But do not imagine that with all this Lenity I have for a moment given up my plan of her marriage; No, I am unalterably fixed on this point, tho’ I have not yet quite decided on the manner of bringing it about. I should not chuse to have the business brought forward here, & canvassed by the wise heads of Mr. & Mrs. Vernon; & I cannot just now afford to go to Town. Miss Frederica therefore must wait a little.
Yours Ever
S. VERNON.
Letter 20
Mrs. Vernon to Lady De Courcy.
Churchill.
We have a very unexpected Guest with us at present, my dear Mother. He arrived yesterday. I heard a carriage at the door, as I was sitting with my children while they dined; & supposing I should be wanted, left the Nursery soon afterwards, & was half-way downstairs, when Frederica, as pale as ashes, came running up, & rushed by me into her own room. I instantly followed, & asked her what was the matter. “Oh!” cried she, “he is come, Sir James is come—& what am I to do?” This was no explanation; I begged her to tell me what she meant. At that moment we were interrupted by a knock at the door: it was Reginald, who came, by Lady Susan’s direction, to call Frederica down. “It is Mr. De Courcy!” said she, colouring violently. “Mamma has sent for me, & I must go.” We all three went down together; & I saw my Brother examining the terrified face of Frederica with surprise. In the breakfast-room we found Lady Susan, & a young Man of genteel appearance, whom she introduced to me by the name of Sir James Martin—the very person, as you may remember, whom it was said she had been at pains to detach from Miss Manwaring. But the conquest, it seems, was not designed for herself, or she has since transferred it to her daughter; for Sir James is now desperately in love with Frederica, & with full encouragement from Mama. The poor girl, however, I am sure, dislikes him; & tho’ his person & address are very well, he appears, both to Mr. Vernon & me, a very weak young Man.
Frederica looked so shy, so confused, when we entered the room, that I felt for her exceedingly. Lady Susan behaved with great attention to her Visitor; & yet I thought I could perceive that she had no particular pleasure in seeing him. Sir James talked a great deal, & made many civil excuses to me for the liberty he had taken in coming to Churchill—mixing more frequent laughter with his discourse than the subject required—said many things over & over again, & told Lady Susan three times that he had seen Mrs. Johnson a few Evenings before. He now & then addressed Frederica, but more frequently her Mother. The poor girl sat all this time without opening her lips—her eyes cast down, & her colour varying every instant; while Reginald observed all that passed in perfect silence.
At length Lady Susan, weary I believe of her situation, proposed walking; & we left the two gentlemen together, to put on our Pelisses.
As we went upstairs, Lady Susan begged permission to attend me for a few moments in my Dressing room, as she was anxious to speak with me in private. I led her thither accordingly, & as soon as the door was closed, she said, “I was never more surprised in my life than by Sir James’s arrival, & the suddenness of it requires some apology to _You_, my dear Sister; tho’ to _me_, as a Mother, it is highly flattering. He is so extremely attached to my Daughter that he could not exist longer without seeing her. Sir James is a young man of an amiable disposition & excellent character; a little too much of the _Rattle_, perhaps, but a year or two will rectify _that_; & he is in other respects so very eligible a Match for Frederica, that I have always observed his attachment with the greatest pleasure, & am persuaded that you & my Brother will give the alliance your hearty approbation. I have never before mentioned the likelihood of its taking place to any one, because I thought that while Frederica continued at school it had better not be known to exist; but now, as I am convinced that Frederica is too old ever to submit to school confinement, & have therefore begun to consider her union with Sir James as not very distant, I had intended within a few days to acquaint yourself & Mr. Vernon with the whole business. I am sure, my dear Sister, you will excuse my remaining silent so long, & agree with me that such circumstances, while they continue from any cause in suspense, cannot be too cautiously concealed. When you have the happiness of bestowing your sweet little Catherine, some years hence, on a Man who in connection & character is alike unexceptionable, you will know what I feel now; tho’ Thank Heaven! you cannot have all my reasons for rejoicing in such an Event. Catherine will be amply provided for, & not, like my Frederica, indebted to a fortunate Establishment for the comforts of Life.” She concluded by demanding my congratulations. I gave them somewhat awkwardly, I believe; for in fact, the sudden disclosure of so important a matter took from me the power of speaking with any clearness. She thanked me, however, most affectionately, for my kind concern in the welfare of herself & daughter; & then said, “I am not apt to deal in professions, my dear Mrs. Vernon, & I never had the convenient talent of affecting sensations foreign to my heart; & therefore I trust you will believe me when I declare that, much as I had heard in your praise before I knew you, I had no idea that I should ever love you as I now do; & I must further say that your friendship towards me is more particularly gratifying because I have reason to believe that some attempts were made to prejudice you against me. I only wish that They—whoever they are—to whom I am indebted for such kind intentions, could see the terms on which we now are together, & understand the real affection we feel for each other! But I will not detain you any longer. God bless you for your goodness to me & my girl, & continue to you all your present happiness.” What can one say of such a Woman, my dear Mother? Such earnestness, such solemnity of expression! & yet I cannot help suspecting the truth of everything she said.
