Jacob now was called upon to give a narrative of the day’s adventures. ‘Why, your Honour,’ said he, ‘as soon as we come to the Grove, I goes up to the coach door, to ask the Doctor if he would get out, or only send in to let the young ladies know he was come for them; but he was got so deep into some of his larning, that, I dare say, I bawled it three good times in his ears, before he so much as lifted up his head; and then it was only to say, I put him out! and to it he went again, just as if I’d said never a word; till, at last, I was so plaguy mad, I gives the coach such a jog, to bring him to himself like, that it jerked the pencil and paper out of his hand. So then he went straight into one of his takings, pretending I had made him forget all his thoughts, and such like out of the way talk, after his old way. So when I found he was going off in that manner, I thought it only time lost to say no more to him, and so I turned me about not to mind him; when I sees a whole heap of company at a parlour window, laughing so hearty, that I was sure they had heard us. And a fine comely lady, as clever as ever you see, that I found after was the lady of the house, bid me come to the window, and asked what I wanted. So I told her we was come for two of the Miss Tyrolds. Why, says she, they’ve been gone a quarter of an hour, by the opposite road. So then I was coming away, but she made me a sign to come into the parlour, for all it was brimful of fine company, dressed all like I don’t know what. It was as pretty a sight as you’d wish to see. And then, your honour, they all begun upon me at once! there was such a clatter, I thought I’d been turned into a booth at a fair; and merry enough they all was sure!— ‘specially the lady, who never opened her lips, but what they all laughed: but as to all what they asked me, I could as soon conjure a ghost as call a quarter of it to mind.’
‘Try, however,’ said Edgar, curious for further information of whatever related to Mrs. Arlbery.
‘Why as to that, ‘squire,’ answered Jacob, with an arch look, ‘I am not so sure and certain you’d like to hear it all.’
‘No? and why not?’
‘O! pray tell, Jacob,’ cried Miss Margland; ‘did they say anything of Mr. Mandlebert?’
‘Yes, and of more than Mr. Mandlebert,’ said Jacob, grinning.
‘Do tell, do tell,’ cried Indiana, eagerly.
‘I’m afeard, Miss!’
Every body assured him no offence should be taken.
‘Well, then, if you must needs know, there was not one of you, but what they had a pluck at. — Pray, says one of them, what does the old gentleman do with all those books and papers in the coach? — That’s what nobody knows, says I, unless his head’s cracked, which is Mary’s opinion. — Then they all laughed more and more, and the lady of the house said: — Pray can he really read? — Whoo! says I, why he does nothing else; he’s at it from morning till night, and Mary says she’s sure before long he’ll give up his meat and drink for it. — I’ve always heard he was a quiz, says another, or a quoz, or some such word; but I did not know he was such a book-worm. — The old quoz is generous, however, I hear, says another, pray do you find him so? — As to that, I can’t say, says I, for I never see the colour of his money. — No! then, what are you such a fool as to serve him for? — So, then, your honour, I found, owing to the coach and the arms, and the like, they thought all the time it was your honour was in the coach. I hope your honour don’t take it amiss of me?’
‘Not at all Jacob; only I don’t know why they call me an old quiz and quoz for; never having offended them; which I take rather unkind; especially not knowing what it means.’
‘Why, your honour, they’re such comical sort of folks; they don’t mind what they say of nobody. Not but what the lady of the house is a rare gentlewoman. Your honour could not help liking her. I warrant she’s made many a man’s heart ache, and then jumped for joy when she’d done. And as to her eyes, I think in my born days I never see nothing like ‘em: they shines like two candles on a dark night afar off on the common —— .’
‘Why Jacob,’ said Sir Hugh, ‘I see you have lost your heart. However, go on.’
‘Why, as soon as I found out what they meant — That my master? says I, no, God be thanked! What should I have to live upon if a was? Not so much as a cobweb! for there would not be wherewithal for a spider to make it.’
Here Sir Hugh, with much displeasure, interrupted him; ‘As to the poor gentleman’s being poor,’ said he, ‘it’s no fault of his own, for he’d be rich if he could, I make no doubt; never having heard he was a gambler. Besides which, I always respect a man the more for being poor, knowing how little a rich man may have in him; which I can judge by my own case.’
