunitiesfor a young gentleman in Hazlewood's situation. I would have my goodpapa take care that he does not himself pay the usual penalty ofmeddling folks. I assure you, if I were Hazlewood I should look on hiscompliments, his bowings, his cloakings, his shawlings, and hishandings with some little suspicion; and truly I think Hazlewood doesso too at some odd times. Then imagine what a silly figure your poorJulia makes on such occasions! Here is my father making the agreeableto my friend; there is young Hazlewood watching every word of her lips,and every motion of her eye; and I have not the poor satisfaction ofinteresting a human being, not even the exotic monster of a parson, foreven he sits with his mouth open, and his huge round goggling eyesfixed like those of a statue, admiring Mess Baartram!
'All this makes me sometimes a little nervous, and sometimes a littlemischievous. I was so provoked at my father and the lovers the otherday for turning me completely out of their thoughts and society, that Ibegan an attack upon Hazlewood, from which it was impossible for him,in common
civility, to escape. He insensibly became warm in hisdefence,--I assure you, Matilda, he is a very clever as well as a veryhandsome young man, and I don't think I ever remember having seen himto the same advantage,--when, behold, in the midst of our livelyconversation, a very soft sigh from Miss Lucy reached my notungratified ears. I was greatly too generous to prosecute my victoryany farther, even if I had not been afraid of papa. Luckily for me, hehad at that moment got into a long description of the peculiar notionsand manners of a certain tribe of Indians who live far up the country,and was illustrating them by making drawings on Miss Bertram'swork-patterns, three of which he utterly damaged by introducing amongthe intricacies of the pattern his specimens of Oriental costume. But Ibelieve she thought as little of her own gown at the moment as of theIndian turbands and cummerbands. However, it was quite as well for methat he did not see all the merit of my little manoeuvre, for he is assharp-sighted as a hawk, and a sworn enemy to the slightest shade ofcoquetry.
'Well, Matilda, Hazlewood heard this same halfaudible sigh, andinstantly repented his temporary attentions to such an unworthy objectas your Julia, and, with a very comical expression of consciousness,drew near to Lucy's work-table. He made some trifling observation, andher reply was one in which nothing but an ear as acute as that of alover, or a curious observer like myself, could have distinguishedanything more cold and dry than usual. But it conveyed reproof to theself-accusing hero, and he stood abashed accordingly. You will admitthat I was called upon in generosity to act as mediator. So I mingledin the conversation, in the quiet tone of an unobserving anduninterested third party, led them into their former habits of easychat, and, after having served awhile as the channel of communicationthrough which they chose to address each other, set them down to apensive game at chess, and very dutifully went to tease papa, who wasstill busied with his drawings. The chess-players, you must observe,were placed near the chimney, beside a little work-table, which heldthe board and men, the Colonel at some distance, with lights upon alibrary table; for it is a large old-fashioned room, with severalrecesses, and hung with grim tapestry, representing what it might havepuzzled the artist himself to explain.
'"Is chess a very interesting game, papa?"
'"I am told so," without honouring me with much of his notice.
'"I should think so, from the attention Mr. Hazlewood and Lucy arebestowing on it."
'He raised his head "hastily and held his pencil suspended for aninstant. Apparently he saw nothing that excited his suspicions, for hewas resuming the folds of a Mahratta's turban in tranquillity when Iinterrupted him with--"How old is Miss Bertram, sir?"
"'How should I know, Miss? About your own age, I suppose."
'"Older, I should think, sir. You are always telling me how much moredecorously she goes through all the honours of the tea-table. Lord,papa, what if you should give her a right to preside once and for ever!"
'"Julia, my dear," returned papa, "you are either a fool outright oryou are more disposed to make mischief than I have yet believed you."
'"Oh, my dear sir! put your best construction upon it; I would not bethought a fool for all the world."
'"Then why do you talk like one?" said my father.