As for Reginald, I believe he does not know what to make of the matter. When Sir James first came, he appeared all astonishment & perplexity. The folly of the young Man & the confusion of Frederica entirely engrossed him; & tho’ a little private discourse with Lady Susan has since had its effect, he is still hurt, I am sure, at her allowing of such a Man’s attentions to her daughter.
Sir James invited himself with great composure to remain here a few days—hoped we would not think it odd, was aware of its being very impertinent, but he took the liberty of a relation; & concluded by wishing, with a laugh, that he might be really one soon. Even Lady Susan seemed a little disconcerted by this forwardness; in her heart, I am persuaded, she sincerely wishes him gone.
But something must be done for this poor Girl, if her feelings are such as both her Uncle & I believe them to be. She must not be sacrificed to Policy or Ambition; she must not be even left to suffer from the dread of it. The Girl whose heart can distinguish Reginald De Courcy deserves, however he may slight her, a better fate than to be Sir James Martin’s wife. As soon as I can get her alone, I will discover the real Truth; but she seems to wish to avoid me. I hope this does not proceed from anything wrong, & that I shall not find out I have thought too well of her. Her behaviour to Sir James certainly speaks the greatest consciousness & Embarrassment, but I see nothing in it more like Encouragement. Adieu, my dear Madam.
Yrs, &c.
CATH. VERNON.
Dear Mr. Murray, I would urge you to reconsider your intention of publishing this Lady’s account as an appendix to mine. It is not only false, it is malicious and—dare I say?—vulgar. As such its publication can do little credit to your esteemed firm. I remain, yours faithfully, Rufus Martin-Colonna
Letter 21
Miss Vernon to Mr. De Courcy.
Sir,
I hope you will excuse this liberty; I am forced upon it by the greatest distress, or I should be ashamed to trouble you. I am very miserable about Sir James Martin, & have no other way in the world of helping myself but by writing to you, for I am forbidden ever speaking to my Uncle or Aunt on the subject; & this being the case, I am afraid my applying to you will appear no better than equivocation, & as if I attended only to the letter & not the spirit of Mama’s commands. But if _you_ do not take my part & persuade her to break it off, I shall be half distracted, for I c
annot bear him. No human Being but _you_ could have any chance of prevailing with her. If you will, therefore, have the unspeakable great kindness of taking my part with her, & persuading her to send Sir James away, I shall be more obliged to you than it is possible for me to express. I always disliked him from the first; it is not a sudden fancy, I assure you, Sir; I always thought him silly & impertinent & disagreable, & now he is grown worse than ever. I would rather work for my bread than marry him. I do not know how to apologize enough for this Letter; I know it is taking so great a liberty; I am aware how dreadfully angry it will make Mama, but I must run the risk. I am, Sir, your most Humble Servt.
F. S. V.
Letter 22
Lady Susan to Mrs. Johnson.