Jacob proceeded.
‘Well, if it is not Sir Hugh, says one of them, who is it? — Why, it’s only our Latin master, says I; upon which they all set up as jolly a laugh again as ever I heard in my days. Jobbins, they’re pure merry! — And who learns Latin! says one, I hope they don’t let him work at poor old Sir Hugh? No, says I, they tried their hands with him at first, but he thanked ’em for nothing. He soon grew tired on’t. — So then they said, who learns now, says they, do you? — Me! says I, no, God be praised, I don’t know A from B, which is the way my head’s so clear, never having muddled it with what I don’t understand. — And so then they all said I was a brave fellow; and they ordered me a glass of wine.’
What a set! thought Edgar, is this, idle, dissipated, curious — for Camilla to associate with! — the lively, the unthinking, the inexperienced Camilla!
‘So then they asked me, says they, does Miss Lynmere learn, says they? — Not, as I know of, says I, she’s no great turn for her book, as ever I heard of; which I hope Miss you won’t take ill, for they all said, no, to be sure, she’s too handsome for that.’
Indiana looked uncertain whether to be flattered or offended.
‘But you have not told us what they said of Mr. Mandlebert yet?’ cried Miss Margland.
‘No, I must come to you first, Miss,’ answered he, ‘for that’s what they come upon next. But mayhap I must not tell?’
‘O yes, you may;’ said she, growing a little apprehensive of some affront, but determined not to seem hurt by it; ‘I am very indifferent to any thing they can say of me, assure yourself!’
‘Why, I suppose, says they, this Latin master studies chiefly with the governess? — They’d study fisty-cuffs I believe, if they did, says I, for she hates him like poison; and there’s no great love lost between them.’
‘And what right had you to say that, Mr. Jacob? I did not ask what you said. Not that I care, I promise you!’
‘Why, some how, they got it all out; they were so merry and so full of their fun, I could not be behind hand. But I hope no offence?’
‘O dear no! I’m sure it’s not worth while.’
‘They said worse than I did,’ resumed Jacob, ‘by a deal; they said, says they, she looks duced crabbed — she looks just as if she was always eating a sour apple, says the lady; she looks—’
‘Well, well, I don’t want to hear any more of their opinions. I may look as I please I hope. I hate such gossiping.’
‘So then they said, pray does Miss Camilla learn? says they; — Lord love her, no! says I.’
‘And what said they to that?’ cried Edgar.
‘Why, they said, they hoped not, and they were glad to hear it, for they liked her the best of all. And what does the ugly one do? says they.—’
‘Come, we have heard enough now,’ interrupted Edgar, greatly shocked for poor Eugenia, who fortunately, however, had retired with Camilla.
Sir Hugh too, angrily broke in upon him, saying: ‘I won’t have my niece called ugly, Jacob! you know it’s against my commands such a thing’s being mentioned.’
‘Why, I told ’em so, sir,’ said Jacob; ‘ugly one, says I, she you call the ugly one, is one of the best ladies in the land. She’s ready to lend a hand to every mortal soul; she’s just like my master for that. And as to learning, I make no quæry she can talk you over the Latin grammar as fast as e’er a gentleman h
ere. So then they laughed harder than ever, and said they should be afeard to speak to her, and a deal more I can’t call to mind. — So then they come to Mr. Mandlebert. Pray, says they, what’s he doing among you all this time? — Why, nothing particular, says I, he’s only squiring about our young ladies. — But when is this wedding to be? says another. So then I said—’
‘What did you say?’ cried Edgar hastily.
‘Why — nothing,’ answered Jacob, drawing back.
‘Tell us, however, what they said,’ cried Miss Margland.
‘Why, they said, says they, everything has been ready some time at Beech Park; — and they’ll make as handsome a couple as ever was seen.’
‘What stuff is this!’ cried Edgar, ‘do prithee have done.’ —
‘No, no,’ said Miss Margland; ‘go on, Jacob!’
Indiana, conscious and glowing at the words handsome couple, could not restrain a simper; but Edgar, thinking only of Camilla, did not understand it.
