The rest of her property, which consisted of her cloaths and about two hundred pounds, which she had saved in service, became her sister’s, and were delivered by Maloney to the young man commissioned to receive them.
In the drawers given to her, Emmeline found some fine linen and laces, which had belonged to her mother; and two little silk boxes covered with nuns embroidery, which seemed not to have been opened for many years.
Emmeline saw that they were filled with letters: some of them in a hand which she had been shewn as her father’s. But she left them uninspected, and fastened up the caskets; her mind being yet too much affected with her loss to be able to examine any thing which brought to her recollection the fond solicitude of her departed friend.
The cold and mechanical terms in which the steward’s letter was written, encreased all her uneasy fears as to her future prospects.
Lord Montreville seemed to feel no kindness for her; nor to give any consideration to her forlorn and comfortless situation. The officious freedoms of Maloney encreased so much, that she was obliged to confine herself almost entirely to her own room to avoid him; and she determined, that if after the arrival of the companion she expected, he continued to besiege her with so much impertinent familiarity, she would quit the house, tho’ compelled to accept the meanest service for a subsistence.
After a fortnight of expectation, notice was received at the castle, that Mrs. Garnet, the housekeeper, was arrived at the market town. The labourer, with an horse, was dispatched for her, and towards evening she made her entry.
To Emmeline, who had from her earliest remembrance been accustomed only to the plainest dress, and the most simple and sober manners, the figure and deportment of this woman appeared equally extraordinary.
She wore a travelling dress of tawdry-coloured silk, trimmed with bright green ribbands; and her head was covered with an immense black silk hat, from which depended many yellow streamers; while the plumage, with which it was plentifully adorned, hung dripping over her face, from the effects of a thunder shower thro’ which she had passed. Her hair, tho’ carefully curled and powdered on her leaving London, had been also greatly deranged in her journey, and descended, in knotty tufts of a dirty yellow, over her cheeks and forehead; adding to the vulgar ferocity of a harsh countenance and a coarse complexion. Her figure was uncommonly tall and boney; and her voice so discordant and shrill, as to pierce the ear with the most unpleasant sensation, and compleat the disagreeable idea her person impressed.
Emmeline saw her enter, handed by the officious Maloney; and repressing her astonishment, she arose, and attempted to speak to her: but the contrast between the dirty, tawdry, and disgusting figure before her, and the sober plainness and neat simplicity of her lost friend, struck so forcibly on her imagination, that she burst into tears, and was altogether unable to command her emotion.
The steward having with great gallantry handed in the newly arrived lady, she thus began:
‘Oh! Lord a marcy on me! — to be shore I be got here at last! But indeed if I had a known whereabout I was a coming to, ’tis not a double the wagers as should a hired me. Lord! why what a ramshakel ould place it is! — and then such a monstrous long way from London! I suppose, Sir,’ (to Maloney) ‘as you be the steward; and you Miss, I reckon, be the young Miss as I be to have the care on. Why to be sure I did’nt much expect to see a christian face in such an out of the way place. I don’t b’leve I shall stay; howsomdever do let me have some tea; and do you, Miss, shew me whereabout I be to sleep.’
Emmeline, struggling with her dislike, or at least desirous of concealing it, did not venture to trust her voice with an answer; for her heart was too full; but stepping to the door, she called to the female servant, and ordered her to shew the lady her room. She had herself been used to share that appropriated to Mrs. Carey; but she now resolved to remove her bed into an apartment in one of the turrets of the castle, which was the only unoccupied room not wholly exposed to the weather.
This little room had been sashed by Mrs. Mowbray on account of the beautiful prospect it commanded between the hills, where suddenly sinking to the South West, they made way through a long narrow valley, fringed with copses, for a small but rapid river; which hurrying among immense stones, and pieces of rock that seemed to have been torn from the mountains by its violence, rushed into the sea at the distance of a mile from the castle.
