CHAPTER LXX. In which Cupid plays a Considerable Part
We must now, however, and before we proceed with the history of MissLydia and her doings, perform the duty of explaining that sentencein Mr. Warrington's letter to his brother which refers to Lady MariaEsmond, and which, to some simple readers, may be still mysterious.For how, indeed, could well-regulated persons divine such a secret?How could innocent and respectable young people suppose that a woman ofnoble birth, of ancient family, of mature experience,--a woman whom wehave seen exceedingly in love only a score of months ago,--should sofar forget herself as (oh, my very finger-tips blush as I write thesentence!)--as not only to fall in love with a person of low origin, andvery many years her junior, but actually to marry him in the face ofthe world? That is, not exactly in the face, but behind the back of theworld, so to speak; for Parson Sampson privily tied the indissolubleknot for the pair at his chapel in Mayfair.
Now stop before you condemn her utterly. Because Lady Maria had had, andovercome, a foolish partiality for her young cousin, was that any reasonwhy she should never fall in love with anybody else? Are men to havethe sole privilege of change, and are women to be rebuked for availingthemselves now and again of their little chance of consolation? Noinvectives can be more rude, gross, and unphilosophical than, forinstance, Hamlet's to his mother about her second marriage. The truth,very likely, is, that that tender, parasitic creature wanted a somethingto cling to, and, Hamlet senior out of the way, twined herself roundClaudius. Nay, we have known females so bent on attaching themselves,that they can twine round two gentlemen at once. Why, forsooth, shallthere not be marriage-tables after funeral baked-meats? If you saidgrace for your feast yesterday, is that any reason why you shall not behungry to-day? Your natural fine appetite and relish for this evening'sfeast, shows that to-morrow evening at eight o'clock you will mostprobably be in want of your dinner. I, for my part, when Flirtilla orJiltissa were partial to me (the kind reader will please to fancy thatI am alluding here to persons of the most ravishing beauty and loftyrank), always used to bear in mind that a time would come when theywould be fond of somebody else. We are served a la Russe, and gobbled upa dish at a time, like the folks in Polyphemus's cave. 'Tis hodie mihi,cras tibi: there are some Anthropophagi who devour dozens of us, theold, the young, the tender, the tough, the plump, the lean, the ugly,the beautiful: there's no escape, and one after another, as our fate is,we disappear down their omnivorous maws. Look at Lady Ogresham! We allremember, last year, how she served poor Tom Kydd: seized upon him,devoured him, picked his bones, and flung them away. Now it is NedSuckling she has got into her den. He lies under her great eyes,quivering and fascinated. Look at the poor little trepid creature,panting and helpless under the great eyes! She trails towards him nearerand nearer; he draws to her, closer and closer. Presently there willbe one or two feeble squeaks for pity, and--hobblegobble--he willdisappear! Ah me! it is pity, too. I knew, for instance, that MariaEsmond had lost her heart ever so many times before Harry Warringtonfound it; but I like to fancy that he was going to keep it; that,bewailing mischance and times out of joint, she would yet have preservedher love, and fondled it in decorous celibacy. If, in some paroxysm ofsenile folly, I should fall in love to-morrow, I shall still try andthink I have acquired the fee-simple of my charmer's heart;--not thatI am only a tenant, on a short lease, of an old battered furnishedapartment, where the dingy old wine-glasses have been clouded by scoresof pairs of lips, and the tumbled old sofas are muddy with the lastlodger's boots. Dear, dear nymph! Being beloved and beautiful! Suppose Ihad a little passing passion for Glycera (and her complexion reallywas as pure as splendent Parian marble); suppose you had a fancy forTelephus, and his low collars and absurd neck;--those follies are allover now, aren't they? We love each other for good now, don't we? Yes,for ever; and Glycera may go to Bath, and Telephus take his cervicemroseam to Jack Ketch, n'est-ce pas?
