The Accidental Recontre
The ladies took in all the sights and card parties of Bath, as everybody did, in and out of the season. There was nothing new in this social g round to Augusta, with her eight seasons' experience of the place; but it did often occur to her, in the course of her multifarious activities, that, of all the people she had met during them, none had ever been more attractive to her than this Mr. Elton. He was very handsome, and decidedly agreeable; that he liked her was beyond question; and the Miss Milmans had swiftly found out, and swiftly related to her, that he was installed in an excellent and modern vicarage in one of the very finest towns of England, as well as being possessed of a comfortable competence of his own. Augusta had lived enough years in the world to know that she could hardly do better; that this might, indeed, be her last and best chance; and though she did not call herself desperate, she had already made up her mind, before she set eyes upon him for the second time, that, if he were ever to ask her to marry him, she would accept. Before this could transpire, it would be necessary for her to see him again, however; and accordingly she scanned every grouping of people with great attention, but she was unlucky. Mr. Elton was not to be seen, and she could only reassure herself with the thought that their next meeting would be at the house of Mr. Green.
Mr. Green was a very rich man, known to Mrs. Partridge, as was everyone worth knowing in Bath, because he had no aristocratic pretensions to debar him from her society: he had made his fortune in trade, and his wife had been a miller's daughter. There was no cachet in being a guest in their home, but Augusta had three distinct pieces of consolation: she would undoubtedly be the first lady in company; there would be a very fine dinner laid; and she would see Mr. Elton.
It was absolutely essential that all portions of her outfit for the important occasion should be perfect; and Augusta spent many a morning with Mrs. Partridge and her female intimates, discussing the gown, the mantle, the feathers, and the finery. On the very morning of the dinner, what was her concern to discover, in a preliminary examination of her stores, that she had not one pair of silk stockings that was without a ladder, a splash of mud, or some other imperfection. It was a small errand, such a very small one that she did not trouble to summon her confederates, or even the maid, who was hurrying to finish some sewing that would complete Augusta's costume. There was a shop where stockings could be procured, only a five minutes' walk away, and surely no elaborate preparations need be undertaken. On a drizzly morning, she was unlikely to meet with anyone she knew, in the course of such an errand, least of all Mr. Elton; and so she pulled on her common cloak and paid no special attention to her hair-dressing.
But Augusta's calculations were at fault, for as she hurried out of Drew's, a humble little parcel of stockings in her hand, she walked almost full up against that selfsame Mr. Elton. He caught her with his hand, prevented her parcel from falling, and could almost not apologize enough for the mishap.
"My dear Miss Hawkins! is it you! I am so extremely sorry. Have I hurt you with my clumsiness? Do pray tell me that I have not. I would not have injured you for the world."
Augusta assured him that she was intact, and somewhat flustered, she attempted to slip her parcel into her reticule, lest he discover what it contained.
"Oh! I have harmed your goods. Only assure me that your purchase is undamaged - allow me to restore it - shall we go into this shop and buy some more? Do permit me. Was it the glovers'? The silk merchant's?"
Augusta most sincerely begged that he would not trouble himself in the least, and gripped her reticule more firmly. "Do you - do you often come this way?" she ventured.
"No - that is, to say the truth, I have been laid up in my lodgings all this week with a slight cold, which I would not pass on to my friends for anything; but I am quite recovered again, and was actually on my way to pay a call upon you."
"Upon me!"
"Yes, Miss Hawkins, you. You cannot but be aware that you made a powerful impression on me at our meeting the other day; and in short - in short - "
Augusta summoned up the most encouraging look she knew how to bestow, but Mr. Elton did not seem to know how to proceed.
"Are you going home now? May I accompany you?" he asked helplessly.
She smiled. "Yes, certainly. It is early yet; perhaps you would care to have a dish of tea with us, before it is time to prepare for the dinner at Mr. Green's."
"The dinner at Mr. Green's! Oh, yes, by all means - I had forgot - I am to see you there tonight. Well, upon my word, that is so very..."
"Yes. I am looking forward to it I confess."
"And so am I. Exactly so. Well, Miss Hawkins, then, a lady ought not to walk home alone in all this wet; you might slip. Allow me to take your arm."
