The Absentee

by Maria Edgeworth

  'In one word, then,' said Lord Colambre, 'I will, upon two conditions, either join my father in levying fines to enable him to sell or mortgage whatever portion of his estate is necessary for the payment of these debts; or I will, in whatever other mode he can point out, as more agreeable or more advantageous to him, join in giving security to his creditors.'

  'Dear, noble fellow!' cried Sir Terence; 'none but an Irishman could do it.'

  Lord Clonbrony, melted to tears, could not articulate, but held his arms open to embrace his son.

  'But you have not heard my conditions yet,' said Lord Colambre.

  'Oh, confound the conditions!' cried Sir Terence.

  'What conditions could he ask that I could refuse at this minute?' said Lord Clonbrony.

  'Nor I—was it my heart's blood, and were I to be hanged for it,' cried Sir Terence. 'And what are the conditions?'

  'That Mr. Garraghty shall be dismissed from the agency.'

  'And welcome, and glad to get rid of him—the rogue, the tyrant,' said Lord Clonbrony; 'and, to be beforehand with you in your next wish, put Mr. Burke into his place.'

  'I'll write the letter for you to sign, my lord, this minute,' cried Terry, 'with all the pleasure in life. No; it's my Lord Colambre should do that in all justice.'

  'But what's your next condition? I hope it's no worse,' said Lord Clonbrony.

  'That you and my mother should cease to be absentees.'

  'Oh murder!' said Sir Terence; 'maybe that's not so easy; for there are two words to that bargain.'

  Lord Clonbrony declared that, for his own part, he was ready to return to Ireland next morning, and to promise to reside on his estate all the rest of his days; that there was nothing he desired more, provided Lady Clonbrony would consent to it; but that he could not promise for her; that she was as obstinate as a mule on that point; that he had often tried, but that there was no moving her; and that, in short, he could not promise on her part.

  But it was on this condition, Lord Colambre said, he must insist. Without this condition was granted, he would not engage to do anything.

  'Well, we must only see how it will be when she comes to town; she will come up from Buxton the day you're of age to sign some papers,' said Lord Clonbrony; 'but,' added he, with a very dejected look and voice, 'if all's to depend on my Lady Clonbrony's consenting to return to Ireland, I'm as far from all hope of being at ease as ever.'

  'Upon my conscience, we're all at sea again,' said Sir Terence.

  Lord Colambre was silent: but in his silence there was such an air of firmness, that both Lord Clonbrony and Sir Terence were convinced entreaties would on this point be fruitless—Lord Clonbrony sighed deeply.

  'But when it's ruin or safety, and her husband and all belonging to her at stake, the woman can't persist in being a mule,' said Sir Terence.

  'Of whom are you talking?' said Lord Colambre.

  'Of whom? Oh, I beg your lordship's pardon—I thought I was talking to my lord; but, in other words, as you are her son, I'm persuaded her ladyship, your mother, will prove herself a reasonable woman—when she sees she can't help it. So, my Lord Clonbrony, cheer up; a great deal may be done by the fear of Mordicai, and an execution, especially now the prior creditor. Since there's no reserve between you and I now, my Lord Colambre,' said Sir Terence, 'I must tell you all, and how we shambled on those months while you were in Ireland. First, Mordicai went to law, to prove I was in a conspiracy with your father, pretending to be prior creditor, to keep him off and out of his own; which, after a world of swearing and law—law always takes time to do justice, that's one comfort—the villain proved at last to be true enough, and so cast us; and I was forced to be paid off last week. So there's no prior creditor, or any shield of pretence that way. Then his execution was coming down upon us, and nothing to stay it till I thought of a monthly annuity to Mordicai, in the shape of a wager. So, the morning after he cast us, I went to him: "Mr. Mordicai," says I, "you must be PLASED to see a man you've beaten so handsomely; and though I'm sore, both for myself and my friend, yet you see I can laugh still; though an execution is no laughing matter, and I'm sinsible you've one in petto in your sleeve for my friend Lord Clonbrony. But I'll lay you a wager of a hundred guineas in paper that a marriage of his son with a certain heiress, before next Lady-day, will set all to rights, and pay you with a compliment too."'