No. We never think of changing, my dear. However winds blow, or timeflies, or spoons stir, our potage, which is now so piping hot, willnever get cold. Passing fancies we may have allowed ourselves in formerdays; and really your infatuation for Telephus (don't frown so, mydarling creature! and make the wrinkles in your forehead worse)--Isay, really it was the talk of the whole town; and as for Glycera, shebehaved confoundedly ill to me. Well, well, now that we understand eachother, it is for ever that our hearts are united, and we can look at SirCresswell Cresswell, and snap our fingers at his wig. But this Maria ofthe last century was a woman of an ill-regulated mind. You, my love, whoknow the world, know that in the course of this lady's career a greatdeal must have passed that would not bear the light, or edify in thetelling. You know (not, my dear creature, that I mean you have anyexperience; but you have heard people say--you have heard your mothersay) that an old flirt, when she has done playing the fool withone passion, will play the fool with another; that flirting is likedrinking; and the brandy being drunk up, you--no, not you--Glycera--thebrandy being drunk up, Glycera, who has taken to drinking, will fallupon the gin. So, if Maria Esmond has found a successor for HarryWarrington, and set up a new sultan in the precious empire of her heart,what, after all, could you expect from her? That territory was likethe Low Countries, accustomed to being conquered, and for ever open toinvasion.
And Maria's present enslaver was no other than Mr. Geoghegan or Hagan,the young actor who had performed in George's tragedy. His tones were sothrilling, his eye so bright, his mien so noble, he looked so beautifulin his gilt leather armour and large buckled periwig, giving utteranceto the poet's glowing verses, that the lady's heart was yielded up tohim, even as Ariadne's to Bacchus when her affair with Theseus was over.The young Irishman was not a little touched and elated by the highborndamsel's partiality for him. He might have preferred a Lady MariaHagan more tender in years, but one more tender in disposition it weredifficult to discover. She clung to him closely, indeed. She retired tohis humble lodgings in Westminster with him, when it became necessary todisclose their marriage, and when her furious relatives disowned her.
General Lambert brought the news home from his office in Whitehall oneday, and made merry over it with his family. In those homely times ajoke was none the worse for being a little broad; and a fine lady wouldlaugh at a jolly page of Fielding, and weep over a letter of Clarissa,which would make your present ladyship's eyes start out of your headwith horror. He uttered all sorts of waggeries, did the merry General,upon the subject of this marriage; upon George's share in bringing itabout; upon Barry's jealousy when he should hear of it, He vowed it wascruel that cousin Hagan had not selected George as groomsman; that thefirst child should be called Carpezan or Sybilla, after the tragedy, andso forth. They would not quite be able to keep a coach, but they mightget a chariot and pasteboard dragons from Mr. Rich's theatre. The babymight be christened in Macbeth's caldron; and Harry and harlequin oughtcertainly to be godfathers.
"Why shouldn't she marry him if she likes him?" asked little Hetty. "Whyshould he not love her because she is a little old? Mamma is a littleold, and you love her none the worse. When you married my mamma, sir, Ihave heard you say you were very poor; and yet you were very happy, andnobody laughed at you!" Thus this impudent little person spoke by reasonof her tender age, not being aware of Lady Maria Esmond's previousfollies.
So her family has deserted her? George described what wrath they werein; how Lady Castlewood had gone into mourning; how Mr. Will swore hewould have the rascal's ears; how furious Madame de Bernstein was, themost angry of all. "It is an insult to the family," says haughty littleMiss Hett; "and I can fancy how ladies of that rank must be indignant attheir relative's marriage with a person of Mr. Hagan's condition; but todesert her is a very different matter."
"Indeed, my dear child," cries mamma, "you are talking of what you don'tunderstand. After my Lady Maria's conduct, no respectable person can goto see her."
"What conduct, mamma?"
"Never mind," cries mamma. "Little girls can't be expected to know, andought not to be too curiou
s to inquire, what Lady Maria's conduct hasbeen! Suffice it, miss, that I am shocked her ladyship should ever havebeen here; and I say again, no honest person should associate with her!"
"Then, Aunt Lambert, I must be whipped and sent to bed," says George,with mock gravity. "I own to you (though I did not confess sooner,seeing that the affair was not mine) that I have been to see my cousinthe player, and her ladyship his wife. I found them in very dirtylodgings in Westminster, where the wretch has the shabbiness to keep notonly his wife, but his old mother, and a little brother, whom he putsto school. I found Mr. Hagan, and came away with a liking, and almost arespect for him, although I own he has made a very improvident marriage.But how improvident some folks are about marriage, aren't they, Theo?"
"Improvident, if they marry such spendthrifts as you," says the General."Master George found his relations, and I'll be bound to say he left hispurse behind him."