'"Lord, sir, I am sure there is nothing so foolish in what I said justnow. Everybody knows you are a very handsome man" (a smile was justvisible), "that is, for your time of life" (the dawn was overcast),"which is far from being advanced, and I am sure I don't know why youshould not please yourself, if you have a mind. I am sensible I am buta thoughtless girl, and if a graver companion could render you morehappy--"
'There was a mixture of displeasure and grave affection in the mannerin which my father took my hand, that was a severe reproof to me fortrifling with his feelings. "Julia," he said, "I bear with much of yourpetulance because I think I have in some degree deserved it, byneglecting to superintend your education sufficiently closely. Yet Iwould not have you give it the rein upon a subject so delicate. If youdo not respect the feelings of your surviving parent towards the memoryof her whom you have lost, attend at least to the sacred claims ofmisfortune; and observe, that the slightest hint of such a jestreaching Miss Bertram's ears would at once induce her to renounce herpresent asylum, and go forth, without a protector, into a world she hasalready felt so unfriendly."
'What could I say to this, Matilda? I only cried heartily, beggedpardon, and promised to be a good girl in future. And so here am Ineutralised again, for I cannot, in honour or common good-nature, teasepoor Lucy by interfering with Hazlewood, although she has so littleconfidence in me; and neither can I, after this grave appeal, ventureagain upon such delicate ground with papa. So I burn little rolls ofpaper, and sketch Turks' heads upon visiting cards with the blackenedend--I assure you I succeeded in making a superb Hyder-Ally lastnight--and I jingle on my unfortunate harpsichord, and begin at the endof a grave book and read it backward. After all, I begin to be verymuch vexed about Brown's silence. Had he been obliged to leave thecountry, I am sure he would at least have written to me. Is it possiblethat my father can have intercepted his letters? But no, that iscontrary to all his principles; I don't think he would open a letteraddressed to me to-night, to prevent my jumping out of windowto-morrow. What an expression I have suffered to escape my pen! Ishould be ashamed of it, even to you, Matilda, and used in jest. But Ineed not take much merit for acting as I ought to do. This same Mr.Vanbeest Brown is by no means so very ardent a lover as to hurry theobject of his attachment into such inconsiderate steps. He gives onefull time to reflect, that must be admitted. However, I will not blamehim unheard, nor permit myself to doubt the manly firmness of acharacter which I have so often extolled to you. Were he capable ofdoubt, of fear, of the shadow of change, I should have little to regret.
'And why, you will say, when I expect such steady and unalterableconstancy from a lover, why should I be anxious about what Hazlewooddoes, or to whom he offers his attentions? I ask myself the question ahundred times a day, and it only receives the very silly answer thatone does not like to be neglected, though one would not encourage aserious infidelity.
'I write all these trifles because you say that they amuse you, and yetI wonder how they should. I remember, in our stolen voyages to theworld of fiction, you always admired the grand and the romantic,--talesof knights, dwarfs, giants, and distressed damsels, oothsayers,visions, beckoning ghosts, and bloody hands; whereas I was partial tothe involved intrigues of private life, or at farthest to so much onlyof the supernatural as is conferred by the agency of an Eastern genieor a beneficent fairy. YOU would have loved to shape your course oflife over the broad ocean, with its dead calms and howling tempests,its tornadoes, and its billows mountain-high; whereas I should like totrim my little pinnace to a brisk breeze in some inland lake ortranquil bay, where there was just difficulty of navigation sufficientto give interest and to require skill without any sensible degree ofdanger. So that, upon the whole, Matilda, I think you should have hadmy father, with his pride of arms and of ancestry, his chivalrous pointof honour, his high talents, and his abstruse and mystic studies. Youshould have had Lucy Bertram too for your friend, whose fathers, withnames which alike defy memory and orthography, ruled over this romanticcountry, and whose birth took place, as I have been indistinctlyinformed, under circumstances of deep and peculiar interest. You shouldhave had, too, our Scottish residence, surrounded by mountains, and ourlonely walks to haunted ruins. And I should have had, in exchange, thelawns and shrubs, and green-houses and conservatories, of Pine Park,with your good, quiet, indulgent aunt, her chapel in the morning, hernap after dinner, her hand at whist in the evening, not forgetting herfat coach-horses and fatter coachman. Take notice, however, that Brownis not included in this proposed barter of mine; his good-humour,lively conversation, and open gallantry suit my plan of life as well ashis athletic form, handsome features, and high spirit would accord witha character of chivalry. So, as we cannot change altogether out andout, I think we must e'en abide as we are.'