CHAPTER XI.
Young as Lady Matilda was during the life of her mother, neither heryouth, nor the recluse state in which she lived, had precluded her fromthe notice and solicitations of a nobleman who had professed himself herlover. Viscount Margrave had an estate not far distant from the retreatLady Elmwood had chosen; and being devoted to the sports of the country,he seldom quitted it for any of those joys which the town offered. Hewas a young man, of a handsome person, and was, what his neighbourscalled, "A man of spirit." He was an excellent fox-hunter, and asexcellent a companion over his bottle at the end of the chace--he wasprodigal of his fortune, where his pleasures were concerned, and asthose pleasures were chiefly social, his sporting companions and hismistresses (for these were also of the plural number) partook largely ofhis wealth.
Two months previous to Lady Elmwood's death, Miss Woodley and LadyMatilda were taking their usual walk in some fields and lanes near totheir house, when chance threw Lord Margrave in their way during athunder storm in which they were suddenly caught; and he had thesatisfaction to convey his new acquaintances to their home in his coach,safe from the fury of the elements. Grateful for the service he hadrendered them, Miss Woodley and her charge, permitted him to enquireoccasionally after their health, and would sometimes see him. The storyof Lady Elmwood was known to Lord Margrave, and as he beheld herdaughter with a passion such as he had been unused to overcome, heindulged it with the probable hope, that on the death of the mother LordElmwood would receive his child, and perhaps accept him as hisson-in-law. Wedlock was not the plan which Lord Margrave had everproposed to himself for happiness; but the excess of his love on thisnew occasion, subdued all the resolutions he had formed against themarried state; and not daring to hope for the consummation of his wishesby any other means, he suffered himself to look forward to that, as hisonly resource. No sooner was the long expected death of Lady Elmwoodarrived, than he waited with impatience to hear that Lady Matilda wassent for and acknowledged by her father; for he meant to be the first tolay before Lord Elmwood his pretensions as a suitor. But thosepretensions were founded on the vague hopes of a lover only; and MissWoodley, to whom he first declared them, said every thing possible toconvince him of their fallacy. As to the object of his passion, she wasnot only insensible, but wholly inattentive to all that was said to heron the subject. Lady Elmwood died without ever being disturbed with it;for her daughter did not even remember his proposals so as to repeatthem again, and Miss Woodley thought it prudent to conceal from herfriend, every new incident which might give her cause for new anxieties.
When Sandford and the ladies left the north and came to Elmwood House,so much were their thoughts employed with other ideas, that LordMargrave did not occupy a place; and during the whole time they had beenat their new abode, they had never once heard of him. He had,nevertheless, his whole mind fixed upon Lady Matilda, and had placedspies in the neighbourhood to inform him of every circumstance relatingto her situation. Having imbibed an aversion to matrimony, he heard withbut little regret, that there was no prospect of her ever becoming herfather's heir, while such an information gave him the hope of obtainingher, upon the terms of a mistress.
Lord Elmwood's departure to town forwarded this hope, and flatteringhimself that the humiliating state in which Matilda must feel herself inthe house of her father might gladly induce her to take shelter underany other protection, he boldly advanced as soon as the Earl was gone,to make such overture as his wishes and his vanity told him, could notbe rejected.
Inquiring for Miss Woodley, he easily gained admittance; but at thesight of so much modesty and dignity in the person of Matilda, theappearance of so much good will, and yet such circumspection in hercompanion; and charmed at the good sense and proper spirit which werealways apparent in the manners of Sandford, he fell once more into thedespondency of never becoming to Lady Matilda any thing of moreimportance to his reputation, than a husband.
Even that humble hope was sometimes denied him, while Sandford set forththe impropriety of troubling Lord Elmwood on such a subject at present;and while the Viscount's penetration, small as it was, discovered in hisfair one, more to discourage, than to favour his wishes. Plunged,however, too deep in his passion to emerge from it in haste, he meantstill to visit, and wait for a change to happier circumstances, when hewas peremptorily desired by Mr. Sandford to desist from ever comingagain.