Miss Hawkins allowed it.
The Dinner at Mr Green's
The party that assembled in the Greens' drawing room was elegant in its appearance, though less so in mind, for the society there collected was g not notable for anything more than dull repartee and commonplace remarks.
Mr. Jeffereys had bought a new gun, and wanted to tell every one who would listen about its features, as it was the very latest of its kind; but his usual confidante, Mr. Bird, had determinedly affixed himself to the side of Miss Hawkins, and would not attend. Augusta had Mr. Elton on her other side, and wanted very much to continue her conversation of the morning with him; but was prevented by Mr. Bird whispering in her ear. She tried to discourage him, for every time he spoke, Mr. Elton glowered; but she had little success. Mr. Bird had hold of a fold of material of her gown, and he pulled it urgently as he went on:
"Miss Hawkins - my dear Miss Hawkins - you must listen. I tell you I have written something for you. A very particular production. It is, in fact - a poem!"
"You don't say, Mr. Bird? - " turning to Mr. Elton. "I am sorry. What were you saying to me of Highbury?"
"Highbury is a very musical society, Miss Hawkins. I am sure you would like it. I know you would. Why, Miss Woodhouse has had the best masters from London to teach her to sing and to play; Mrs. Weston is a most accomplished musician; and Mrs. Cole has been saying that she means to purchase a new pianoforte for her daughters. Could you but visit in Highbury, I know you would be delighted."
"I am sure I should. Is your vicarage quite within the town itself, then, Mr. Elton?"
Mr. Bird pulled her skirt again. "Do let me read it to you, Miss Hawkins. Only once, must you hear it from my lips; and then I shall make you a fair copy to keep. Only listen - "
She was forced to turn away from Mr. Elton, and listened in vexation, annoyed with herself for blushing angrily, as Mr. Bird read what appeared to be a half-and-half production of nonsense, partly a poem, partly an acrostic on Augusta's name:
As sweet as the nightingale,
Under the tree,
Gay as a sparrow,
perched Upon your knee;
Singing, ah singing
To me, to me!
Ah, what is he saying to thee?
How can the birdsong
As blithe as the breeze,
Waft on the elements
Kissing the trees,
In sunlight and moonlight,
Night and in morn; the
Sweetest of avians is singing our song.
"Thank you, Mr. Bird, that will quite do. I am very sensible of the honour you do me, but it is quite unnecessary to read me any more such poems."
"Ah, but you do not understand, Miss Hawkins! Have you not noticed the rhyme scheme?"
"I have noticed that I do not have a sparrow perched upon my knee, and upon my word, I don't take in your meaning. Now, Mr. Elton, you do not write poetry, I think?"
"No - certainly not. I do not like the things. A friend of mine once wrote an epigram - a charade - that I borrowed and laid before a young lady; but I was very sorry afterwards that I did, and vowed never to do so again."
"A charade! Before a young lady! That was a dangerous, a rash act, Mr. Elton. I do not dare inquire
who was this young lady. How long has she been a favourite?"
"She never was a favourite," he said quietly, "not as I feel now; and if I may say so, Miss Hawkins, my feelings have never been so engaged in my life as - as I suspect the sentiment that may be forming..."
At this interesting moment, with what annoyance did Augusta perceive Mr. Bird's half-whisper breathing into her ear again.
"Miss Hawkins, Miss Hawkins! I believe you did not perceive the meaning of my poem. It is an acrostic. Cannot you see? The first word of every line spells out your name. Augusta Hawkins! There! Do you not like it? Do you not think acrostics very clever things?"
"Insufferable puppy!" said Augusta to Mr. Elton, turning her head and speaking low. "Yes, yes, Mr. Bird - an acrostic. No, I do not think them clever: I believe acrostics are a low form of wit, like a pun."
Mr. Bird was crestfallen. "But Miss Hawkins! It is in honour to you! You do not think I could have written this to any one else, to Miss Milman for instance? You see your name - there - is felicity itself. Philadelphia Milman is far too long. It would never fit."
