Love & Friendship

by Whit Stillman

  I know that Lady Susan in coming to Churchill was governed only by the most honourable & amiable intentions; her prudence & economy are exemplary, her regard for Mr. Vernon equal even to _his_ deserts; & her wish of obtaining my sister’s good opinion merits a better return than it has received. As a Mother she is unexceptionable; her solid affection for her Child is shewn by placing her in hands where her Education will be properly attended to; but because she has not the blind & weak partiality of most Mothers, she is accused of wanting Maternal Tenderness. Every person of Sense, however, will know how to value & commend her well-directed affection, & will join me in wishing that Frederica Vernon may prove more worthy than she has yet done of her Mother’s tender care.

  I have now, my dear Sir, written my real sentiments of Lady Susan; you will know from this Letter how highly I admire her Abilities, & esteem her Character; but if you are not equally convinced by my full & solemn assurance that your fears have been most idly created, you will deeply mortify & distress me.—I am, &c.

  R. DE COURCY.

  Note on Letter the Fourteenth: Finally an acknowledgment of the Truth! Curious to find it here—and to divine what the Lady author’s ulterior intention might have been.

  Letter 15

  Mrs. Vernon to Lady De Courcy.

  Churchill.

  My dear Mother

  I return you Reginald’s letter, & rejoice with all my heart that my Father is made easy by it. Tell him so, with my congratulations; but between ourselves, I must own it has only convinced _me_ of my Brother’s having no _present_ intention of marrying Lady Susan—not that he is in no danger of doing so three months hence. He gives a very plausible account of her behaviour at Langford; I wish it may be true, but his intelligence must come from herself, & I am less disposed to believe it than to lament the degree of intimacy subsisting between them implied by the discussion of such a subject.

  I am sorry to have incurred his displeasure, but can expect nothing better while he is so very eager in Lady Susan’s justification. He is very severe against me indeed, & yet I hope I have not been hasty in my judgement of her. Poor Woman! tho’ I have reasons enough for my dislike, I cannot help pitying her at present, as she is in real distress, & with too much cause. She had this morning a letter from the Lady with whom she has placed her daughter, to request that Miss Vernon might be immediately removed, as she had been detected in an attempt to run away. Why, or whither she intended to go, does not appear; but as her situation seems to have been unexceptionable, it is a sad thing, & of course highly afflicting to Lady Susan.

  Frederica must be as much as sixteen, & ought to know better; but from what her Mother insinuates, I am afraid she is a perverse girl. She has been sadly neglected, however, & her Mother ought to remember it.

  Mr. Vernon set off for Town as soon as she had determined what should be done. He is, if possible, to prevail on Miss Summers to let Frederica continue with her; & if he cannot succeed, to bring her to Churchill for the present, till some other situation can be found for her. Her Ladyship is comforting herself meanwhile by strolling along the Shrubbery with Reginald, calling forth all his tender feelings, I suppose, on this distressing occasion. She has been talking a great deal about it to me. She talks vastly well; I am afraid of being ungenerous, or I should say _too_ well to feel so very deeply. But I will not look for Faults; she may be Reginald’s Wife—Heaven forbid it!—but why should I be quicker-sighted than anybody else? Mr. Vernon declares that he never saw deeper distress than hers, on the receipt of the Letter—& is his judgement inferior to mine?

  She was very unwilling that Frederica should be allowed to come to Churchill, & justly enough, as it seems a sort of reward to Behaviour deserving very differently; but it was impossible to take her anywhere else, & she is not to remain here long. “It will be absolutely necessary,” said she, “as you, my dear Sister, must be sensible, to treat my daughter with some severity while she is here;—a most painful necessity, but I will endeavour to submit to it. I am afraid I have often been too indulgent, but my poor Frederica’s temper could never bear opposition well. You must support & encourage me—You must urge the necessity of reproof if you see me too lenient.”

  All this sounds very reasonably. Reginald is so incensed against the poor silly Girl! Surely it is not to Lady Susan’s credit that he should be so bitter against her daughter; his idea of her must be drawn from the Mother’s description.

