Camilla here, in the midst of her chagrin, could not forbear asking him if he was married? ‘Yes, ma’am,’ answered he calmly, ‘I’ve had two wives to my share already; so I know what I’m speaking of; though I’ve buried them both. Why it was all along of my wives, what with the money I had with one, and what with the money I had with the other, that I got out of business so soon.’
‘You were very much obliged to them, then?’
‘Why, yes, ma’am, as to that, I can’t say to the contrary, now that they’re gone: but I can’t say I had much comfort with ’em while they lived. They was always a thinking they had a right to what they had a mind, because of what they brought me; so that I had enough to do to scrape a little matter together, in case of outliving them. One of ’em has not been dead above a twelvemonth, or there about; these are the first clothes I’ve bought since I left off my blacks.’
When Indiana past them, he expressed his admiration of her beauty. ‘That young lady, ma’am,’ he said, ‘cuts you all up, sure enough. She’s as fine a piece of red and white as ever I see. I could think of such a young lady as that myself, if I did not remember that I thought no more of my wife that was pretty, than of my wife that was ugly, after the first month or so. Beauty goes for a mere nothing in matrimony, when once one’s used to it. Besides, I’ve no great thoughts at present of entering into the state again of one while, at any rate, being but just got to be a little comfortable.’
The second dance was now called, when Mrs. Arlbery, coming suddenly behind Camilla, said, in a low voice, ‘Do you know who you are talking with?’
‘No, ma’am!’
‘A young tinker, my dear! that’s all!’ And, with a provoking nod, she retreated.
Camilla, half ready to laugh, half to cry, restrained herself with difficulty from running after her; and Mr. Dubster, observing that she abruptly turned away, and would listen no more, again claimed her for his partner; and, upon her absolute refusal, surprised and affronted, walked off in silence. She was then finally condemned to the morose society of Miss Margland: and invectives against Sir Hugh for mismanagement, and Lionel, with whom now that lady was at open war, for impertinence, filled up the rest of her time, till the company was informed that refreshments were served in the card-room.
Thither, immediately, every body flocked, with as much speed and avidity, as if they had learnt to appreciate the blessing of plenty, by the experience of want. Such is the vacancy of dissipated pleasure, that, never satisfied with what it possesses, an opening always remains for something yet to be tried, and, on that something still to come, all enjoyment seems to depend.
The day beginning now to clear, the sashes of a large bow-window were thrown up. Sir Sedley Clarendel sauntered thither, and instantly everybody followed, as if there were no breathing anywhere else; declaring, while they pressed upon one another almost to suffocation, that nothing was so reviving as the fresh air: and, in a minute, not a creature was to be seen in any other part of the room.
Here, in full view, stood sundry hapless relations of the poorer part of the prisoners to be tried the next morning, who, with supplicating hands and eyes, implored the compassion of the company, whom their very calamities assembled for amusement.
Nobody took any notice of them; nobody appeared even to see them: but, one by one, all glided gently away, and the bow-window was presently the only empty space in the apartment.
Camilla, contented with having already presented her mite, and Eugenia, with having given her’s in commission, retired unaffectedly with the rest; while Miss Margland, shrugging up her shoulders, and declaring there was no end of beggars, pompously added, ‘However, we gave before we came in.’
Presently, a paper was handed about, to collect half guineas for a raffle. A beautiful locket, set round with pearls, ornamented at the top with a little knot of small brilliants, and very elegantly shaped, with a space left for a braid of hair, or a cypher, was produced; and, as if by magnetic power, attracted into almost every hand the capricious coin, which distress, but the moment before had repelled.
Miss Margland lamented she had only guineas or silver, but suffered Edgar to be her paymaster; privately resolving, that, if she won the locket, she would remember the debt: Eugenia, amused in seeing the humour of all that was going forward, readily put in; Indiana, satisfied her uncle would repay the expences of the day, with a heart panting from hope of the prize, did the same; but Camilla hung back, totally unused to hazard upon what was unnecessary the little allowance she had been taught to spend sparingly upon herself, that something might be always in her power to bestow upon others. The character of this raffle was not of that interesting nature which calls forth from the affluent and easy respect as well as aid: the prize belonged to no one whom adversity compelled to change what once was an innocent luxury, into the means of subsistence; it was the mere common mode of getting rid of a mere common bauble, which no one had thought worth the full price affixed to it by its toyman. She knew not, however, till now, how hard to resist was the contagion of example, and felt a struggle in her self-denial, that made her, when she put the locket down, withdraw from the crowd, and resolve not to look at it again.