This room, now for many years neglected, was much out of repair, but still habitable; and tho’ it was at a great distance from the rooms yet occupied, Emmeline chose rather to take up her abode in it, than partake of the apartment which was now to belong to Mrs. Garnet: and she found reason to applaud herself for this determination when she heard the exclamation Mrs. Garnet made on entering it —
‘Lord! why ’tis but a shabbyish place; and here is two beds I see. But that won’t suit me I asshore you. I chuses to have a room to myself, if it be ever so.’
‘Be not in any pain on that account, Madam,’ said Emmeline, who had now collected her thoughts; ‘it is my intention to remove my bed, and I have directed a person to do it immediately.’
She then returned into the steward’s room, where Maloney thus addressed her —
‘Sarvent again, pretty Miss! Pray how d’ye like our new housekeeper? A smartish piece of goods upon my word for Pembrokeshire; quite a London lady, eh, Miss?’
‘It is impossible for me, Sir, to judge of her yet.’
‘Why ay, Miss, as you justly observes, ’tis full early to know what people be; but I hope we shall find her quite the thing; and if so be as she’s but good tempered, and agreeable, and the like, why I warrant we shall pass this here summer as pleasant as any thing can be. And now my dear Miss, perhaps, may’nt be so shy and distant, as she have got another woman body to keep her company.’
This eloquent harangue was interrupted by the return of Mrs. Garnet, full of anxiety for her tea; and in the bustle created by the desire of the maid and Maloney to accommodate her, Emmeline retired to her new apartment, where she was obliged to attend to the removal of her bed and other things; and excusing herself, under the pretence of fatigue, from returning to the steward’s room, she passed some time in melancholy recollection and more melancholy anticipation, and then retired to rest.
Some days passed in murmurs on the part of Mrs. Garnet, and in silence on that of Emmeline; who, as soon as she had finished her short repasts, always went to her own room.
After a few weeks, she discovered that the lady grew every day more reconciled to her situation; and from the pleasures she apparently took in the gallantries of Maloney, and his constant assiduities to her, the innocent Emmeline supposed there was really an attachment forming between them, which would certainly deliver her from the displeasing attentions of the steward.
Occupied almost entirely by her books, of which she every day became more enamoured, she never willingly broke in upon a tête à tête which she fancied was equally agreeable to all parties; and she saw with satisfaction that they regretted not her absence.
But the motives of Maloney’s attention were misunderstood. Insensible as such a man must be supposed to the charms of the elegant and self-cultivated mind of Emmeline, her personal beauty had made a deep impression on his heart; and he had formed a design of marrying her, before the death of Mrs. Carey, to whom he had once or twice mentioned something like a hint of his wishes: but she had received all his discourse on that topic with so much coldness, and ever so carefully avoided any conversation that might again lead to it, that he had been deterred from entirely explaining himself. Now, however, he thought the time was arrived, when he might make a more successful application; for he never doubted but that Mrs. Garnet would obtain, over the tender and ingenuous mind of Emmeline, an influence as great as had been possessed by Mrs. Carey.
Nor did he apprehend that a friendless orphan, without fortune or connections, would want much persuasion to marry a young man of handsome figure (as he conceived himself to be,) who was esta
blished in a profitable place, and had some dependance of his own.
The distance which Emmeline had always obliged him to observe, he imputed to the timidity of her nature; which he hoped would be lessened by the free and familiar manners of her present companion, whose conversation was very unlike what she had before been accustomed to hear from Mrs. Carey.
Impressed with these ideas, he paid his court most assiduously to the housekeeper, who put down all his compliments to the account of her own attractions; and was extremely pleased with her conquest; which she exhausted all her eloquence and all her wardrobe to secure.
CHAPTER III
In this situation were the inhabitants of Mowbray Castle; when, in the beginning of July, orders were received from Lord Montreville to set workmen immediately about repairing the whole end of the castle which was yet habitable; as his son, Mr. Delamere, intended to come down early in the Autumn, to shoot, for some weeks, in Wales. His Lordship added, that it was possible he might himself be there also for a few weeks; and therefore directed several bed-chambers to be repaired, for which he would send down furniture from London.