  Well, whatever may be his fate, we have the comfort of knowing that we have done our utmost to save him. We must commit the event to an Higher Power. Yours Ever, &c.

  CATH. VERNON.

  Note on Letter the Fifteenth: I am not certain that I am in perfect accord with Mr. John Murray’s decision to include the authoress’ false account as an appendix to this memoir.

  Mr. Murray’s reasoning, so far as I follow it, is that the spinster’s slanders had already been so widely circulated that they could not do further harm, while directly juxtaposing her malicious inventions with the true account would more clearly and directly refute them.

  I cannot forget the troubling factum that Mr. Murray is also the publisher of this Lady’s final so-called “novels.” Could his true interest be to attract Readers to these other works by attaching her history to a superior volume? Such a conflict of motives is not unknown in the world of book-jobbers, though I make no accusation.

  I have therefore decided to refrain further comment on these letters, the malicious falseness of which should be self-evident. Perhaps in future printings—many are anticipated—this slanderous addendum could be omitted, which might permit a lower price, putting a valuable work in the hands of a wider readership.

  Letter 16

  Lady Susan to Mrs. Johnson.

  Churchill.

  Never, my dearest Alicia, was I so provoked in my life as by a Letter this morning from Miss Summers. That horrid girl of mine has been trying to run away. I had not a notion of her being such a little devil before, she seemed to have all the Vernon Milkiness; but on receiving the letter in which I declared my intention about Sir James, she actually attempted to elope; at least, I cannot otherwise account for her doing it. She meant, I suppose, to go to the Clarkes in Staffordshire, for she has no other acquaintance. But she _shall_ be punished, she _shall_ have him. I have sent Charles to Town to make matters up if he can, for I do not by any means want her here. If Miss Summers will not keep her, you must find me out another school, unless we can get her married immediately. Miss S. writes word that she could not get the young Lady to assign any cause for her extraordinary conduct, which confirms me in my own private explanation of it. Frederica is too shy, I think, & too much in awe of me to tell tales; but if the mildness of her Uncle _should_ get anything from her, I am not afraid. I trust I shall be able to make my story as good as hers. If I am vain of anything, it is of my eloquence. Consideration & Esteem as surely follow command of Language, as Admiration waits on Beauty. And here I have opportunity enough for the exercise of my Talent, as the cheif of my time is spent in Conversation. Reginald is never easy unless we are by ourselves, & when the weather is tolerable, we pace the shrubbery for hours together. I like him on the whole very well; he is clever & has a good deal to say, but he is sometimes impertinent & troublesome. There is a sort of ridiculous delicacy about him which requires the fullest explanation of whatever he may have heard to my disadvantage, & is never satisfied till he thinks he has ascertained the beginning & end of everything.

  This is _one_ sort of Love, but I confess it does not particularly recommend itself to me. I infinitely prefer the tender & liberal spirit of Manwaring, which, impressed with the deepest conviction of my merit, is satisfied that whatever I do must be right; & look with a degree of contempt on the inquisitive & doubtful Fancies of that Heart which seems always debating on the reasonableness of its Emotions. Manwaring is indeed, beyond compare, superior to Reginald—superior in everything but the power of being with me! Poor fellow! he is quite distracted by Jealousy, w
hich I am not sorry for, as I know no better support of Love. He has been teizing me to allow of his coming into this country, & lodging somewhere near _incog._—but I forbid anything of the kind. Those women are inexcusable who forget what is due to themselves & the opinion of the World.

  S. VERNON.

  Letter 17

  Mrs. Vernon to Lady De Courcy.

  Churchill.

  My dear Mother

  Mr. Vernon returned on Thursday night, bringing his neice with him. Lady Susan had received a line from him by that day’s post, informing her that Miss Summers had absolutely refused to allow of Miss Vernon’s continuance in her Academy; we were therefore prepared for her arrival, & expected them impatiently the whole evening. They came while we were at Tea, & I never saw any creature look so frightened in my life as Frederica when she entered the room.