"And why, Mr. Sandford?" cried he.
"For two reasons, my Lord;--in the first place, your visits might bedispleasing to Lord Elmwood; in the next place, I know they are so tohis daughter."
Unaccustomed to be addressed so plainly, particularly in a case wherehis heart was interested, he nevertheless submitted with patience; butin his own mind determined how long this patience should continue--nolonger than it served as the means to prove his obedience, and by thatartifice, to secure his better reception at some future period.
On his return home, cheered with the huzzas of his jovial companions, hebegan to consult those friends, what scheme was best to be adopted forthe accomplishment of his desires. Some, boldly advised application tothe father in defiance to the old priest; but that was the very lastmethod his Lordship himself approved, as marriage must inevitably havefollowed Lord Elmwood's consent: besides, though a Peer, Lord Margravewas unused to rank with Peers; and even the formality of an interviewwith one of his equals, carried along with it a terror, or at least afatigue, to a rustic Baron. Others of his companions advised seduction;but happily the Viscount possessed no arts of this kind, to affect aheart joined with such an understanding as Matilda's. There were notwanting among his most favourite counsellors some, who painted thesuperior triumph and gratification of force; those assured him there wasnothing to apprehend under this head, as from the behaviour of LordElmwood to his child, it was more than probable, he would be utterlyindifferent as to any violence that might be offered her. This lastadvice seemed inspired by the aid of wine; and no sooner had the winefreely circulated, than this was always the expedient, which appeared byfar the best.
While Lord Margrave alternately cherished his hopes and his fears in thecountry, Rushbrook in town gave way to his fears only. Every day of hislife made him more acquainted with the firm, unshaken temper of LordElmwood, and every day whispered more forcibly to him, that pity,gratitude, and friendship, strong and affectionate as these passionsare, were weak and cold to that, which had gained the possession of hisheart--he doubted, but he did not long doubt, that, which he felt waslove. "And yet," said he to himself, "it is love of such a kind, asarising from causes independent of the object itself can scarce deservethat sacred name. Did I not love Lady Matilda before I beheld her?--forher mother's sake I loved her--and even for her father's. Should I havefelt the same affection for her, had she been the child of otherparents? No. Or should I have felt that sympathetic tenderness which nowpreys upon my health, had not her misfortunes excited it? No." Yet thelove which is the result of gratitude and pity only, he thought hadlittle claim to rank with his; and after the most deliberate and deepreflection, he concluded with this decisive opinion--He had loved LadyMatilda, in _whatever state_, in _whatever circumstances_; and that thetenderness he felt towards her, and the anxiety for her happiness beforehe knew her, extreme as they were, were yet cool and dispassionatesensations, compared to those which her person and demeanour hadincited--and though he acknowledged, that by the preceding sentiments,his heart was softened, prepared, and moulded, as it were, to receivethis last impression, yet the violence of his passion told him thatgenuine love, if not the basis on which it was founded, had been thecertain consequence. With a strict scrutiny into his heart he soughtthis knowledge, but arrived at it with a regret that amounted todespair.
To shield him from despondency, he formed in his mind a thousandvisions, displaying the joys of his union with Lady Matilda; but herfather's implacability confounded them all. Lord Elmwood was a man whomade few resolutions--but those were the effect of deliberation; and ashe was not the least capricious
or inconstant in his temper, they wereresolutions which no probable event could shake. Love, that produceswonders, that seduces and subdues the most determined and rigid spirits,had in two instances overcome the inflexibility of Lord Elmwood; hemarried Lady Elmwood contrary to his determination, because he loved;and for the sake of this beloved object, he had, contrary to hisresolution, taken under his immediate care young Rushbrook; but themagic which once enchanted away this spirit of immutability was nomore--Lady Elmwood was no more, and the charm was broken.