"No, not the purse, sir," says George, smiling very tenderly. "Theo madethat. But I am bound to own it came empty away. Mr. Rich is in greatdudgeon. He says he hardly dares have Hagan on his stage, and is afraidof a riot, such as Mr. Garrick had about the foreign dancers. This is tobe a fine gentleman's riot. The macaronis are furious, and vow they willpelt Mr. Hagan, and have him cudgelled afterwards. My cousin Will, atArthur's, has taken his oath he will have the actor's ears. Meanwhile,as the poor man does not play, they have cut off his salary; and withouthis salary, this luckless pair of lovers have no means to buy bread andcheese."
"And you took it to them, sir? It was like you, George!" says Theo,worshipping him with her eyes.
"It was your purse took it, dear Theo!" replies George.
"Mamma, I hope you will go and see them to-morrow!" prays Theo.
"If she doesn't, I shall get a divorce, my dear!" cries papa. "Come andkiss me, you little wench--that is, avec la bonne permission de monsieurmon beau-fils."
"Monsieur mon beau fiddlestick, papa!" says Miss Lambert, and I haveno doubt complies with the paternal orders. And this was the first timeGeorge Esmond Warrington, Esquire, was ever called a fiddlestick.
Any man, even in our time, who makes an imprudent marriage, knows how hehas to run the gauntlet of the family, and undergo the abuse, the scorn,the wrath, the pity of his relations. If your respectable family cry outbecause you marry the curate's daughter, one in ten, let us say, of hischarming children; or because you engage yourself to the young barristerwhose only present pecuniary resources come from the court which hereports, and who will have to pay his Oxford bills out of your slenderlittle fortune;--if your friends cry out for making such engagements asthese, fancy the feelings of Lady Maria Hagan's friends, and even thoseof Mr. Hagan's, on the announcement of this marriage.
There is old Mrs. Hagan, in the first instance. Her son has kept herdutifully and in tolerable comfort, ever since he left Trinity Collegeat his father's death, and appeared as Romeo at Crow Street Theatre. Hissalary has sufficed of late years to keep the brother at school, to helpthe sister who has gone out as companion, and to provide fire, clothing,tea, dinner, and comfort for the old clergyman's widow. And now,forsooth, a fine lady, with all sorts of extravagant habits, must comeand take possession of the humble home, and share the scanty loaf andmutton! Were Hagan not a high-spirited fellow, and the old mother verymuch afraid of him, I doubt whether my lady's life at the Westminsterlodgings would be very comfortable. It was very selfish perhaps to takea place at that small table, and in poor Hagan's narrow bed. But Love insome passionate and romantic dispositions never regards consequences, ormeasures accommodation. Who has not experienced that frame of mind; whatthrifty wife has not seen and lamented her husband in that condition;when, with rather a heightened colour and a deuce-may-care smile on hisface, he comes home and announces that he has asked twenty people todinner next Saturday? He doesn't know whom exactly; and he does knowthe dining-room will only hold sixteen. Never mind! Two of the prettiestgirls can sit upon young gentlemen's knees: others won't come: there'ssure to be plenty! In the intoxication of love people venture upon thisdangerous sort of housekeeping; they don't calculate the resources oftheir dining-table, or those inevitable butchers' and fishmongers' billswhich will be brought to the ghastly housekeeper at the beginning of themonth.
Yes: it was rather selfish of my Lady Maria to seat herself at Hagan'stable and take the cream off the milk, and the wings of the chickens,and the best half of everything where there was only enough before; andno wonder the poor old mamma-in-law was disposed to grumble. But whatwas her outcry compared to the clamour at Kensington among Lady Maria'snoble family? Think of the talk and scandal all over the town! Think ofthe titters and whispers of the ladies in attendance at the Princess'scourt, where Lady Fanny had a place; of the jokes of Mr. Will'sbrother-officers at the usher's table; of the waggeries in the dailyprints and magazines; of the comments of outraged prudes; of thelaughter of the clubs and the sneers of the ungodly! At the receipt ofthe news Madame Bernstein had fits and ran off to the solitude of herdear rocks at Tunbridge Wells, where she did not see above forty peopleof a night at cards. My lord refused to see his sister; and the Countessin mourning, as we have said, waited upon one of her patronesses, agracious Princess, who was pleased to condole with her upon the disgraceand calamity which had befallen her house. For one, two, three wholedays the town was excited and amused by the scandal; then there cameother news--a victory in Germany; doubtful accounts from America; ageneral officer coming home to take his trial; an exquisite new sopranosinger from Italy; and the public forgot Lady Maria in her garret,eating the hard-earned meal of the actor's family.