‘He’ll have trouble enough, says one of the gentlemen,’ continued Jacob, ‘to take care of so pretty a wife. — She’ll be worth a little trouble, says another, for I think she is the most beautifullest girl I ever see — Take my word of it, says the lady of the house, young Mandlebert is a man who won’t be made a fool of; he’ll have his own way, for all her beauty.’
‘What a character to give of me to young ladies!’ cried Edgar, doubtful, in his turn, whether to be hurt or gratified.
‘O she did not stop at that, sir,’ resumed Jacob, ‘for she said, I make no question, says she, but in half a year he’ll lock her up.’
Indiana, surprized, gave an involuntary little shriek: but Edgar, not imputing it to any appropriate alarm, was filled with resentment against Mrs. Arlbery. What incomprehensible injustice! he said to himself: O Camilla! is it possible any event, any circumstance upon earth, could induce me to practise such an outrage? to degenerate into such a savage?
‘Is this all?’ asked Miss Margland.
‘No, ma’am; but I don’t know if Miss will like to hear the rest.’
‘O yes,’ said Indiana, ‘if it’s about me, I don’t mind.’
‘Why, they all said, Miss, you’d make the most finest bride that ever was seen, and they did not wonder at Mr. Mandlebert’s chusing you; but for all that — .’
He stopt, and Edgar, who, following the bent of his own thoughts, had till now concluded Camilla to be meant, was utterly confounded by discovering his mistake. The presence of Indiana redoubled the awkwardness of the situation, and her blushes, and the increased lustre of her eyes, did not make the report seem either unwelcome, or perfectly new to her.
Miss Margland raised her head triumphantly. This was precisely such a circumstance as she flattered herself would prove decisive.
The Baronet, equally pleased, returned her nod of congratulation, and nodding himself towards Edgar, said; ‘you’re blown, you see! but what matters secrets about nothing? which, Lord help me, I never knew how to keep.’
Edgar was now still more disconcerted, and, from mere distress what to say or do, bid Jacob go on.
‘Why then, they said a deal more, how pretty she was, he continued, but they did not know how it would turn out, for the young lady was so much admired, that her husband had need look sharp after her; and if—’
‘What complete impertinence!’ cried Edgar, walking about the room; ‘I really can listen no longer.’
‘If he had done wisely, says the lady of the house, he would have left the professed beauty, and taken that pretty Camilla.’
Edgar surprized, stopt short; this seemed to him less impertinent.
‘Camilla is a charming creature, says she; though she may want a little watching too; but so does every thing that is worth having.’
That woman does not want discernment, thought Edgar, nor she does not want taste. — I can never totally dislike her, if she does such justice to Camilla.
He now again invited Jacob to proceed; but Indiana, with a pouting lip, walked out of the room, and Miss Margland said, there was not need to be hearing him all night.
Jacob, therefore, when no more either interrupted or encouraged, soon finished his narrative. Mrs. Arlbery, amused by watching Dr. Orkborne, had insisted, for an experiment, that Jacob should not return to the coach till he was missed and called for; and so intense was the application of the Doctor to what he was composing, that this did not happen till the whole family had dined; Jacob and the coachman, at the invitation of Mrs. Arlbery, having partaken of the servants’ fare, equally pleased with the regale and the joke. Dr. Orkborne then, suddenly recollecting himself, demanded why the young ladies were so late, and was much discomposed and astonished when he heard they were gone. Mrs. Arlbery invited him into the house, and offered him refreshments, while she ordered water and a feed of corn for the horses; but he only fretted a little, and then went on again with his studies.
Sir Hugh now sent some cold dinner into the Doctor’s room, and declared he should always approve his niece’s acquaintance with Mrs. Arlbery, as she was so kind to his servants and his animals.
CHAPTER VI
An Author’s Idea of Order
Not a bosom of the Cleves party enjoyed much tranquillity this evening. Miss Margland, though to the Baronet she would not recede from her first assertions, strove vainly to palliate to herself the ill grace and evident dissatisfaction with which Edgar had met the report. To save her own credit, however, was always her primary consideration; she resolved, therefore, to cast upon unfair play in Camilla, or upon the instability of Edgar, all the blame really due to her own undiscerning self-sufficiency.
