Complete Works of Jane Austen

by Jane Austen

  ‘Have you seen him then, this morning?’ said Kitty.

  ‘Oh yes! And I was so sleepy that I could not open my eyes. And so he said, “Camilla, goodbye to you for I am going away — . I have not time to take leave of any body else, and I dare not trust myself to see Kitty, for then you know I should never get away—” ‘

  ‘Nonsense,’ said Kitty; ‘he did not say that, or he was in joke if he did.’

  ‘Oh! no I assure you he was as much in earnest as he ever was in his life; he was too much out of spirits to joke then. And he desired me when we all met at breakfast to give his compliments to your aunt, and his love to you, for you was a nice girl he said and he only wished it were in his power to be more with you. You were just the girl to suit him, because you were so lively and good-natured, and he wished with all his heart that you might not be married before he came back, for there was nothing he liked better than being here. Oh! You have no idea what fine things he said about you, till at last I fell asleep and he went away. But he certainly is in love with you — I am sure he is — I have thought so a great while I assure you.’

  ‘How can you be so ridiculous?’ said Kitty smiling with pleasure; ‘I do not believe him to be so easily affected. But he did desire his love to me then? And wished I might not be married before his return? And said I was a nice girl, did he?’

  ‘Oh! dear, yes, and I assure you it is the greatest praise in his opinion, that he can bestow on any body; I can hardly ever persuade him to call me one, tho’ I beg him sometimes for an hour together.’

  ‘And do you really think that he was sorry to go.’

  ‘Oh! you can have no idea how wretched it made him. He would not have gone this month, if my father had not insisted on it; Edward told me so himself yesterday. He said that he wished with all his heart he had never promised to go abroad, for that he repented it more and more every day; that it interfered with all his other schemes, and that since Papa had spoke to him about it, he was more unwilling to leave Chetwynde than ever.’

  ‘Did he really say all this? And why would your father insist upon his going?’ ‘His leaving England interfered with all his other plans, and his conversation with Mr Stanley had made him still more averse to it.’ ‘What can this mean!’ ‘Why that he is excessively in love with you to be sure; what other plans can he have? And I suppose my father said that if he had not been going abroad, he should have wished him to marry you immediately. — But I must go and see your aunt’s plants — There is one of them that I quite dote on — and two or three more besides—’.

  ‘Can Camilla’s explanation be true?’ said Catharine to herself, when her friend had left the room. ‘And after all my doubts and uncertainties, can Stanley really be averse to leaving England for my sake only? “His plans interrupted.” And what indeed can his plans be, but towards marriage. Yet so soon to be in love with me! — But it is the effect perhaps only of the warmth of heart which to me is the highest recommendation in any one. A heart disposed to love — And such under the appearance of so much gaiety and inattention, is Stanley’s Oh! how much does it endear him to me! But he is gone — gone perhaps for years — obliged to tear himself from what he most loves, his happiness is sacrificed to the vanity of his father! In what anguish he must have left the house! Unable to see me, or to bid me adieu, while I, senseless wretch, was daring to sleep. This, then explained his leaving us at such a time of day — He could not trust himself to see me — . Charming young man! How much must you have suffered! I knew that it was impossible for one so elegant, and so well bred, to leave any family in such a manner, but for a motive like this unanswerable.’ Satisfied, beyond the power of change, of this, she went in high spirits to her aunt’s apartment, without giving a moment’s recollection on the vanity of young women, or the unaccountable conduct of young men.

  Kitty continued in this state of satisfaction during the remainder of the Stanleys’ visit — who took their leave with many pressing invitations to visit them in London, when as Camilla said, she might have an opportunity of becoming acquainted with that sweet girl Augusta Halifax — Or rather (thought Kitty,) of seeing my dear Mary Wynne again — . Mrs Percival in answer to Mrs Stanley’s invitation replied — That she looked upon London as the hot house of vice where virtue had long been banished from society and wickedness of every description was daily gaining ground — that Kitty was of herself sufficiently inclined to give way to, and indulge in vicious inclinations — and therefore was the last girl in the world to be trusted in London, as she would be totally unable to withstand temptation — .