Edgar, who had observed her, read her secret conflict with an emotion which impelled him to follow her, that he might express his admiration; but he was stopt by Mrs. Arlbery, who just then hastily attacked her with, ‘What have you done with your friend the tinker, my dear?’
Camilla, laughing, though extremely ashamed, said, she knew nothing at all about him.
‘You talked with him, then, by way of experiment, to see how you might like him?’
‘No, indeed! I merely answered him when I could not help it; but still I thought, at a ball, gentlemen only would present themselves.’
‘And how many couple,’ said Mrs. Arlbery, smiling, ‘do you calculate would, in that case, stand up?’
She then ordered one of the beaux who attended her, to bring her a chair, and told another to fetch her the locket. Edgar was again advancing to Camilla, when Lionel, whose desire to obtain the good graces of Mrs. Arlbery, had suggested to him an anticipation of her commands, pushed forward with the locket.
‘Well, really, it is not ugly,’ cried she, taking it in her hand: ‘Have you put in yet, Miss Tyrold?’
‘No, ma’am.’
‘O, I am vastly glad of that; for now we will try our fortune together.’
Camilla, though secretly blushing at what she felt was an extravagance, could not withstand this invitation: she gave her half guinea.
Edgar, disappointed, retreated in silence.
The money being collected, and the names of the rafflers taken down, information was given, that the prize was to be thrown for in three days time, at one o’clock at noon, in the shop of a bookseller at Northwick.
Some of the company now departed; others prepared for a last dance. Miss Margland desired Lionel to see for their carriage; but Lionel had no greater joy than to disregard her. Indiana asked earnestly to stay longer; Miss Margland said, she could only give way to her request, upon condition her partner should be Mr. Mandlebert. It was in vain she urged that she was already engaged to Colonel Andover; Miss Margland was inexorable, and Edgar, laughing, said, he should certainly have the whole corps upon his back; but the honour was sufficient to counterbalance the risk, and he would, therefore, beg the Colonel’s patience.
‘Mr. Mandlebert,’ said Miss Margland, ‘I know enough of quarrels at balls about partners, and ladies changing their minds, to know how to act pretty well in those cases: I shall desire, therefore, to speak to the Colonel myself, and not trust two gentlemen together upon such a nice matter.’
She then beckoned to the Colonel, who stood at a little distance, and, taking him apart, told him, she flattered herself he would not be offended, if Miss Lynmere should dance again with Mr. Mandlebert, though rather out of rule, as there were particular reasons for it.
The Colonel, with a smile, said he perceived Mr. Mandl
ebert was the happy man, and acquiesced.
A general murmur now ran buzzing round the room, that Mr. Mandlebert and Miss Lynmere were publicly contracted to each other; and, amongst many who heard with displeasure that the young beauty was betrothed before she was exhibited to view, Mr. Macdersey appeared to suffer the most serious mortification.
As soon as this dance was over, Edgar conducted his ladies to an apartment below stairs, and went in search of the carriage.
He did not return for some time. Miss Margland, as usual, grumbled; but Camilla, perceiving Mrs. Arlbery, rejoiced in the delay; and stationed herself by her side, all alive in attending to the pleasantry with which she was amusing herself and those around her.
When Edgar, who seemed out of breath from running, came back, he made but short answers to the murmurs of Miss Margland; and, hastening to Camilla, said: ‘I have been with your petitioner: — she has all that can comfort her for the present; and I have learnt the name of her husband’s counsel. You will be so good as to excuse me at dinner to Sir Hugh. I shall remain here till I can judge what may be done.’