Churchill.
This is insufferable! My dearest friend, I was never so enraged before, & must relieve myself by writing to you, who I know will enter into all my feelings. Who should come on Tuesday but Sir James Martin! Guess my astonishment & vexation—for, as you well know, I never wished him to be seen at Churchill. What a pity that you should not have known his intentions! Not content with coming, he actually invited himself to remain here a few days. I could have poisoned him! I made the best of it, however, & told my story with great success to Mrs. Vernon, who, whatever might be her real sentiments, said nothing in opposition to mine. I made a point also of Frederica’s behaving civilly to Sir James, & gave her to understand that I was absolutely determined on her marrying him. She said something of her misery, but that was all. I have for some time been more particularly resolved on the Match from seeing the rapid increase of her affection for Reginald, & from not feeling perfectly secure that a knowledge of _that_ affection might not in the end awaken a return. Contemptible as a regard founded only on compassion must make them both in my eyes, I felt by no means assured that such might not be the consequence. It is true that Reginald had not in any degree grown cool towards me; but yet he had lately mentioned Frederica spontaneously & unnecessarily, & once had said something in praise of her person. _He_ was all astonishment at the appearance of my visitor, & at first observed Sir James with an attention which I was pleased to see not unmixed with jealousy; but unluckily it was impossible for me really to torment him, as Sir James, tho’ extremely gallant to me, very soon made the whole party understand that his heart was devoted to my daughter.
I had no great difficulty in convincing De Courcy, when we were alone, that I was perfectly justified, all things considered, in desiring the match; & the whole business seemed most comfortably arranged. They could none of them help perceiving that Sir James was no Solomon; but I had positively forbidden Frederica’s complaining to Charles Vernon or his wife, & they had therefore no pretence for Interference; tho’ my impertinent Sister, I believe, wanted only opportunity for doing so.
Everything, however, was going on calmly & quietly; & tho’ I counted the hours of Sir James’s stay, my mind was entirely satisfied with the posture of affairs. Guess, then, what I must feel at the sudden disturbance of all my schemes; & that, too, from a quarter whence I had least reason to apprehend it. Reginald came this morning into my Dressing room with a very unusual solemnity of countenance, & after some preface informed me in so many words that he wished to reason with me on the Impropriety & Unkindness of allowing Sir James Martin to address my Daughter contrary to _her_ inclination. I was all amazement. When I found that he was not to be laughed out of his design, I calmly required an explanation, & begged to know by what he was impelled, & by whom commissioned to reprimand me. He then told me, mixing in his speech a few insolent compliments, & ill-timed expressions of Tenderness, to which I listened with perfect indifference, that my daughter had acquainted him with some circumstances concerning herself, Sir James, & me, which gave him great uneasiness.
In short, I found that she had in the first place actually written to him to request his interference, & that on receiving her Letter, he had conversed with her on the subject of it, in order to understand the particulars, & assure himself of her real wishes!
I have not a doubt but that the girl took this opportunity of making downright Love to him. I am convinced of it from the manner in which he spoke of her. Much good may such Love do him! I shall ever despise the Man who can be gratified by the Passion which he never wished to inspire, nor solicited the avowal of. I shall always detest them both. He can have no true regard for me, or he would not have listened to her; and she, with her little rebellious heart & indelicate feelings, to throw herself into the protection of a young Man with whom she has scarcely ever exchanged two words before! I am equally confounded at _her_ Impudence & _his_ Credulity. How dared he believe what she told him in my disfavour! Ought he not to have felt assured that I must have unanswerable Motives for all that I had done? Where was his reliance on my Sense & Goodness then? Where the resentment which true Love would have dictated against the person defaming me—that person, too, a Chit, a Child, without Talent or Education, whom he had been always taught to despise?