  After the departure of the Stanleys Kitty returned to her usual occupations, but alas! they had lost their power of pleasing. Her bower alone retained its interest in her feelings, and perhaps that was owing to the particular remembrance it brought to her mind of Edward Stanley.

  The summer passed away unmarked by any incident worth narrating, or any pleasure to Catharine save one, which arose from the receipt of a letter from her friend Cecilia now Mrs Lascelles, announcing the speedy return of herself and husband to England.

  A correspondence productive indeed of little pleasure to either party had been established between Camilla and Catharine. The latter had now lost the only satisfaction she had ever received from the letters of Miss Stanley, as that young lady having informed her friend of the departure of her brother to Lyons now never mentioned his name — her letters seldom contained any intelligence except a description of some new article of dress, an enumeration of various engagements, a panegyric on Augusta Halifax and perhaps a little abuse of the unfortunate Sir Peter — .

  The Grove, for so was the mansion of Mrs Percival at Chetwynde denominated, was situated within five miles from Exeter, but though that lady possessed a carriage and horses of her own, it was seldom that Catharine could prevail on her to visit that town for the purpose of shopping, on account of the many officers perpetually quartered there and who infested the principal streets — . A company of strolling players on their way from some neighbouring races having opened a temporary theatre there, Mrs Percival was prevailed on by her niece to indulge her by attending the performance once during their stay — Mrs Percival insisted on paying Miss Dudley the compliment of inviting her to join the party, when a new difficulty arose, from the necessity of having some gentleman to attend them — .

  EVELYN

  To Miss Mary Lloyd,

  The following Novel is by permission Dedicated,

  by her Obedt: humble Servt:

  The Author

  In a retired part of the County of Sussex there is a village (for what I know to the Contrary) called Evelyn, perhaps one of the most beautiful Spots in the south of England. A Gentleman passing through it on horseback about twenty years ago, was so entirely of my opinion in this respect, that he put up at the little Alehouse in it and enquired with great earnestness whether there were any house to be lett in the parish. The Landlady, who as well as every one else in Evelyn was remarkably amiable, shook her head at this question, but seemed unwilling to give him any answer. He could not bear this uncertainty — yet knew not to obtain the information he desired. To repeat a question which had already appear’d to make the good woman uneasy was impossible — . He turned from her in visible agitation. ‘What a situation am I in!’ said he to himself as he walked to the window and threw up the sash. He found himself revived by the Air, which he felt to a much greater degree when he had opened the window than he had done before. Yet it was but for a moment — . The agonizing pain of Doubt and Suspence again weighed down his Spirits. The good woman who had watched in eager silence every turn of his Countenance with that benevolence which characterizes the inhabitants of Evelyn, intreated him to tell her the cause of his uneasiness. ‘Is there anything, Sir, in my power to do that may releive your Greifs — Tell me in what manner I can sooth them, and beleive me that the freindly balm of Comfort and Assistance shall not be wanting; for indeed, Sir, I have a simpathetic Soul.’

  ‘Amiable Woma
n’ (said Mr Gower, affected almost to tears by this generous offer) ‘This Greatness of mind in one to whom I am almost a Stranger, serves but to make me the more warmly wish for a house in this sweet village — . What would I not give to be your Neighbour, to be blessed with your Acquaintance, and with the farther knowledge of your virtues! Oh! with what pleasure would I form myself by such an example! Tell me then, best of Women, is there no possibility? — I cannot speak — You know my Meaning —— .’