"I suggest that you try it, however," said Augusta, rising, in response to Mr. and Mrs. Green, who were beginning to collect the party for the procession into the dining-room.
The Party at Mrs Brown's
I told you," Mrs. Partridge announced to Augusta with satisfaction, "that I would get you married before you was any older; and here you are with two very particular beaux. You need only pick and choose, Miss Hawkins, pick and choose."
"I am very far from knowing what you mean, Mrs Partridge," Augusta answered. "I have had no offers since coming to Bath, although at Maple Grove there are several gentlemen who would be very glad for me to accept any one of their hands; only I am nice in my taste, and not to be so easily suited. To pick a partner in marriage, you know, is not the same as choosing a gown or a ribband, that you can send back again."
Mrs. Partridge and her guest were seated in her drawing room on a sleety February afternoon. No visitors could be expected in such weather; though Mrs. Jeffereys had come to sit with her mother, and the Miss Milmans had struggled through the wet and cold.
"I do hope it will clear before evening," said Miss Milman anxiously, "otherwise we will have a nasty walk in the cold and the dark, to Mrs. Brown's party. It is a great shame we have no carriage of our own."
"Why, Philly, there is always room for you in our carriage, you know very well," said Mrs. Partridge comfortably, "sure we can carry four, since Clara will go in her own. I should think Mr. Cooper would wish to drive his bride-elect, but howsoever, if he does not, you can come with us. And you need not go back to your rooms to dress, you are both fine enough for Mrs. Brown's, as you are; and I can lend you some feathers if you want to rig up a turban or some such fal-lal."
The invitation for the carriage, thus angled for, was accepted, an arrangement that had been made and carried out too often for more words to be wasted upon it. Mr. Cooper would not be going to the party; he had a sore throat, Miss Susan was at some pains to explain. She had begged him to remain at home; and she believed that she had enough influence with him, that it would be so.
"I knew we would be going to Mrs. Brown's tonight ,that is why I wore my silk velvet," said Miss Milman, "and I brought the green feathers in my basket. They are not spoiled by the wet at all. Not that it matters what I wear; the gentlemen have no eye for me as they do for Miss Hawkins. Why, at one time, do you know, I suspected that Mr. Bird was positively in love with you."
"He is indeed, and you, Philly, are quite out in the cold," agreed Miss Susan, not without some satisfaction. "Why, he is writing poems to Miss Hawkins! Is it not so, Augusta? And everybody knows that a poem is as good as a proposal."
"Well, if that is so, then we are both engaged to him," said Philadelphia with a toss of her head, "for he has written a poem to me too. An acrostic upon my name. I dare swear it is very clever, for it is much longer than yours, Miss Hawkins. He must have spent much more time on it."
"Naturally, as your name is longer, the poem would be longer," said Augusta with some irritation, "but I told him to do it, so am not surprised he made the attempt."
"And I have learnt it by heart. I can say the sweet words for ever. I shall never tire of them. Could you, yourself, if such were written to you?" And she repeated them:
Perchance your heart,
the heart I see Holds a charming place for me?
I dearly pray that I may find
Love is what you have in mind.
A little love; as by the stream
Dreaming will give way to dream:
Even as the waters flow,
Life slides by, as we all know.
Perchance the remedy for dying,
Happiness never yet expiring,
Is Love: the song that I am sighing.
And so, my loveliest, sweetest maid,
My angel, where my heart is laid,
I implore you, oh, indeed I do,
Love me, sweet, as I love you.
My heart, my hand, my wealth, my name
Are all your own, for you to claim.
Now tell me: is your heart my gain?
There was a silence when she had finished. "It does sound like a proposal," said Mrs. Partridge doubtfully, "but then why does he not follow it up by stating his terms? We have not seen him these three days."
"How can you think that any lines so sacred, could be any thing but a proposal?" said Miss Milman, with some anger.
"Heavens, that is not a proposal, it is a 'Valentine' poem, that is all," observed Mrs. Jeffereys. "Is this not the middle of February? A poem at such a time does not mean anything. Mr. Jeffereys did not propose to me in a poem, I can tell you. He proposed to me in the flesh and told me at once what my clothing allowance would be. It is much better to know than not."