This is an extract from Mr. George Warrington's letter to his brother,in which he describes other personal matters, as well as a visit he hadpaid to the newly married pair:--
"My dearest little Theo," he writes, "was eager to accompany her mammaupon this errand of charity; but I thought Aunt Lambert's visit would bebest under the circumstances, and without the attendance of her littlespinster aide-de-camp. Cousin Hagan was out when we called; we foundher ladyship in a loose undress, and with her hair in not the neatestpapers, playing at cribbage with a neighbour from the second floor,while good Mrs. Hagan sate on the other side of the fire with a glass ofpunch, and the Whole Duty of Man.
"Maria, your Maria once, cried a little when she saw us; and AuntLambert, you may be sure, was ready with her sympathy. While shebestowed it on Lady Maria, I paid the best compliments I could invent tothe old lady. When the conversation between Aunt L. and the bride beganto flag, I turned to the latter, and between us we did our best to makea dreary interview pleasant. Our talk was about you, about Wolfe, aboutwar; you must be engaged face to face with the Frenchmen by this time,and God send my dearest brother safe and victorious out of the battle!Be sure we follow your steps anxiously--we fancy you at Cape Breton.We have plans of Quebec, and charts of the St. Lawrence. Shall I everforget your face of joy that day when you saw me return safe and soundfrom the little combat with the little Frenchman? So will my Harry, Iknow, return from his battle. I feel quite assured of it; elated somehowwith the prospect of your certain success and safety. And I have madeall here share my cheerfulness. We talk of the campaign as over, andCaptain Warrington's promotion as secure. Pray Heaven, all our hopes maybe fulfilled one day ere long.
"How strange it is that you who are the mettlesome fellow (you know youare) should escape quarrels hitherto, and I, who am a peaceful youth,wishing no harm to anybody, should have battles thrust upon me! What doyou think actually of my having had another affair upon my wicked hands,and with whom, think you? With no less a personage than your old enemy,our kinsman, Mr. Will.
"What or who set him to quarrel with me, I cannot think. Spencer(who acted as second for me, for matters actually have gone thislength;--don't be frightened; it is all over, and nobody is a scratchthe worse) thinks some one set Will on me, but who, I say? His conducthas been most singular; his behaviour quite unbearable. We have metpretty frequently lately at the house of good Mr. Van den Bos
ch, whosepretty granddaughter was consigned to both of us by our good mother. Oh,dear mother! did you know that the little thing was to be such acausa belli, and to cause swords to be drawn, and precious lives tobe menaced? But so it has been. To show his own spirit, I suppose, orhaving some reasonable doubt about mine, whenever Will and I have metat Mynheer's house--and he is for ever going there--he has shown suchdownright rudeness to me, that I have required more than ordinarypatience to keep my temper. He has contradicted me once, twice, thricein the presence of the family, and out of sheer spite and rage, asit appeared to me. Is he paying his addresses to Miss Lydia, and herfather's ships, negroes, and forty thousand pounds? I should guess so.The old gentleman is for ever talking about his money, and adores hisgranddaughter, and as she is a beautiful little creature, numbers offolk here are ready to adore her too. Was Will rascal enough to fancythat I would give up my Theo for a million of guineas, and negroes, andVenus to boot? Could the thought of such baseness enter into the man'smind? I don't know that he has accused me of stealing Van den Bosch'sspoons and tankards when we dine there, or of robbing on the highway.But for one reason or the other he has chosen to be jealous of me,and as I have parried his impertinences with little sarcastic speeches(though perfectly civil before company), perhaps I have once or twicemade him angry. Our little Miss Lydia has unwittingly added fuel to thefire on more than one occasion, especially yesterday, when there wastalk about your worship.
"'Ah!' says the heedless little thing, as we sat over our dessert, ''tislucky for you, Mr. Esmond, that Captain Harry is not here.'
"'Why, miss?' asks he, with one of his usual conversational ornaments.He must have offended some fairy in his youth, who has caused him todrop curses for ever out of his mouth, as she did the girl to spit outtoads and serpents. (I know some one from whose gentle lips there onlyfall pure pearls and diamonds.) 'Why?' says Will, with a cannonade ofoaths.
