Charlotte Smith- Collected Poetical Works

by Charlotte Smith

  Still, however, it was not her interest to encourage the affection which many circumstances gave her reason to believe Orlando entertained for her niece. She knew that, if the rashness of youth and passion should urge them to marry, it would not only ruin Orlando, who would then be a beggar; but that she should herself be accused of having promoted this fatal indiscretion, and lose her own advantages without obtaining any for her niece, whom she by no means wished to see independent of her, even if independence could thus have been obtained; and whom she treated with redoubled rigour, when she found reason to believe that Orlando felt for her that attachment which she had from their childhood foreseen and attempted to prevent.

  The more Orlando gained on the favour of Mrs Rayland, the more apprehensive Mrs Lennard became of his affection for Monimia: she had however persuaded herself, that, with the precautions she took, their clandestinely meeting or carrying on any correspondence was impracticable; and, satisfied that Monimia was confined to her room, her vigilance had now and then slumbered. But it awakened by the late reports that obtained in the house and about the country; reports which originated in the gossip of Orlando’s nocturnal visitor; of his being missing at unusual hours, and from Betty’s hints. When, therefore, Pattenson’s jealousy was so far roused as to urge him to speak to his Lady of a supposed intimacy between Orlando and this his faithless favourite, Mrs Lennard let it make its impression; and Betty’s pertness who had before agreed with Philip Somerive to take the first opportunity of going off to him, gave her a pretence immediately to discharge her. Mrs Rayland, content to part with her favourite Orlando, because she thought it for his advantage to see something of the world in an honourable profession – and because she believed, if youth and idleness had concurred with the art of the girl with whom he was accused, to lead him into any improper connection, this was the best way to break it – determined on his departure with satisfaction, since the General assured her there was at present no probability of his leaving England.

  Mrs Lennard, who thought herself fortunate in having all the suspicions fall on Betty, kept as a profound secret those she entertained herself relative to Monimia, whom she resolved narrowly to watch till Orlando was gone. And Pattenson, glad that the young minion was to go, as he termed it, for a soldier, reconciled himself by that reflection to the failure of his original plan, which had been totally to ruin him with Mrs Rayland. As to the loss of his fair one, he knew she would not remove far; and that resentment for his accusations would not make her long relentless, while he had presents and money to offer her.

  Such were, at this juncture, the politics of Rayland Hall.

  CHAPTER XIII

  THE house of West Wolverton too had its politicians; but none of them were so content with their past operations, or future prospects, as the venerable group last described.

  Isabella, wild and coquettish as she was, could no longer affect to misunderstand the language with which General Tracy ventured to address her. For some time, however, she attempted to laugh it off; but at length resolved, by the counsel of Selina, to speak to her mother, and entreat that, if the General remained any longer their guest, she might not be so often left to hear professions so insulting, which the presence of her sisters did not always restrain. Mrs Somerive, whose heart was half broken by the behaviour of Philip, and who saw, with inexpressible anguish, the ravage which the uneasiness arising from that source was hourly making on the constitution of her husband, had been fondly flattering herself, during the first weeks of the General’s visit, that in him Mr Somerive had found a sincere friend, and their children a powerful protector. The solicitude he expressed for Orlando, and the consideration with which he treated Philip, made her sanguinely believe that he would provide for one, and possibly reclaim the other. The sums which the latter had won from him at play – Mrs Somerive, who knew nothing of their nightly gambling, supposed the General had lent him; when her heart, overflowing with gratitude towards this generous friend, was suddenly struck with the intelligence Isabella gave her.

  She at first fancied the vanity of Isabella might have given meaning to his expressions which they were never meant to convey; but, upon questioning her and Selina repeatedly, and from the observations she made the two following days, she was convinced that their representations of his behaviour were just. This cruel certainty she determined however to conceal from her husband, and to guard, by her own prudent watchfulness, against the artifices of the General, without bringing on a rupture between him and Somerive, that might be attended with consequences she sickened to think of.

  The General, however, who paid her the most assiduous court, was soon sensible of a change in her manners; for she was incapable of the dissimulation which people of the world so successfully practise. From hence, and from the behaviour of Isabella, the General found that a longer stay would betray his insidious designs without contributing at all to their success, and he prepared to go; yet could not bear to relinquish for ever his hopes of gaining Isabella, with whom he was more in love than ever. He lingered, therefore, notwithstanding all the discouragement he received; and Somerive, who believed him the best and most sincere friend that ever man had, communicated to him all his affairs, and all his anxiety – by which the General perceived plainly, he was in such a state of mind as must hasten him to the grave; and he had learned that, impressed with ideas of his (the General’s) friendship for all his family, he had made him executor, and trusted the welfare of his wife and daughters entirely to him and to Orlando.