  Lady Susan, who had been shedding tears before, & shewing great agitation at the idea of the meeting, received her with perfect self-command, & without betraying the least tenderness of spirit. She hardly spoke to her, & on Frederica’s bursting into tears as soon as we were seated, took her out of the room, & did not return for some time. When she did, her eyes looked very red, & she was as much agitated as before. We saw no more of her daughter. Poor Reginald was beyond measure concerned to see his fair friend in such distress, & watched her with so much tender solicitude, that I, who occasionally caught her observing his countenance with exultation, was quite out of patience. This pathetic representation lasted the whole evening, & so ostentatious & artful a display had entirely convinced me that she did in fact feel nothing.

  I am more angry with her than ever since I have seen her daughter; the poor girl looks so unhappy that my heart aches for her. Lady Susan is surely too severe, for Frederica does not seem to have the sort of temper to make severity necessary. She looks perfectly timid, dejected, & penitent.

  She is very pretty, tho’ not so handsome as her Mother, nor at all like her. Her complexion is delicate, but neither so fair nor so blooming as Lady Susan’s—& she has quite the Vernon cast of countenance, the oval face & mild dark eyes, & there is peculiar sweetness in her look when she speaks either to her Uncle or me, for as we behave kindly to her we have of course engaged her gratitude. Her Mother has insinuated that her temper is untractable, but I never saw a face less indicative of any evil disposition than hers; & from what I now see of the behaviour of each to the other, the invariable severity of Lady Susan & the silent dejection of Frederica, I am led to believe as heretofore that the former has no real Love for her daughter, & has never done her justice or treated her affectionately.

  I have not yet been able to have any conversation with my neice; she is shy, & I think I can see that some pains are taken to prevent her being much with me. Nothing satisfactory transpires as to her reason for running away. Her kind-hearted Uncle, you may be sure, was too fearful of distressing her to ask many questions as they travelled. I wish it had been possible for me to fetch her instead of him; I think I should have discovered the truth in the course of a Thirty-mile Journey.

  The small Pianoforte’ has been removed within these few days, at Lady Susan’s request, into her Dressing room, & Frederica spends great part of the day there; _practising_, it is called; but I seldom hear any noise when I pass that way. What she does with herself there, I do not know; there are plenty of books in the room, but it is not every girl who has been running wild the first fifteen years of her life, that can or will read. Poor Creature! the prospect from her window is not very instructive, for that room overlooks the Lawn, you know, with the Shrubbery on one side, where she may see her Mother walking for an hour together in earnest conversation with Reginald. A girl of Frederica’s age must be childish indeed, if such things do not strike her. Is it not inexcusable to give such an example to a daughter? Yet Reginald still thinks Lady Susan the best of Mothers—still condemns Frederica as a worthless girl! He is convinced that her attempt to run away proceeded from no justifiable cause, & had no provocation. I am sure I cannot say that it _had_, but while Miss Summers declares that Miss Vernon shewed no signs of Obstinacy or Perverseness during her whole stay in Wigmore Street, till she was detected in this scheme, I cannot so readily credit what Lady Susan has made him & wants to make me believe, that it was merely an impatience of restraint & a desire of escaping from the tuition of Masters which brought on the plan of an elopement. Oh! Reginald, how is your Judgement enslaved! He scarcely dares even allow her to be handsome, & when I speak of her beauty, replies only that her eyes have no Brilliancy!

  Sometimes he is sure she is deficient in Understanding, & at others that her temper only is in fault. In short, when a person is always to deceive, it is impossible to be consistent. Lady Susan finds it necessary for her own justification that Frederica should be to blame, & probably has sometimes judged it expedient to accuse her of ill-nature & sometimes to lament her want of sense. Reginald is only repeating after her Ladyship.

  I am &c.

  CATH. VERNON.

  Letter 18

  From the same to the same.

  Churchill.

