by Walter Scott
CHAPTER XXIX All school day's friendship childhood innocence' We Hermia like two artificial gods Have with our needles created both one flower, Both on one sampler sitting on one cushion, Both warbling of one song both in one key As if our hands our sides, voices and minds Had been incorporate
A Midsummer Night's Dream
JULIA MANNERING TO MATILDA MARCHMONT
'How can you upbraid me, my dearest Matilda, with abatement in friendshipor fluctuation in affection? Is it possible for me to forget that you arethe chosen of my heart, in whose faithful bosom I have deposited everyfeeling which your poor Julia dares to acknowledge to herself? And you dome equal injustice in upbraiding me with exchanging your friendship forthat of Lucy Bertram. I assure you she has not the materials I must seekfor in a bosom confidante. She is a charming girl, to be sure, and I likeher very much, and I confess our forenoon and evening engagements haveleft me less time for the exercise of my pen than our proposed regularityof correspondence demands. But she is totally devoid of elegantaccomplishments, excepting the knowledge of French and Italian, which sheacquired from the most grotesque monster you ever beheld, whom my fatherhas engaged as a kind of librarian, and whom he patronises, I believe, toshow his defiance of the world's opinion. Colonel Mannering seems to haveformed a determination that nothing shall be considered as ridiculous solong as it appertains to or is connected with him. I remember in India hehad picked up somewhere a little mongrel cur, with bandy legs, a longback, and huge flapping ears. Of this uncouth creature he chose to make afavourite, in despite of all taste and opinion; and I remember oneinstance which he alleged, of what he called Brown's petulance, was, thathe had criticised severely the crooked legs and drooping ears of Bingo.On my word, Matilda, I believe he nurses his high opinion of this mostawkward of all pedants upon a similar principle. He seats the creature attable, where he pronounces a grace that sounds like the scream of the manin the square that used to cry mackerel, flings his meat down his throatby shovelfuls, like a dustman loading his cart, and apparently withoutthe most distant perception of what he is swallowing, then bleats forthanother unnatural set of tones by way of returning thanks, stalks out ofthe room, and immerses himself among a parcel of huge worm-eaten foliosthat are as uncouth as himself! I could endure the creature well enoughhad I anybody to laugh at him along with me; but Lucy Bertram, if I butverge on the border of a jest affecting this same Mr. Sampson (such isthe horrid man's horrid name), looks so piteous that it deprives me ofall spirit to proceed, and my father knits his brow, flashes fire fromhis eye, bites his lip, and says something that is extremely rude anduncomfortable to my feelings.
'It was not of this creature, however, that I meant to speak to you, onlythat, being a good scholar in the modern as well as the ancientlanguages, he has contrived to make Lucy Bertram mistress of the former,and she has only, I believe, to thank her own good sense, or obstinacy,that the Greek, Latin (and Hebrew, for aught I know), were not added toher acquisitions. And thus she really has a great fund of information,and I assure you I am daily surprised at the power which she seems topossess of amusing herself by recalling and arranging the subjects of herformer reading. We read together every morning, and I begin to likeItalian much better than when we were teased by that conceited animalCicipici. This is the way to spell his name, and not Chichipichi; you seeI grow a connoisseur.
'But perhaps I like Miss Bertram more for the accomplishments she wantsthan for the knowledge she possesses. She knows nothing of musicwhatever, and no more of dancing than is here common to the meanestpeasants, who, by the way, dance with great zeal and spirit. So that I aminstructor in my turn, and she takes with great gratitude lessons from meupon the harpsichord; and I have even taught her some of La Pique'ssteps, and you know he thought me a promising scholar.
'In the evening papa often reads, and I assure you he is the best readerof poetry you ever heard; not like that actor who made a kind of jumblebetween reading and acting,--staring, and bending his brow, and twistinghis face, and gesticulating as if he were on the stage and dressed out inall his costume. My father's manner is quite different; it is the readingof a gentleman, who produces effect by feeling, taste, and inflection ofvoice, not by action or mummery. Lucy Bertram rides remarkably well, andI can now accompany her on horseback, having become emboldened byexample. We walk also a good deal in spite of the cold. So, upon thewhole, I have not quite so much time for writing as I used to have.
'Besides, my love, I must really use the apology of all stupidcorrespondents, that I have nothing to say. My hopes, my fears, myanxieties about Brown are of a less interesting cast since I know that heis at liberty and in health. Besides, I must own I think that by thistime the gentleman might have given me some intimation what he was doing.Our intercourse may be an imprudent one, but it is not very complimentaryto me that Mr. Vanbeest Brown should be the first to discover that suchis the case, and to break off in consequence. I can promise him that wemight not differ much in opinion should that happen to be his, for I havesometimes thought I have behaved extremely foolishly in that matter. YetI have so good an opinion of poor Brown, that I cannot but think there issomething extraordinary in his silence.