As Miss Woodley was deprived of the opportunity of desiring Rushbrooknot to write, when he asked her the permission, he passed one wholemorning, in the gratification of forming and writing a letter to her,which he thought might possibly be shewn to Matilda. As he dared nottouch upon any of those circumstances in which he was the mostinterested, this, joined to the respect he wished to pay the lady towhom he wrote, limited his letter to about twenty lines; yet thestudious manner with which these lines were dictated, the hope that theymight, and the fear that they might not, be seen and regarded by LadyMatilda, rendered the task an anxiety so pleasing, that he could havewished it might have lasted for a year; and in this tendency to magnifytrifles, was discoverable, the never-failing symptom of ardent love.
A reply to this formal address, was a reward he wished for withimpatience, but he wished in vain; and in the midst of his chagrin atthe disappointment, a sorrow, little thought of, occurred, and gave hima perturbation of mind he had never before experienced. Lord Elmwoodproposed a wife to him; and in a way so assured of his acquiescence,that if Rushbrook's life had depended upon his daring to dispute hisbenefactor's will, he would not have had the courage to have done so.There was, however, in his reply, and his embarrassment, something whichhis uncle distinguished from a free concurrence; and looking stedfastlyat him, he said, in that stern manner which he now almost invariablyadopted,
"You have no engagements, I suppose! Have made no previous promises!"
"None on earth, my Lord," replied Rushbrook candidly.
"Nor have you disposed of your heart?"
"No, my Lord," replied he; but not candidly--nor with any appearance ofcandour: for though he spoke hastily, it was rather like a manfrightened than assured. He hurried to tell the falsehood he thoughthimself obliged to tell, that the pain and shame might be over; butthere he was deceived--the lie once told was as troublesome as in theconception, and added another confusion to the first.
Lord Elmwood now fixed his eyes upon him with a sullen contempt, andrising from his chair, said, "Rushbrook, if you have been soinconsiderate as to give away your heart, tell me so at once, and tellme the object."
Rushbrook shuddered at the thought.
"I here," continued the Earl, "tolerate the first untruth you ever toldme, as the false assertion of a lover; and give you an opportunity ofrecalling it--but after this moment, it is a lie between man and man--alie to your friend and father, and I will not forgive it."
Rushbrook stood silent, confused, alarmed, and bewildered in histhoughts. Lord Elmwood proceeded:
"Name the person, if there is any, on whom you have bestowed your heart;and though I do not give you the hope that I shall not censure yourfolly, I will at least not reproach you for having at first denied it."
To repeat these words in writing, the reader must condemn the young manthat he could hesitate to own he loved, if he was even afraid to namethe object of his passion; but his interrogator had made the two answersinseparable, so that all evasions of the second, Rushbrook knew would befruitless, after having avowed the first--and how could he confess thelatter? The absolute orders he received from the steward on his firstreturn from his travels, were, "Never to mention his daughter, any morethan his late wife, before Lord Elmwood." The fault of having rudelyintruded into Lady Matilda's presence, rushed also upon his mind; for hedid not even dare to say, by what means he had beheld her. But more thanall, the threatening manner in which this rational and apparentlyconciliating speech was uttered, the menaces, the severity which satupon the Earl's countenance while he delivered those moderate words,might have intimidated a man wholly independent, and less used to fearthan his nephew had been.
"You make no answer, Sir," said Lord Elmwood, after waiting a fewmoments for his reply.
"I have only to say, my Lord," returned Rushbrook, "that although myheart may be totally disengaged, I may yet be disinclined to marriage."
"May! May! Your heart _may_ be disengaged," repeated he. "Do you dare toreply to me equivocally, when I have asked a positive answer?"
"Perhaps I am not positive myself, my Lord; but I will enquire into thestate of my mind, and make you acquainted with it very soon."