  My dear Madam

  I am very glad to find that my description of Frederica Vernon has interested you, for I do believe her truly deserving of your regard; & when I have communicated a notion which has recently struck me, your kind impressions in her favour will, I am sure, be heightened. I cannot help fancying that she is growing partial to my Brother; I so very often see her eyes fixed on his face with a remarkable expression of pensive admiration! He is certainly very handsome; & yet more, there is an openness in his manner that must be highly prepossessing, & I am sure she feels it so. Thoughtful & pensive in general, her countenance always brightens into a smile when Reginald says anything amusing; and, let the subject be ever so serious that he may be conversing on, I am much mistaken if a syllable of his uttering escapes her.

  I want to make _him_ sensible of all this, for we know the power of gratitude on such a heart as his; & could Frederica’s artless affection detach him from her Mother, we might bless the day which brought her to Churchill. I think, my dear Madam, you would not disapprove of her as a Daughter. She is extremely young, to be sure, has had a wretched Education, & a dreadful example of Levity in her Mother; but yet I can pronounce her disposition to be excellent, & her natural abilities very good. Though totally without accomplishments, she is by no means so ignorant as one might expect to find her, being fond of books & spending the cheif of her time in reading. Her Mother leaves her more to herself now than she _did_, & I have her with me as much as possible, & have taken great pains to overcome her timidity. We are very good friends, & tho’ she never opens her lips before her Mother, she talks enough when alone with me to make it clear that, if properly treated by Lady Susan, she would always appear to much greater advantage. There cannot be a more gentle, affectionate heart; or more obliging manners, when acting without restraint. Her little Cousins are all very fond of her.

  Yrs. affec:ly,

  CATH. VERNON.

  Letter 19

  Lady Susan to Mrs. Johnson.

  Churchill.

  You will be eager, I know, to hear something farther of Frederica, & perhaps may think me negligent for not writing before. She arrived with her Uncle last Thursday fortnight, when, of course, I lost no time in demanding the reason of her behaviour; & soon found myself to have been perfectly right in attributing it to my own letter. The purport of it frightened her so thoroughly that, with a mixture of true girlish perverseness & folly, without considering that she could not escape from my authority by running away from Wigmore Street, she resolved on getting out of the house & proceeding directly by the stage to her friends, the Clarkes; & had really got as far as the length of two streets in her journey when she was fortunately miss’d, pursued, & overtaken.

  Such was the first distinguished exploit of Miss Frederica Susanna Vernon; & if we consider that it was achieved at the tender age of sixteen, we shall have room for the most flatteri
ng prognostics of her future renown. I am excessively provoked, however, at the parade of propriety which prevented Miss Summers from keeping the girl; & it seems so extraordinary a piece of nicety, considering my daughter’s family connections, that I can only suppose the Lady to be governed by the fear of never getting her money. Be that as it may, however, Frederica is returned on my hands; and having now nothing else to employ her, is busy in pursuing the plan of Romance begun at Langford. She is actually falling in love with Reginald De Courcy! To disobey her Mother by refusing an unexceptionable offer is not enough; her affections must likewise be given without her Mother’s approbation. I never saw a girl of her age bid fairer to be the sport of Mankind. Her feelings are tolerably acute, & she is so charmingly artless in their display as to afford the most reasonable hope of her being ridiculed & despised by every Man who sees her.

  Artlessness will never do in Love matters; & that girl is born a simpleton who has it either by nature or affectation. I am not yet certain that Reginald sees what she is about; nor is it of much consequence. She is now an object of indifference to him; she would be one of contempt were he to understand her Emotions. Her beauty is much admired by the Vernons, but it has no effect on _him_. She is in high favour with her Aunt altogether—because she is so little like myself, of course. She is exactly the companion for Mrs. Vernon, who dearly loves to be first, & to have all the sense & all the wit of the Conversation to herself: Frederica will never eclipse her. When she first came, I was at some pains to prevent her seeing much of her Aunt; but I have since relaxed, as I believe I may depend on her observing the rules I have laid down for their discourse.