"Is it not possible that he grew carried away with his compliments, as your name is so long?" asked Augusta.
"La! Miss Hawkins, I do believe you are jealous. Mr. Bird would not call my sister an angel, and sweet, and all that, if he did not love her and it was not a proposal. You are only jealous because she will be married before you, and live at that fine house in Kent."
"As to that, Mr. Bird has no fine house; the house in Kent is his brother's, and his income is so very small that he will not be able to afford to marry for many years, if ever. However, you are welcome to him," said Augusta composedly.
Miss Milman subsided in mortification and the ladies sat in what would have been an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, had they not had the diversion of slapping at Mrs. Partridge's two kittens, which had become miserably entwined in Mrs. Jeffereys' tatting.
"Oh! my lace, it will be spoilt. Mama, I told you to get rid of Euphemia, she is the most insolent cat I have ever seen, without comparison."
"My dear, insolent! It is only her claws, which will get into the tatting if you trail it upon the floor like that. It is positively dangerous. Take care! you will be scratched. Well, I declare, you are being quite cruel to poor Euphemia."
What began to resemble a quarrel between mother, daughter and cats was interrupted by the sound of a carriage that was heard in the street, pulling up before the house.
"Good heaven! somebody coming here! A gentleman, too - why, it is Mr. Elton, I do believe. In this rain! No wonder he has hired a carriage. But what is he about? Clara Miss Milman, Miss Susan, you had better come upstairs with me. We can sort out the feathers there. I am sure, Miss Milman, that Mr. Bird will like you better in a white feather: you will never win a proposal in green. Come along, come along. Take Euphemia with you, and all the tatting, that's right - Miss Susan, just pick up Sophronia, will you. We must clear the way for the two of them to be alone," she finished, in a whisper. "Oh, yes, very necessary. I am sure he has come particularly on that errand."
Despite Mrs. Partridge's good intentions, Mr. Elton was announced and in the room before the ladies could make their escape. Mrs. Partridge receive
d him with effusive welcomes, and asked if they would have the honour of seeing him at the party at Mrs. Brown's.
"Yes, indeed - to be sure - I had intended to be there. But to say the truth, I called this afternoon on an errand related to this evening. I wonder, in short, Miss Hawkins, if you would do me the favour of reserving for me the first two dances?"
Augusta assented graciously, and Mrs. Partridge made her move. "That is so very gallant of you, Mr. Elton, to come out in all this rain to ask such a question! I hope you will forgive me, therefore, if I am so rude as to - I was just on my way upstairs, to show the Miss Milmans something very particular. Will you excuse me? Will you excuse us all? I am quite ashamed - but Miss Hawkins can entertain you, to be sure."
She tweaked Miss Milman's arm, and grasped Miss Susan by the hand, so that they had no choice but to gather up kittens and fancywork and follow their hostess out of the room. Mrs. Jeffereys, with a resigned air, glided after the other ladies.
Left alone, Augusta found herself blushing. "Mrs. Partridge is very agreeable," she said, "but not always a model of the best breeding. I hope you will excuse her."
"Excuse her? I am grateful to her - I will thank her forever, if the result of this visit is what I have long hoped," exclaimed Mr. Elton, seizing her hand. He thereupon proceeded to present to her nothing less than a very earnest proposal of marriage, to which she listened with as receptive a delight as Mr. Elton himself could wish.
If our lovers were in fact a venial pair, marrying only in a spirit of self-seeking, how much worse were they than half the world? It was such a perfect case of like marrying like, that the most elevated love between two pure souls could be no more perfectly matched. With a strong mutual wish for matrimony, and for each finding a partner who could bring benefits to the other, and a determination and resolve to be bettering themselves, Mr. Elton and Miss Hawkins stood a great chance of finding as lasting a happiness as exists in this mutable world.
In as short a time as could possibly be, the matter was happily settled between them, and when Mrs. Partridge and the other ladies came back down stairs, their arms full of feathers, after a judicious quarter of an hour's absence, they had nothing to do but to set the frippery aside and give Mr. Elton and Miss Hawkins very voluble congratulations.
Mrs Elton in Amercia Page 2