  'Good heavens, Sir Terence! surely you said no such thing?'

  'I did—but what was it but a wager? which is nothing but a dream; and, when lost, as I am as sinsible as you are that it must be, why, what is it, after all, but a bonus, in a gentleman-like form, to Mordicai? which, I grant you, is more than he deserves, for staying the execution till you be of age; and even for my Lady Clonbrony's sake, though I know she hates me like poison, rather than have her disturbed by an execution, I'd pay the hundred guineas this minute out of my own pocket, if I had'em in it.'

  A thundering knock at the door was heard at this moment.

  'Never heed it; let 'em thunder,' said Sir Terence; 'whoever it is, they won't get in; for my lord bid them let none in for their life. It's necessary for us to be very particular about the street-door now; and I advise a double chain for it, and to have the footmen well tutored to look before they run to a double rap; for a double rap might be a double trap.'

  'My lady and Miss Nugent, my lord,' said a footman, throwing open the door.

  'My mother! Miss Nugent!' cried Lord Colambre, springing eagerly forward.

  'Colambre! here!' said his mother; 'but it's all too late now, and no matter where you are.'

  Lady Clonbrony coldly suffered her son to embrace her; and he, without considering the coldness of her manner, scarcely hearing, and not at all understanding the words she said, fixed his eyes on his cousin, who, with a countenance all radiant with affectionate joy, held out her hand to him.

  'Dear cousin Colambre, what an unexpected pleasure!'

  He seized the hand; but, as he was going to kiss it, the recollection of ST. OMAR crossed his mind; he checked himself, and said something about joy and pleasure, but his countenance expressed neither; and Miss Nugent, much surprised by the coldness of his manner, withdrew her hand, and, turning away, left the room.

  'Grace! darling!' called Lord Clonbrony, 'whither so fast, before you've given me a word or a kiss?'

  She came back, and hastily kissed her uncle, who folded her in his arms. 'Why must I let you go? And what makes you so pale, my dear child?'

  'I am a little—a little tired. I will be with you again soon.' Her uncle let her go.

  'Your famous Buxton baths don't seem to have agreed with her, by all I can see,' said Lord Clonbrony.

  'My lord, the Buxton baths are no way to blame; but I know what is to blame, and who is to blame,' said Lady Clonbrony, in a tone of displeasure, fixing her eyes upon her son. 'Yes, you may well look confounded, Colambre; but it is too late now—you should have known your own mind in time. I see you have heard it, then—but I am sure I don't know how; for it was only decided the day I left Buxton. The news could hardly travel faster than I did. Pray, how did you hear it?'

  'Hear what, ma'am?' said Lord Colambre.

  'Why, that Miss Broadhurst is going to be married.'

  'Oh, is that all, ma'am!' said our hero, much relieved.

  'All! Now, Lord Colambre, you REELLY are too much for my patience. But I flatter myself you will feel, when I tell you, that it is your friend, Sir Arthur Berryl, as I always prophesied, who has carried off the prize from you.'

  'But for the fear of displeasing my dear mother, I should say, that I do feel sincere pleasure in this marriage—I always wished it: my friend, Sir Arthur, from the first moment, trusted me with the secret of his attachment; he knew that he had my warm good wishes for his success; he knew that I thought most highly of the young lady; but that I never thought of her as a wife for myself.'

  'And why did not you? that is the very thing I complain of,' said Lady Clonbrony. 'But it is all over now. You may se
t your heart at ease, for they are to be married on Thursday; and poor Mrs. Broadhurst is ready to break her heart, for she was set upon a coronet for her daughter; and you, ungrateful as you are, you don't know how she wished you to be the happy man. But only conceive, after all that had passed, Miss Broadhurst had the assurance to expect I would let my niece be her bridesmaid. Oh, I flatly refused; that is, I told Grace it could not be; and, that there might be no affront to Mrs. Broadhurst, who did not deserve it, I pretended Grace had never mentioned it; but ordered my carriage, and left Buxton directly. Grace was hurt, for she is very warm in her friendships. I am sorry to hurt Grace. But REELLY I could not let her be bridesmaid;—and that, if you must know, is what vexed her, and made the tears come in her eyes, I suppose—and I'm sorry for it; but one must keep up one's dignity a little. After all, Miss Broadhurst was only a citizen—and REELLY now, a very odd girl; never did anything like anybody else; settled her marriage at last in the oddest way. Grace, can you tell the particulars? I own, I am tired of the subject, and tired of my journey. My lord, I shall take leave to dine in my own room to-day,' continued her ladyship, as she quitted the room.