'To return to Lucy Bertram. No, my dearest Matilda, she can never, neverrival you in my regard, so that all your affectionate jealousy on thataccount is without foundation. She is, to be sure, a very pretty, a verysensible, a very affectionate girl, and I think there are few persons towhose consolatory friendship I could have recourse more freely in whatare called the real evils of life. But then these so seldom come in one'sway, and one wants a friend who will sympathise with distresses ofsentiment as well as with actual misfortune. Heaven knows, and you know,my dearest Matilda, that these diseases of the heart require the balm ofsympathy and affection as much as the evils of a more obvious anddeterminate character. Now Lucy Bertram has nothing of this kindlysympathy, nothing at all, my dearest Matilda. Were I sick of a fever, shewould sit up night after night to nurse me with the most unrepiningpatience; but with the fever of the heart, which my Matilda has soothedso often, she has no more sympathy than her old tutor. And yet whatprovokes me is, that the demure monkey actually has a lover of her own,and that their mutual affection (for mutual I take it to be) has a greatdeal of complicated and romantic interest. She was once, you must know, agreat heiress, but was ruined by the prodigality of her father and thevillainy of a horrid man in whom he confided. And one of the handsomestyoung gentlemen in the country is attached to her; but, as he is heir toa great estate, she discourages his addresses on account of thedisproportion of their fortune.
'But with all this moderation, and self-denial, and modesty, and soforth, Lucy is a sly girl. I am sure she loves young Hazlewood, and I amsure he has some guess of that, and would probably bring her toacknowledge it too if my father or she would allow him an opportunity.But you must know the Colonel is always himself in the way to pay MissBertram those attentions which afford the best indirect opportunities fora young gentleman in Hazlewood's situation. I would have my good papatake care that he does not himself pay the usual penalty of meddlingfolks. I assure you, if I were Hazlewood I should look on hiscompliments, his bowings, his cloakings, his shawlings, and his handingswith some little suspicion; and truly I think Hazlewood does so too atsome odd times. Then imagine what a silly figure your poor Julia makes onsuch occasions! Here is my father making the agreeable to my friend;there is young Hazlewood watching every word of her lips, and everymotion of her eye; and I have not the poor satisfaction of interesting ahuman being, not even the exotic monster of a parson, for even he sitswith his mouth open, and his huge round goggling eyes fixed like those ofa statue, admiring Mess Baartram!
'All this makes me sometimes a little nervous, and sometimes a littlemischievous. I was so provoked at my father and the lovers the other dayfor turning me completely out of their thoughts and society, that I beganan attack upon Hazlewood, from which it was impossible for him, in commoncivility, to esc
ape. He insensibly became warm in his defence,--I assureyou, Matilda, he is a very clever as well as a very handsome young man,and I don't think I ever remember having seen him to the sameadvantage,--when, behold, in the midst of our lively conversation, a verysoft sigh from Miss Lucy reached my not ungratified ears. I was greatlytoo generous to prosecute my victory any farther, even if I had not beenafraid of papa. Luckily for me, he had at that moment got into a longdescription of the peculiar notions and manners of a certain tribe ofIndians who live far up the country, and was illustrating them by makingdrawings on Miss Bertram's work-patterns, three of which he utterlydamaged by introducing among the intricacies of the pattern his specimensof Oriental costume. But I believe she thought as little of her own gownat the moment as of the Indian turbands and cummerbands. However, it wasquite as well for me that he did not see all the merit of my littlemanoeuvre, for he is as sharp-sighted as a hawk, and a sworn enemy to theslightest shade of coquetry.
'Well, Matilda, Hazlewood heard this same half-audible sigh, andinstantly repented his temporary attentions to such an unworthy object asyour Julia, and, with a very comical expression of consciousness, drewnear to Lucy's work-table. He made some trifling observation, and herreply was one in which nothing but an ear as acute as that of a lover, ora curious observer like myself, could have distinguished anything morecold and dry than usual. But it conveyed reproof to the self-accusinghero, and he stood abashed accordingly. You will admit that I was calledupon in generosity to act as mediator. So I mingled in the conversation,in the quiet tone of an unobserving and uninterested third party, ledthem into their former habits of easy chat, and, after having servedawhile as the channel of communication through which they chose toaddress each other, set them down to a pensive game at chess, and verydutifully went to tease papa, who was still busied with his drawings. Thechess-players, you must observe, were placed near the chimney, beside alittle work-table, which held the board and men, the Colonel at somedistance, with lights upon a library table; for it is a largeold-fashioned room, with several recesses, and hung with grim tapestry,representing what it might have puzzled the artist himself to explain.
'"Is chess a very interesting game, papa?"
'"I am told so," without honouring me with much of his notice.
'"I should think so, from the attention Mr. Hazlewood and Lucy arebestowing on it."
'He raised his head "hastily and held his pencil suspended for aninstant. Apparently he saw nothing that excited his suspicions, for hewas resuming the folds of a Mahratta's turban in tranquillity when Iinterrupted him with--"How old is Miss Bertram, sir?"
'"How should I know, Miss? About your own age, I suppose."