  ‘Alas! Sir,’ replied Mrs Willis, ‘there is none. Every house in this village, from the sweetness of the Situation, and the purity of the Air, in which neither Misery, Ill health, or Vice are ever wafted, is inhabited. And yet,’ (after a short pause) ‘there is a Family, who tho’ warmly attached to the spot, yet from a peculiar Generosity of Disposition would perhaps be willing to oblige you with their house. He eagerly caught at this idea, and having gained a direction to the place, he set off immediately on his walk to it. As he approached the House, he was delighted with its situation. It was in the exact centre of a small circular paddock, which was enclosed by a regular paling, and bordered with a plantation of Lombardy poplars, and Spruce firs alternatively placed in three rows. A gravel walk ran through this beautiful Shrubbery, and as the remainder of the paddock was unincumbered with any other Timber, the surface of it perfectly even and smooth, and grazed by four white Cows which were disposed at equal distances from each other, the whole appearance of the place as Mr Gower entered the Paddock was uncommonly striking. A beautifully-rounded, gravel road without any turn or interruption led immediately to the house. Mr Gower rang — the Door was soon opened. ‘Are Mr and Mrs Webb at home?’ ‘My Good Sir, they are’ — replied the Servant; And leading the way, conducted Mr Gower upstairs into a very elegant Dressing room, where a Lady rising from her seat, welcomed him with all the Generosity which Mrs Willis had attributed to the Family.

  ‘Welcome best of Men — Welcome to this House, and to everything it contains. William, tell your Master of the happiness I enjoy — invite him to partake of it — . Bring up some Chocolate immediately; Spread a Cloth in the dining Parlour, and carry in the venison pasty — . In the mean time let the Gentleman have some sandwiches, and bring in a Basket of Fruit — Send up some Ices and a bason of Soup, and do not forget some Jellies and Cakes.’ Then turning to Mr Gower, and taking out her purse, ‘Accept this, my good Sir,. Beleive me you are welcome to everything that is in my power to bestow. — I wish my purse were weightier, but Mr Webb must make up my deficiences — . I know he has cash in the house to the amount of an hundred pounds, which he shall bring you immediately.’ Mr Gower felt overpowered by her generosity as he put the purse in his pocket, and from the excess of his Gratitude, could scarcely express himself intelligibly when he accepted her offer of the hundred pounds. Mr Webb soon entered the room, and repeated every protestation of Freindship and Cordiality which his Lady had already made. The Chocolate, the Sandwiches, the Jellies, the Cakes, the Ice, and the Soup soon made their appearance, and Mr Gower having tasted something of all, and pocketed the rest, was conducted into the dining parlour, where he eat a most excellent Dinner and partook of the most exquisite Wines, while Mr and Mrs Webb stood by him still pressing him to eat and drink a little more. ‘And now my good Sir,’ said Mr Webb, when Mr Gower’s repast was concluded, ‘what else can we do to contribute to your happiness and express the Affection we bear you. Tell us what you wish more to receive, and depend upon our gratitude for the communication of your wishes.’ ‘Give me then your house and Grounds; I ask for nothing else.’ ‘It is yours,’ exclaimed both at once; ‘from this moment it is yours.’ The Agreement concluded on and the present accepted by Mr Gower, Mr Webb rang to have the Carriage ordered, telling William at the same time to call the Young Ladies.

  ‘Best of Men,’ said Mrs Webb, ‘we will not long intrude upon your Time.’

  ‘Make no Apologies, dear Madam,’ replied Mr Gower, ‘You are welcome to stay this half hour if you like it.’

  They both burst forth into raptures of Admiration at his politeness, which they agreed served only to make their Conduct appear more inexcusable in trespassing on his time.

  The Young Ladies soon entered the room. The eldest of them was about seventeen, the other, several years younger. Mr Gower had no sooner fixed his Eyes on Miss Webb than he felt that something more was necessary to his happiness than the house he had just received — Mrs Webb introduced him to her daughter. ‘Our dear freind Mr Gower, my Love — He has been so good as to accept of this house, small as it is, and to promise to keep it for ever.’ ‘Give me leave to assure you, Sir,’ said Miss Webb, ‘that I am highly sensible ofyour kindness in this respect, which from the shortness of my Father’s and Mother’s acquaintance with you, is more than usually flattering.’