"'O fie!' says she, putting up the prettiest little fingers to theprettiest little rosy ears in the world. 'O fie, sir! to use suchnaughty words. 'Tis lucky the Captain is not here, because he mightquarrel with you; and Mr. George is so peaceable and quiet, that hewon't. Have you heard from the Captain, Mr. George?'
"'From Cape Breton,' says I. 'He is very well, thank you; that is----'I couldn't finish the sentence, for I was in such a rage that I scarcecould contain myself.
"'From the Captain, as you call him, Miss Lyddy,' says Will. 'He'lldistinguish himself as he did at Saint Cas! Ho, ho!'
"'So I apprehend he did, sir,' says Will's brother.
"'Did he?' says our dear cousin; 'always thought he ran away; took tohis legs; got a ducking, and ran away as if a bailiff was after him.'
"'La!' says Miss, 'did the Captain ever have a bailiff after him?'
"'Didn't he? Ho, ho!' laughs Mr. Will.
"I suppose I must have looked very savage, for Spencer, who was diningwith us, trod on my foot under the table. 'Don't laugh so loud, cousin,'I said, very gently; 'you may wake good old Mr. Van den Bosch.' The goodold gentleman was asleep in his arm-chair, to which he commonly retiresfor a nap after dinner.
"'Oh, indeed, cousin,' says Will, and he turns and winks at a friend ofhis, Captain Deuceace, whose own and whose wife's reputation I dare sayyou heard of when you frequented the clubs, and whom Will has introducedinto this simple family as a man of the highest fashion. 'Don't beafraid, miss,' says Mr. Will, 'nor my cousin needn't be.'
"'Oh, what a comfort!' cries Miss Lyddy. 'Keep quite quiet, gentlemen,and don't quarrel, and come up to me when I send to say the tea isready.' And with this she makes a sweet little curtsey, and disappears.
"'Hang it, Jack, pass the bottle, and don't wake the old gentleman!'continues Mr. Will. 'Won't you help yourself, cousin?' he continues;being particularly facetious in the tone of that word cousin.
"'I am going to help myself,' I said; 'but I am not going to drink theglass; and I'll tell you what I am going to do with it, if you will bequite quiet, cousin.' (Desperate kicks from Spencer all this time.)
"'And what the deuce do I care what you are going to do with it?' asksWill, looking rather white.
"'I am going to fling it into your face, cousin,' says I, very rapidlyperforming that feat.
"'By Jove, and no mistake!' cries Mr. Deuceace; and as he and Williamroared out an oath together, good old Van den Bosch woke up, and, takingthe pocket-handkerchief off his face, asked what was the matter.
"I remarked it was only a glass of wine gone the wrong way and theold man said; 'Well, well, there is more where that came from! Let thebutler bring you what you please, young gentlemen!' and he sank back inhis great chair, and began to sleep again.
"'From the back of Montagu House Gardens there is a beautiful view ofHampstead at six o'clock in the morning; and the statue of the King onSt. George's Church is reckoned elegant, cousin!' says I, resuming theconversation.
"'D---- the statue!' begins Will; but I said, 'Don't, cousin! or youwill wake up the old gentleman. Had we not best go upstairs to MissLyddy's tea-table?'
"We arranged a little meeting for the next morning; and a coronermight have been sitting upon one or other, or both, of our bodies thisafternoon; but, would you believe it? just as our engagement was aboutto take place, we were interrupted by three of Sir John Fielding's men,and carried to Bow Street, and ignominiously bound over to keep thepeace.
"Who gave the information? Not I, or Spencer, I can vow. Though I ownI was pleased when the constables came running to us; bludgeon in hand:for I had no wish to take Will's blood, or sacrifice my own to such arascal. Now, sir, have you such a battle as this to describe to me?--abattle of powder and no shot?--a battle of swords as bloody as any onthe stage? I have filled my paper, without finishing the story of Mariaand her Hagan. You must have it by the next ship. You see, the quarrelwith Will took place yesterday, very soon after I had written the firstsentence or two of my letter. I had been dawdling till dinner-time (Ilooked at the paper last night, when I was grimly making certain littleaccounts up, and wondered shall I ever finish this letter?), and nowthe quarrel has been so much more interesting to me than poor Molly'slove-adventures, that behold my paper is full to the brim! Wherever mydearest Harry reads it, I know that there will be a heart full of lovefor--His loving brother, G. E. W."
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