The attention of Camilla was now effectually withdrawn from Mrs. Arlbery, and the purest delight of which human feelings are susceptible, took sudden and sole possession of her youthful mind, in the idea of being instrumental to the preservation of a fellow-creature.
Edgar saw, in the change, yet brightness of her countenance, what passed within; — and his disappointment concerning the raffle was immediately forgotten.
A short consultation followed, in which both spoke with so much energy, as not only to overpower the remonstrances of Miss Margland for their departure, but to catch the notice of Mrs. Arlbery, who, coming forward, and leaning her hand on the shoulder of Camilla, said: ‘Tell me what it is that has thus animated you? Have you heard any good tidings of your new friend?’
Camilla instantly and eagerly related the subject that occupied them, without observing that the whole company around were smiling, at her earnestness in a cause of such common distress.
‘You are new, my dear,’ said Mrs. Arlbery, patting her cheek, ‘very new; but I take the whim sometimes of being charitable myself, for a little variety. It always looks pretty; and begging is no bad way of shewing off one’s powers. So give me your documents, and I’ll give you my eloquence.’
Camilla presented her the petition, and she invited Mandlebert to dine with her. Miss Margland then led the way, and the female party returned to Cleves.
CHAPTER V
A Raffle
It was late when Edgar returned to Cleves. Camilla flew to meet him. He told her everything relative to her petitioner was in the most prosperous train; he had seen the prisoner, heard the particulars of his story, which all tended to his exculpation; and Mrs. Arlbery had contrived to make acquaintance with his counsel, whom she found perfectly well disposed to exert himself in the cause, and whom she had invited to a splendid supper. The trial was to take place the next morning.
Camilla, already powerfully struck with Mrs. Arlbery, was enchanted to find her thus active in benevolence.
Edgar was to dine with that lady the next day, and to learn the event of their joint exertions.
This proved all that could be wished. The prosecution had been mild: the judge and jury had been touched with compassion; and the venial offender had been released with a gentle reprimand.
Mandlebert returned to communicate these tidings to Camilla, with a pleasure exactly in unison with her own. Mrs. Arlbery, he avowed, had been as zealous as himself; and had manifested a charity of disposition which the flightiness of her manners had not let him to expect.
The next object of attention was the raffle, which was to take place the following morning.
Sir Hugh was averse to letting his nieces go abroad again so soon: but Miss Margland, extremely anxious about her own chance for the prize, solemnly asserted its necessity; inveighed against the mismanagement of everything at Cleves, stifled all her complaints of Lionel, and pronounced a positive decision, that, to carry Indiana to public places, was the sole method of promoting the match.
Sir Hugh then, willing to believe, and yet more willing to get rid of disputing with her, no longer withheld his consent.
They were advanced within half a mile of Northwick, when a sick man, painfully supported by a woman with a child in her arms, caught their eyes. The ready hand of Eugenia was immediately in her pocket; Camilla, looking more intently upon the group, perceived another child, and presently recognised the wife of the prisoner. She called to the coachman to stop, and Edgar, at the same moment, rode up to the carriage.
Miss Margland angrily ordered the man to drive on, saying, she was quite sick of being thus for ever infested with beggars; who really came so often, they were no better than pick-pockets.
‘O, don’t refuse to let me speak to them!’ cried Camilla; ‘it will be such a pleasure to see their joy!’
‘O yes! they look in much joy indeed! they seem as if they had not eat a morsel these three weeks! Drive on, I say, coachman! I like no such melancholy sights, for my part. They always make me ill. I wonder how any body can bear them.’
‘But we may help them; we may assist them!’ said Camilla, with increasing earnestness.
‘And pray, when they have got all our money, who is to help us?’
Eugenia, delighted to give, but unhabituated to any other exertion, flung half a crown to them; and Indiana, begging to look out, said, ‘Dear! I never saw a prisoner before!’
Encouraged by an expressive look from Camilla, Edgar dismounted to hand her from the carriage, affecting not to hear the remonstrances of Miss Margland, though she scrupled not to deliver them very audibly. Eugenia languished to join them, but could not venture to disobey a direct command; and Indiana, observing the road to be very dusty, submitted, to save a pair of beautiful new shoes.