  Mr Gower bowed—’You are too obliging, Ma’am — I assure you that I like the house extremely — and if they would complete their generosity by giving me their eldest daughter in marriage with a handsome portion, I should have nothing more to wish for.’ This compliment brought a blush into the cheeks of the lovely Miss Webb, who seemed however to refer herself to her father and Mother. They looked delighted at each other — At length Mrs Webb breaking silence, said—’We bend under a weight of obligations to you which we can never repay. Take our girl, take our Maria, and on her must the difficult task fall, of endeavouring to make some return to so much Benefiscence.’ Mr Webb added, ‘Her fortune is but ten thousand pounds, which is almost too small a sum to be offered.’ This objection however being instantly removed by the generosity of Mr Gower, who declared himself satisfied with the sum mentioned, Mr and Mrs Webb, with their youngest daughter took their leave, and on the next day, the nuptials of their eldest with Mr Gower were celebrated. — This amiable Man now found himself perfectly happy; united to a very lovely and deserving young woman, with an handsome fortune, an elegant house, settled in the village of Evelyn, and by that means enabled to cultivate his acquaintance with Mrs Willis, could he have a wish ungratified? — For some months he found that he could not, till one day as he was walking in the Shrubbery with Maria leaning on his arm, they observed a rose full-blown lying on the gravel; it had fallen from a rose tree which with three others had been planted by Mr Webb to give a pleasing variety to the walk. These four Rose trees served also to mark the quarters of the Shrubbery, by which means the Traveller might always know how far in his progress round the Paddock he was got — . Maria stooped to pick up the beautiful flower, and with all her Family Generosity presented it to her Husband. ‘My dear Frederic,’ said she, ‘pray take this charming rose.’ ‘Rose!’ exclaimed Mr Gower — . ‘Oh! Maria, of what does not that remind me! Alas, my poor Sister, how have I neglected you!’ The truth was that Mr Gower was the only son of a very large Family, of which Miss Rose Gower was the thirteenth daughter. This Young Lady whose merits deserved a better fate than she met with, was the darling of her relations — From the clearness of her skin and the Brilliancy of her Eyes, she was fully entitled to all their partial affection. Another circumstance contributed to the general Love they bore her, and that was one of the finest heads of hair in the world. A few Months before her Brother’s Marriage, her heart had been engaged by the attentions and charms of a young Man whose high rank and expectations seemed to foretell objections from his Family to a match which would be highly desirable to theirs. Proposals were made on the young Man’s part, and proper objections on his Father’s — He was desired to return from Carlisle where he was with his beloved Rose, to the family seat in Sussex. He was obliged to comply, and the angry father then finding from his Conversation how determined he was to marry no other woman, sent him for a fortnight to the Isle of Wight under the care of the Family Chaplin, with the hope of overcoming his Constancy by Time and Absence in a foreign Country. They accordingly prepared to bid a long adieu to England — The young Nobleman was not allowed to see his Rosa. They set sail — A storm arose which baffled the arts of the Seamen. The Vessel was wre
cked on the coast of Calshot and every Soul on board perished. This sad Event soon reached Carlisle, and the beautiful Rose was affected by it, beyond the power of Expression. It was to soften her afliction by obtaining a picture ofher unfortunate Lover that her brother undertook a Journey into Sussex, where he hoped that his petition would not be rejected, by the severe yet afflicted Father. When he reached Evelyn he was not many miles from —— — Castle, but the pleasing events which befell him in that place had for a while made him totally forget the object of his Journey and his unhappy Sister. The little incident of the rose however brought everything concerning her to his recollection again, and he bitterly repented his neglect. He returned to the house immediately and agitated by Greif, Apprehension and Shame wrote the following Letter to Rosa.

  July 14th — . Evelyn

  My dearest Sister,