Indiana thought so little for herself, that she adopted, of course, every opinion of Miss Margland; yet the immoveable coldness of Edgar, contrasted frequently in her remembrance by the fervour of Melmond and of Macdersey, became more and more distasteful to her; and Mrs. Arlbery’s idea, that she should be locked up in half a year, made her look upon him alternately as something to shun or to over-reach. She even wished to refuse him: — but Beech Park, the equipage, the servants, the bridal habiliment. — No! she could enjoy those, if not him. And neither her own feelings, nor the lessons of Miss Margland, had taught her to look upon marriage in any nobler point of view.
But the person most deeply dissatisfied this evening was Edgar. He now saw that, deceived by his own consciousness, he had misunderstood Mrs. Needham, who, as well as Mrs. Arlbery, he was convinced concluded him engaged to Indiana. He had observed with concern the approving credulity of Sir Hugh, and though glad to find his real plan, and all his wishes unsuspected, the false report excited his fears, lest Indiana should give it any credit, and secretly hurt his delicacy for the honour of his taste.
All the influence of pecuniary motives to which he deemed Camilla superior, occurred to him in the very words of Dr. Marchmont for Indiana; whose capacity he saw was as shallow as her person was beautiful. Yet the admiration with which she had already made her first appearance in the world, might naturally induce her belief of his reported devotion. If, therefore, his situation appeared to her to be eligible, she had probably settled to accept him.
The most timid female delicacy was not more scrupulous, than the manly honour of Edgar to avoid this species of misapprehension; and though perfectly confident his behaviour had been as irreproachable as it was undesigning, the least idea of any self-delusion on the part of Indiana, seemed a call upon his integrity for the most unequivocal manifestation of his intentions. Yet any declaration by words, with whatever care selected, might be construed into an implication that he concluded the decision in his own hands. And though he could scarcely doubt the fact, he justly held nothing so offensive as the palpable presumption. One only line of conduct appeared to him, therefore, unexceptionable; which was wholly to avoid her, till the rumour sunk into its own nothingness.
This demanded from him a sacrifice the most painful, that of retiring from Cleves in utter ignorance of the sentiments of Camilla; yet it
seemed the more necessary, since he now, with much uneasiness, recollected many circumstances which his absorbed mind had hitherto suffered to pass unnoticed, that led him to fear Sir Hugh himself, and the whole party, entertained the same notion.
He was shocked to consider Camilla involved in such a deception, though delighted by the idea he might perhaps owe to an explanation, some marks of that preference for which Dr. Marchmont had taught him to wait, and which he now hoped might lie dormant from the persuasion of his engagement. To clear this mistake was, therefore, every way essential, as otherwise the very purity of her character must be in his disfavour.
Still, however, the visit to the Grove hung upon his mind, and he resolved to investigate its cause the following morning, before he made his retreat.
Early the next day, Camilla sent to hasten the chaise which was to fetch Mr. Tyrold, and begged leave of her uncle to breakfast at Etherington. His assent was always ready; and believing every evil would yield to absence, she eagerly, and even with happiness set off.
When the rest of the party assembled without her, Edgar, surprised, enquired if she were well? Miss Margland answered yes; but for the sake of what she loved best in the world, a frolic, she was gone in the chaise to Etherington. Edgar could not prevail with himself to depart till he had spoken with her, and privately deferred his purposed leave-taking till noon.
During this report, Sir Hugh was anxiously engaged in some business he seemed to wish to conceal. He spoke little, but nodded frequently to himself, with an air of approving his own ideas; he summoned Jacob to him repeatedly, with whom he held various whispering conferences; and desired Miss Margland, who made the tea, not to pour it out too fast, as he was in no hurry to have breakfast over.
When nothing he could urge succeeded, in making any of the company eat or drink any thing more, he pulled Edgar by the sleeve; and, in an eager but low voice, said, ‘My dear Mr. Edgar, I have a great favour to beg of you, which is only that you will do something to divert Dr. Orkborne.’
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