No time was lost in obeying these directions. Workmen were immediately procured, and the utmost expedition used to put the place in a situation to receive its master: while Emmeline, who foresaw that the arrival of Lord Montreville would probably occasion some change in regard to herself, and who thought that every change must be for the better, beheld these preparations with pleasure.
All had been ready some weeks, and the time fixed for Mr. Delamere’s journey elapsed, but he had yet given no notice of his arrival.
At length, towards the middle of September, they were one evening alarmed by the noise of horses on the ascent to the castle.
Emmeline retired to her own room, fearful of she knew not what; while Mrs. Garnet and Maloney flew eagerly to the door; where a French valet, and an English groom with a led horse, presented themselves, and were ushered into the old kitchen; the dimensions of which, blackened as it was with the smoke of ages, and provided with the immense utensils of ancient hospitality, failed not to amaze them both.
The Frenchman expressed his wonder and dislike by several grimaces; and then addressing himself to Mrs. Garnet, exclaimed— ‘Peste! Milor croit’il qu’on peut subsister dans cette espece d’enfer? Montré moi les apartements de Monsieur.’
‘Oh, your name is Mounseer, is it?’ answered she— ‘Aye, I thought so — What would you please to have, Mounseer?’
‘Diable!’ cried the distressed valet; ‘voici une femme aussi sauvage que le lieu qu’elle habite. Com, com, you Jean Groom, speak littel to dis voman pour moi.’
With the help of John, who had been some time used to his mode of explaining himself, Mrs. Garnet understood that Mounseer desired to be shewn the apartments destined for his master, which he assiduously assisted in preparing; and then seeing the women busied in following his directions, he attempted to return to his companion; but by missing a turning which should have carried him to the kitchen, he was bewildered among the long galleries and obscure passages of the castle, and after several efforts, could neither find his way back to the women, nor into the kitchen; but continued to blunder about till the encreasing gloom, which approaching night threw over the arched and obscure apartments, through windows dim with painted glass, filled him with apprehension and dismay, and he believed he should wander there the whole night; in which fear he began to make a strange noise for assistance; to which nobody attended, for indeed nobody for some time heard him. His terror encreasing, he continued to traverse one of the passages, when a door at the corner of it opened, and Emmeline came out.
The man, whose imagination was by this time filled with ideas of spectres, flew back at her sudden appearance, and added the contortions of fear to his otherwise grotesque appearance, in a travelling jacket of white cloth, laced, and his hair in papillotes.
Emmeline, immediately comprehending that it was one of Mr. Delamere’s servants, enquired what he wanted; and the man, reassured by her voice and figure, which there was yet light enough to discern, approached her, and endeavoured to explain that he had lost himself; in a language, which, though Emmeline did not understand, she knew to be French.
She walked with him therefore to the gallery which opened to the great staircase, from whence he could hardly mistake his way; where having pointed it to him, she turned back towards her own room.
But Millefleur, who had now had an opportunity to contemplate the person of his conductress, was not disposed so easily to part with her.
By the extreme simplicity of her dress, he believed her to be only some fair villager, or an assistant to the housekeeper; and therefore without ceremony he began in broken English to protest his admiration, and seized her hand with an impertinent freedom extremely shocking to Emmeline.
She snatched it from him; and flying hastily back through those passages which all his courage did not suffice to make him attempt exploring again, she regained her turret, the door of which she instantly locked and bolted; then breathless with fear and anger, she reflected on the strange and unpleasant scene she had passed through, and felt greatly humbled, to find that she was now likely to be exposed to the insolent familiarity of servants, from which she knew not whether the presence of the master would protect her.
While she suffered the anguish these thoughts brought with them, Millefleur travelled back to the kitchen; where he began an oration in his own language on the beauty of the young woman he had met with.