As the angry demeanour of his uncle affected Rushbrook with fear, sothat fear, powerfully (but with proper manliness) expressed, againsoftened the displeasure of Lord Elmwood; and seeing and pitying hisnephew's sensibility, he now changed his austere voice, and said mildly,but firmly,
"I give you a week to consult with yourself; at the expiration of thattime I shall talk with you again, and I command you to be then preparedto speak, not only without deceit, but without hesitation." He left theroom at these words, and left Rushbrook released from a fate, which hisapprehensions had beheld impending that moment.
He had now a week to call his thoughts together, to weigh everycircumstance, and to determine whether implicitly to submit to LordElmwood's recommendation of a wife, or to revolt from it, and seeanother, with more subserviency to his will, appointed his heir.
Undetermined how to act upon this trial which was to decide his futuredestiny, Rushbrook suffered so poignant an uncertainty, that he becameat length ill, and before the end of the week that was allotted him forhis reply, he was confined to his bed in a high fever. Lord Elmwood wasextremely affected at his indisposition; he gave him every care he couldbestow, and even much of his personal attendance. This last favour had aclaim upon the young man's gratitude, superior to every other obligationwhich since his infancy his benefactor had conferred; and he was attimes so moved by those marks of kindness he received, that he wouldform the intention of tearing from his heart every trace that LadyMatilda had left there, and as soon as his health would permit him,obey, to the utmost of his views, every wish his uncle had conceived.Yet again, her pitiable situation presented itself to his compassion,and her beauteous person to his love. Divided between the claims ofobligation to the father, and tender attachment to the daughter, hisillness was increased by the tortures of his mind, and he once sincerelywished for that death, of which he was in danger, to free him from thedilemma in which his affections had involved him.
At the time his disorder was at the height, and he lay complaining ofthe violence of his fever, Lord Elmwood, taking his hand, asked him, "Ifthere was any thing he could do for him?"
"Yes, yes, my Lord, a great deal:" he replied eagerly.
"What is it, Harry?"
"Oh! my Lord," replied he, "that is what I must not tell you."
"Defer it then till you are well:" said Lord Elmwood; afraid of beingsurprised, or affected by the state of his health, into any promiseswhich he might hereafter find the impropriety of granting.
"And when I recover, my Lord, you give me leave to reveal to you mywishes, let them be what they will?"
His uncle hesitated----but seeing an anxiety for the answer, by hisraising himself upon his elbow in the bed and staring wildly, LordElmwood at last said, "Certainly--Yes, yes," as a child is answered forits quiet.
That Lord Elmwood could have no idea what the real petition was, whichRushbrook meant to present him is certain; but it is certain he expectedhe had some request to make, with which it might be wrong for him tocomply, and therefore he avoided hearing what it was; for great as hiscompassion for him was in his present state, it was not of sufficientforce to urge him to give a promise he did not mean to perform.Rushbrook, on his part was pleased with the assurance he might speakwhen he was restored to health; but no sooner was his fever abated, andhis sens
es perfectly recovered from the slight derangement his maladyhad occasioned, than the lively remembrance of what he had hinted,alarmed him, and he was even afraid to look his kind, but awful relationin the face. Lord Elmwood's cheerfulness, however, on his returninghealth, and his undiminished attention, soon convinced him that he hadnothing to fear. But, alas! he found too, that he had nothing to hope.As his health re-established, his wishes re-established also, and withhis wishes, his despair.
Convinced now, that his nephew had something on his mind which he fearedto reveal, the Earl no longer doubted but that some youthful attachmenthad armed him against any marriage he should propose; but he had so muchpity for his present weak state, to delay that further inquiry which hehad threatened before his illness, to a time when he should be entirelyrestored.
It was the end of May before Rushbrook was able to partake in the usualroutine of the day--the country was now prescribed him as the means ofcomplete restoration; and as Lord Elmwood designed to leave London sometime in June, he advised him to go to Elmwood House a week or two beforehim; this advice was received with delight, and a letter was sent to Mr.Sandford to prepare for Mr. Rushbrook's arrival.
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