'"Older, I should think, sir. You are always telling me how much moredecorously she goes through all the honours of the tea-table. Lord, papa,what if you should give her a right to preside once and for ever!"
'"Julia, my dear," returned papa, "you are either a fool outright or youare more disposed to make mischief than I have yet believed you."
'"Oh, my dear sir! put your best construction upon it; I would not bethought a fool for all the world."
'"Then why do you talk like one?" said my father.
'"Lord, sir, I am sure there is nothing so foolish in what I said justnow. Everybody knows you are a very handsome man" (a smile was justvisible), "that is, for your time of life" (the dawn was overcast),"which is far from being advanced, and I am sure I don't know why youshould not please yourself, if you have a mind. I am sensible I am but athoughtless girl, and if a graver companion could render you morehappy--"
'There was a mixture of displeasure and grave affection in the manner inwhich my father took my hand, that was a severe reproof to me fortrifling with his feelings. "Julia," he said, "I bear with much of yourpetulance because I think I have in some degree deserved it, byneglecting to superintend your education sufficiently closely. Yet Iwould not have you give it the rein upon a subject so delicate. If you donot respect the feelings of your surviving parent towards the memory ofher whom you have lost, attend at least to the sacred claims ofmisfortune; and observe, that the slightest hint of such a jest reachingMiss Bertram's ears would at once induce her to renounce her presentasylum, and go forth, without a protector, into a world she has alreadyfelt so unfriendly."
'What could I say to this, Matilda? I only cried heartily, begged pardon,and promised to be a good girl in future. And so here am I neutralisedagain, for I cannot, in honour or common good-nature, tease poor Lucy byinterfering with Hazlewood, although she has so little confidence in me;and neither can I, after this grave appeal, venture again upon suchdelicate ground with papa. So I burn little rolls of paper, and sketchTurks' heads upon visiting cards with the blackened end--I assure you Isucceeded in making a superb Hyder-Ally last night--and I jingle on myunfortunate harpsichord, and begin at the end of a grave book and read itbackward. After all, I begin to be very much vexed about Brown's silence.Had he been obliged to leave the country, I am sure he would at leasthave written to me. Is it possible that my father can have interceptedhis letters? But no, that is contrary to all his principles; I don'tthink he would open a letter addressed to me to-night, to prevent myjumping out of window to-morrow. What an expression I have suffered toescape my pen! I should be ashamed of it, even to you, Matilda, and usedin jest. But I need not take much merit for acting as I ought to do. Thissame Mr. Vanbeest Brown is by no means so very ardent a lover as to hurrythe object of his attachment into such inconsiderate steps. He gives onefull time to reflect, that must be admitted. However, I will not blamehim unheard, nor permit myself to doubt the manly firmness of a characterwhich I have so often extolled to you. Were he capable of doubt, of fear,of the shadow of change, I should have little to regret.
'And why, you will say, when I expect such steady and unalterableconstancy from a lover, why should I be anxious about what Hazlewooddoes, or to whom he offers his attentions? I ask myself the question ahundred times a day, and it only receives the very silly answer that onedoes not like to be neglected, though one would not encourage a seriousinfidelity.
'I write all these trifles because you say that they amuse you, and yet Iwonder how they should. I remember, in our stolen voyages to the world offiction, you always admired the grand and the romantic,--tales ofknights, dwarfs, giants, and distressed damsels, oothsayers, visions,beckoning ghosts, and bloody hands; whereas I was partial to the involvedintrigues of private life, or at farthest to so much only of thesupernatural as is conferred by the agency of an Eastern genie or abeneficent fairy. YOU would have loved to shape your course of life overthe broad ocean, with its dead calms and howling tempests, its tornadoes,and its billows mountain-high; whereas I should like to trim my littlepinnace to a brisk breeze in some inland lake or tranquil bay, wherethere was just difficulty of navigation sufficient to give interest andto require skill without any sensible degree of danger. So that, upon thewhole, Matilda, I think you should have had my father, with his pride ofarms and of ancestry, his chivalrous point of honour, his high talents,and his abstruse and mystic studies. You should have had Lucy Bertram toofor your friend, whose fathers, with names which alike defy memory andorthography, ruled over this romantic country, and whose birth tookplace, as I have been indistinctly informed, under circumstances of deepand peculiar interest. You should have had, too, our Scottish residence,surrounded by mountains, and our lonely walks to haunted ruins. And Ishould have had, in exchange, the lawns and shrubs, and green-houses andconservatories, of Pine Park, with your good, quiet, indulgent aunt, herchapel in the morning, her nap after dinner, her hand at whist in theevening, not forgetting her fat coach-horses and fatter coachman. Takenotice, however, that Brown is not included in this proposed barter ofmine; his good-humour, lively conversation, and open gallantry suit myplan of life as well as his athletic form, handsome features, and highspirit would accord with a character of chivalry. So, as we cannot changealtogether out and out, I think we must e'en abide as we are.'
END OF VOLUME I
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br /> GUY MANNERING
BY SIR WALTER SCOTT
VOLUME II