  'I hope her ladyship did not notice me,' said Sir Terence O'Fay, coming from behind a window-curtain.

  'Why, Terry, what did you hide for?' said Lord Clonbrony.

  'Hide! I didn't hide, nor wouldn't from any man living, let alone any woman. (Leaving any woman out of the question.) Hide! no; but I just stood looking out of the window, behind this curtain, that my poor Lady Clonbrony might not be discomfited and shocked by the sight of one whom she can't abide, the very minute she come home. Oh, I've some consideration—it would have put her out of humour worse with both of you too; and for that there's no need, as far as I see. So I'll take myself off to my coffee-house to dine, and maybe you may get her down and into spirits again. But, for your lives, don't touch upon Ireland the night, nor till she has fairly got the better of the marriage. APROPOS—there's my wager to Mordicai gone at a slap. It's I that ought to be scolding you, my Lord Colambre; but I trust you will do as well yet, not in point of purse, maybe. But I'm not one of those that think that money's everything—though, I grant you, in this world, there's nothing to be had without it—love excepted—which most people don't believe in—but not I—in particular cases. So I leave you, with my blessing, and I've a notion, at this time, that is better than my company—your most devoted—'

  The good-natured Sir Terence would not be persuaded by Lord Clonbrony to stay. Nodding at Lord Colambre as he went out of the room, he said, 'I've an eye, in going, to your heart's ease too. When I played myself, I never liked standers-by.'

  Sir Terence was not deficient in penetration, but he never could help boasting of his discoveries.

  Lord Colambre was grateful for his judicious departure; and followed his equally judicious advice, not to touch upon Ireland this night.

  Lady Clonbrony was full of Buxton, and he was glad to be relieved from the necessity of talking; and he indulged himself in considering what might be passing in Miss Nugent's mind. She now appeared in remarkably good spirits; for her aunt had given her a hint that she thought her out of humour because she had not been permitted to be Miss Broadhurst's bridesmaid, and she was determined to exert herself to dispel this notion. This it was now easy for her to do, because she had, by this time, in her own imagination, found a plausible excuse for that coldness in Lord Colambre's reception of her, by which she had at first been hurt; she had settled it, that he had taken it for granted she was of his mother's sentiments respecting Miss Broadhurst's marriage, and that this idea, and perhaps the apprehension of her reproaches, had caused his embarrassment—she knew that she could easily set this misunderstanding right. Accordingly, when Lady Clonbrony had talked herself to sleep about Buxton, and was taking her afternoon's nap, as it was her custom to do when she had neither cards nor company to keep her awake, Miss Nugent began to explain her own sentiments, and to give Lord Colambre, as her aunt had desired, an account of the manner in which Miss Broadhurst's marriage had been settled.

  'In the first place,' said she, 'let me assure you that I rejoice in this marriage; I think your friend, Sir Arthur Berryl, is every way deserving of my friend, Miss Broadhurst; and this from me,' said she, smiling, 'is no slight eulogium. I have marked the rise and progress of their attachment; and it has been founded on the perception of such excellent qualities on each side, that I have no fear for its permanence. Sir Arthur Berryl's honourable conduct in paying his father's debts, and his generosity to his mother and sisters, whose fortunes were left entirely dependent upon him, first pleased my friend. It was like what she would have done herself, and like—in short, it is what few young men, as she said, of the present day would do. Then his refraining from all personal expenses, his going without equipage and without horses, that he might do what he felt to be right, whilst it exposed him continually to the ridicule of fashionable young men, or to the charge of avarice, made a very different impression on Miss Broadhurst's mind; her esteem and admiration were excited by these proofs of strength of character, and of just and good principles.'