I was calm for some time; but the greatest degree of Forbearance may be overcome, & I hope I was afterwards sufficiently keen. He endeavoured, long endeavoured, to soften my resentment; but that woman is a fool indeed who, while insulted by accusation, can be worked on by compliments. At length he left me, as deeply provoked as myself; & he shewed his anger _more_. I was quite cool, but he gave way to the most violent indignation. I may therefore expect it will the sooner subside; & perhaps his may be vanished forever, while mine will be found still fresh & implacable.
He is now shut up in his apartment, whither I heard him go on leaving mine. How unpleasant, one would think, must his reflections be! But some people’s feelings are incomprehensible. I have not yet tranquillized myself enough to see Frederica. _She_ shall not soon forget the occurrences of this day; she shall find that she has poured forth her tender Tale of Love in vain, & exposed herself forever to the contempt of the whole world, & the severest Resentment of her injured Mother.
Yrs. affec:ly
S. VERNON.
Letter 23
Mrs. Vernon to Lady De Courcy.
Churchill.
Let me congratulate you, my dearest Mother! The affair which has given us so much anxiety is drawing to a happy conclusion. Our prospect is most delightful; & since matters have now taken so favourable a turn, I am quite sorry that I ever imparted my apprehensions to you; for the pleasure of learning that the danger is over is perhaps dearly purchased by all that you have previously suffered.
I am so much agitated by Delight that I can scarcely hold a pen; but am determined to send you a few short lines by James, that you may have some explanation of what must so greatly astonish you, as that Reginald should be returning to Parklands.
I was sitting about half an hour ago with Sir James in the Breakfast parlour, when my Brother called me out of the room. I instantly saw that something was the matter; his complexion was raised, & he spoke with great emotion. You know his eager manner, my dear Madam, when his mind is interested.
“Catherine,” said he, “I am going home today; I am sorry to leave you, but I must go. It is a great while since I have seen my Father & Mother. I am going to send James forward with my Hunters immediately; if you have any Letter, therefore, he can take it. I shall not be at home myself till Wednesday or Thursday, as I shall go through London, where I have business. But before I leave you,” he continued, speaking in a lower voice, & with still greater energy, “I must warn you of one thing—do not let Frederica Vernon be made unhappy by that Martin. He wants to marry her—her Mother promotes the Match—but _she_ cannot endure the idea of it. Be assured that I speak from the fullest conviction of the Truth of what I say; I _know_ that Frederica is made wretched by Sir James’ continuing here. She is a sweet girl, & deserves a better fate. Send him away immediately. _He_ is only a fool—but what her Mother can mean, Heaven only knows! Good-bye,” he added, shaking my hand with earnestness—“I do not know when you will see me again; but remember what I tell you o
f Frederica; you _must_ make it your business to see justice done her. She is an amiable girl, & has a very superior Mind to what we have ever given her credit for.”
He then left me, & ran upstairs. I would not try to stop him, for I know what his feelings must be; the nature of mine, as I listened to him, I need not attempt to describe. For a minute or two, I remained in the same spot, overpowered by wonder—of a most agreable sort indeed; yet it required some consideration to be tranquilly happy.
In about ten minutes after my return to the parlour, Lady Susan entered the room. I concluded, of course, that she & Reginald had been quarrelling, & looked with anxious curiosity for a confirmation of my beleif in her face. Mistress of Deceit, however, she appeared perfectly unconcerned, & after chatting on indifferent subjects for a short time, said to me, “I find from Wilson that we are going to lose Mr. De Courcy—is it true that he leaves Churchill this morning?” I replied that it was. “He told us nothing of all this last night,” said she, laughing, “or even this morning at Breakfast; but perhaps he did not know it himself. Young Men are often hasty in their resolutions—& not more sudden in forming than unsteady in keeping them. I should not be surprised if he were to change his mind at last, & not go.” She soon afterwards left the room. I trust, however, my dear Mother, that we have no reason to fear an alteration of his present plan; things have gone too far. They must have quarrelled, & about Frederica too. Her calmness astonishes me. What delight will be yours in seeing him again, in seeing him still worthy of your Esteem, still capable of forming your Happiness!
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