Neither Mrs. Garnet nor Maloney understood what he was saying; but John, who had been in France, and knew a good deal of the language, told them that he had seen a very pretty girl, in whose praise he was holding forth.
‘Why, Lord,’ exclaimed Mrs. Garnet, ’tis our Miss as Mounseer means; I had a quite forgot the child; I’ll go call her; but howsomdever Mounseer won’t be able to get a word out of her; if she’s a beauty I asshore you ’tis a dumb beauty.’
Maloney, by no means pleased with Millefleur’s discovery, would willingly have prevented the housekeeper’s complaisance; but not knowing how to do it, he was obliged to let her ascend to Emmeline, whose door she found locked.
‘Miss! Miss!’ cried she, rapping loudly, ‘you must come down.’
‘Is my Lord or Mr. Delamere arrived?’ enquired Emmeline.
‘No,’ replied Mrs. Garnet, ‘neither of em be’nt come yet; but here’s my Lord’s waley de sham, and another sarvent, and you’ll come down to tea to be sure.’
‘No,’ said Emmeline, ‘you must excuse me, Mrs. Garnet. I am not very well; and if I were, should decline appearing to these people, with whom, perhaps, it may not be my Lord’s design that I should associate.’
‘People!’ exclaimed Mrs. Garnet; ‘as to people, I do suppose that for all one of them is a Frenchman, they be as good as other folks; and if I am agreeable to let them drink tea in my room, sure you, Miss, mid’nt be so squeamish. But do as you please; for my part I shan’t court beauties.’
So saying, the angry housekeeper descended to her companions, to whom she complained of the pride and ill manners of Miss; while Maloney rejoiced at a reserve so favourable to the hopes he entertained.
Emmeline determined to remain as much as possible in her own room, ‘till Lord Montreville or Mr. Delamere came, and then to solicit her removal.
She therefore continued positively to refuse to appear to the party below; and ordered the maid servant to bring her dinner into her own room, which she never quitted ‘till towards evening, to pursue her usual walks.
On the third afternoon subsequent to the arrival of Mr. Delamere’s avant-couriers, Emmeline went down to the sea side, and seating herself on a fragment of rock, fixed her eyes insensibly on the restless waves that broke at her feet. The low murmurs of the tide retiring on the sands; the sighing of the wind among the rocks which hung over her head, cloathed with long grass and marine plants; the noise of the sea fowl going to their nests among the cliffs; threw her into
a profound reverie.
She forgot awhile all her apprehended misfortunes, a sort of stupor took possession of her senses, and she no longer remembered how the time had passed there, which already exceeded two hours; though the moon, yet in its encrease, was arisen, and threw a long line of radience on the water.
Thus lost in indistinct reflections, she was unconscious of the surrounding objects, when the hasty tread of somebody on the pebbles behind her, made her suddenly recollect herself; and though accustomed to be so much alone, she started in some alarm in remembering the late hour, and the solitary place where she was.
A man approached her, in whom with satisfaction she recollected a young peasant of the village, who was frequently employed in messages from the castle.
‘Miss Emmy,’ said the lad, ‘you are wanted at home; for there is my Lord his own self, and the young Lord, and more gentlefolks come; so Madam Garnet sent me to look for you all about.’
Emmeline, hurried by this intelligence, walked hastily away with the young villager, and soon arrived at the castle.
The wind had blown her beautiful hair about her face, and the glow of her cheeks was heightened by exercise and apprehension. A more lovely figure than she now appeared could hardly be imagined. She had no time to reflect on the interview; but hastened immediately into the parlour where Lord Montreville was sitting with his son; Mr. Fitz-Edward, who was a young officer, his friend, distantly related to the family; and Mr. Headly, a man celebrated for his knowledge of rural improvements, whom Lord Montreville had brought down to have his opinion of the possibility of rendering Mowbray Castle a residence fit for his family for a few months in the year.
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