  'If you go on, you will make me envious and jealous of my friend,' said Lord Colambre.

  'You jealous!—Oh, it is too late now—besides, you cannot be jealous, for you never loved.'

  'I never loved Miss Broadhurst, I acknowledge.'

  'There was the advantage Sir Arthur Berryl had over you—he loved, and my friend saw it.'

  'She was clear-sighted,' said Lord Colambre.

  'She was clear-sighted,' repeated Miss Nugent; 'but if you mean that she was vain, and apt to fancy people in love with her, I can assure you that you are mistaken. Never was woman, young or old, more clear-sighted to the views of those by whom she was addressed. No flattery, no fashion, could blind her judgment.'

  'She knew how to choose a friend well, I am sure,' said Lord Colambre.

  'And a friend for life too, I am sure you will allow and she had such numbers, such strange variety of admirers, as might have puzzled the choice and turned the brain of any inferior person. Such a succession of lovers as she has had this summer, ever since you went to Ireland—they appeared and vanished like figures in a magic-lantern. She had three noble admirers—rank in three different forms offered themselves. First came in, hobbling, rank and gout; next, rank and gaming; then rank, Very high rank, over head and ears in debt. All of these were rejected; and, as they moved off; I thought Mrs. Broadhurst would have broken her heart. Next came fashion, with his head, heart, and soul in his cravat—he quickly made his bow, or rather his nod, and walked off, taking a pinch of snuff. Then came a man of gallantry, but,' whispered Miss Nugent, 'there was a mistress in the wood; and my friend could have nothing to do with that gentleman.'

  'Now, if she liked the man, interrupted Lord Clonbrony, 'and I suppose she did, for all women, but yourself, Grace, like men of gallantry, Miss Broadhurst was a goose for refusing him on account of the mistress; because she might have been bought up, and settled with a few thousand pounds.'

  'Be that as it may,' said Miss Nugent; 'my friend did not like, and would not accept, of the man of gallantry; so he retired and comforted himself with a copy of verses. Then came a man of wit—but still it was wit without worth; and presently came "worth without wit." She preferred "wit and worth united," which she fortunately at last found, Lord Colambre, in your friend, Sir Arthur Berryl.'

  'Grace, my girl!' said her uncle, 'I'm glad to see you've got up your spirits again, though you were not to be bridesmaid. Well, I hope you'll be bride soon—I'm sure you ought to be—and you should think of rewarding that poor Mr. Salisbury, who plagues me to death, whenever he can catch hold of me, about you. He must have our definitive at last, you know, Grace.'

  A silence ensued, which neither Miss Nugent nor Lord Colambre seemed willing, or able, to break.

  Very good company, faith, you three!—One of ye asleep, and the other two saying nothing, to keep one awake. Colambre, have you no Dub
lin news? Grace, have you no Buxton scandal? What was it Lady Clonbrony told us you'd tell us, about the oddness of Miss Broadhurst's settling her marriage? Tell me that, for I love to hear odd things.'

  'Perhaps you will not think it odd,' said she. 'One evening—but I should begin by telling you that three of her admirers, beside Sir Arthur Berryl, had followed her to Buxton, and had been paying their court to her all the time we were there; and at last grew impatient for her decision.'

  'Ay, for her definitive!' said Lord Clonbrony. Miss Nugent was put out again, but resumed—

  'So one evening, just before the dancing began, the gentlemen were all standing round Miss Broadhurst; one of them said, "I wish Miss Broadhurst would decide—that whoever she dances with to-night should be her partner for life; what a happy man he would be!"

  '"But how can I decide?" said Miss Broadhurst.

  '"I wish I had a friend to plead for me!" said one of the suitors, looking at me.

  '"Have you no friend of your own?" said Miss Broadhurst.

  '"Plenty of friends," said the gentleman.

  '"Plenty!—then you must be a very happy man," replied Miss Broadhurst. "Come," said she, laughing, "I will dance with that man who can convince me—that he has, near relations excepted, one true friend in the world! That man who has made the best friend, I dare say, will make the best husband!"