Camilla had all the gratification she promised herself, in witnessing the happiness of the poor petitioner. He was crawling to Cleves, with his family, to offer thanks. They were penniless, sick, and wretched; yet the preservation of the poor man seemed to make misery light to them all. Edgar desired to know what were their designs for the future. The man answered that he should not dare go back to his own country, because there his disgrace was known, and he should procure no work; nor, indeed, was he now able to do any. ‘So we must make up our minds to beg from door to door, and in the streets, and on the high road,’ he continued; ‘till I get back a little strength; and can earn a living more creditably.’
‘But as long as we have kept you alive, and saved you from being transported,’ said his wife, ‘for which all thanks be due to this good gentleman, we shall mind no hardships, and never go astray again, in wicked unthinkingness of this great mercy.’
Edgar inquired what had been their former occupations; they answered, they had both been day-workers in the field, till a fit of sickness had hindered the poor man from getting his livelihood: penury and hunger then pressing hard upon them all, he had been tempted to commit the offence for which he was taken, and brought to death’s door. ‘But as now,’ he added, ‘I have been saved, I shall make it a warning for the time to come, and never give myself up to so bad a course again.’
Edgar asked the woman what money she had left.
‘Ah, sir, none! for we had things to pay, and people to satisfy, and so everything you and the good ladies gave us, is all gone; for, while anything was left us, they would not be easy. But this is no great mischief now, as my husband is not taken away from us, and is come to a right sense.’
‘I believe,’ said Edgar, ‘you are very good sort of people, however distress had misguided you.’
He then put something into the man’s hand, and Eugenia, who from the carriage window heard what passed, flung him another half crown; Camilla added a shilling, and turning suddenly away, walked a few paces from them all.
Edgar, gently following, inquired if anything was the matter; her eyes were full of tears: ‘I was thi
nking,’ she cried, ‘what my dear father would have said, had he seen me giving half a guinea for a toy, and a shilling to such poor starving people as these!’
‘Why, what would he have said?’ cried Edgar, charmed with her penitence, though joining in the apprehended censure.
‘He would more than ever have pitied those who want money, in seeing it so squandered by one who should better have remembered his lessons! O, if I could but recover that half guinea!’
‘Will you give me leave to get it back for you?’
‘Leave? you would lay me under the greatest obligation! How far half a guinea would go here, in poverty such as this!’
He assured her he could regain it without difficulty; and then, telling the poor people to postpone their walk to Cleves till the evening, when Camilla meant to prepare her uncle, also, to assist them, he handed her to the coach, with feelings yet more pleased than her own, and galloped forward to execute his commission.
He was ready at the door of the library to receive them. As they alighted, Camilla eagerly cried: ‘Well! have you succeeded?’
‘Can you trust yourself to this spot, and to a review of the allurement,’ answered he, smiling, and holding half a guinea between his fingers, ‘yet be content to see your chance for the prize withdrawn?’
‘O give it me! give it me!’ cried she, almost seizing it from him, ‘my dear father will be so glad to hear I have not spent it so foolishly.’
The rafflers were not yet assembled; no one was in the shop but a well dressed elegant young man, who was reading at a table, and who neither raised his eyes at their entrance, nor suffered their discourse to interrupt his attention; yet though abstracted from outward objects, his studiousness was not of a solemn cast; he seemed wrapt in what he was reading with a pleasure amounting to ecstasy. He started, acted, smiled, and looked pensive in turn, while his features were thrown into a thousand different expressions, and his person was almost writhed with perpetually varying gestures. From time to time his rapture broke forth into loud exclamations of ‘Exquisite! exquisite!’ while he beat the leaves of the book violently with his hands, in token of applause, or lifting them up to his lips, almost devoured with kisses the passages that charmed him. Sometimes he read a few words aloud, calling out ‘Heavenly!’ and vehemently stamping his approbation with his feet; then suddenly shutting up the book, folded his arms, and casting his eyes towards the ceiling, uttered: ‘O too much! too much! there is no standing it!’ yet again, the next minute, opened it and resumed the lecture.
Complete Works of Frances Burney Page 160