  Though Tracy therefore could neither give up his pursuit, nor succeed in it at present, he believed that the death of the father, the indigence to which the whole family would be reduced, and the absence of Orlando, would together make easy the project of obtaining Isabella for a mistress; and that patience and dissimulation alone were necessary to keep up his influence in the family, till they should be wholly in his power. He determined, therefore, to check himself; to make no more professions with which Isabella could be offended, but to express his contrition that he had said what she construed into want of respect; to hint remotely at honourable intentions; and thus, without engaging himself, or, as the fashionable phrase is, committing himself, to retain his influence over the whole family, as well as over the father; and to be assured that, whenever he chose to return, he should be received with pleasure. As to any suspicion that Isabella might think him of an age so disproportionate as to hear even his honourable offers with disdain and ridicule, it never occurred to the General; and he was pretty well assured, from the pecuniary circumstances of the family, that every other member of it would receive the remotest hint of an intended alliance with transport. The behaviour of Mrs Somerive, on the evening of the tenants’ ball, convinced him that Isabella had not merely threatened when she protested she would speak to her mother of his behaviour; and he found that though Mr Somerive, whenever he talked of going, pressed his stay, it was time to depart.

  The messenger, who was sent to the post town on the following evening for letters, brought to General Tracy a large pacquet, arrived that day by the stage. On opening it, it was found to contain the commission of an ensign for Orlando Somerive, executed in due form, from the War Office. This he hastened to offer, with a florid speech, to Mrs Somerive; who had hardly recovered from the emotions which the sight of it, and his peculiar and studied manner of presenting it, occasioned, when Orlando, anxious to know at what time his brother had got home, and how his mother and sisters were after the fatigue and uneasiness of the night before, arrived.

  On his first entrance, he enquired eagerly after his brother. – ‘Your brother!’ cried Mr Somerive; ‘he is not at home, Orlando, nor have we seen him since last night: – believing he was with you, and indeed supposing it possible that he was not well enough to leave your apartment, I made myself tolerably easy about him. – But when did he leave you? and where is he now?’

  Orlando replied, that he had left his bed about eleven o’clock: and then, to quiet the uneasines
s which he saw this unexpected absence gave to them all, he added, ‘But he is gone, I dare say, to Mr Stockton’s, where he has talked some time of intending to pass a day or two, and probably will not return home till to-morrow or next day.’

  ‘Gone to Mr Stockton’s!’ exclaimed Mrs Somerive – ‘What! without linen or change of clothes, though there is an house full of company?’

  Mr Somerive, who saw how much his wife was alarmed and affected, endeavoured to speak lightly of the absence of her son – ‘You know, my love,’ said he, ‘that Philip does not pique himself on being a beau; and that the party at Mr Stockton’s are only men. He can probably borrow any linen he wants of his friends; and, as he means to be at home so soon, and has no servant with him, perhaps preferred doing so to the trouble of sending home for his own.’ Mrs Somerive sighed, and cast a desponding look on her husband, who added, ‘But, come, my dear Bella, you and I have something to say to Orlando – we will go all together into my study for a few moments, and the girls will have tea ready against our return.’ – So, saying, he took his wife’s hand, and, Orlando following them, they left the room.

  Mrs Somerive was no sooner released from the restraint which the presence of the General imposed, than she threw herself into a chair, and fell into an agony of tears. Her husband gently chid her for emotion which he endeavoured to persuade her was much beyond the occasion; and, having succeeded in rendering her somewhat more calm, he told Orlando that his commission was arrived, and enquired whether any conversation had passed between him and Mrs Rayland in consequence of what had been held between her and General Tracy the preceding evening? Orlando related it all as nearly as he could recollect it, save only that sentence which related to some fancied attachment; and Mr Somerive received, with great pleasure, what appeared to him equal to a confirmation of the most sanguine hopes he had ever entertained on his son’s behalf. – Mrs Somerive however was less elated: she could not comprehend how Mrs Rayland, if she had so much affection for Orlando, could not only bear to part with him, but promote his departure; or how, if she meant to make him her heir, she could determine to send him out in the world a soldier of fortune. The representations of her husband, however, and the content which Orlando expressed, reconciled her by degrees to what she could not now recall. She gave him, but not without many tears, the commission with which General Tracy had just presented her – but as she tried to give him her blessing with it, she relapsed into convulsive sorrow. Mr Somerive found it would only distress her to return to the parlour; he therefore bade Orlando lead his mother to her own room, while he, returning to where his daughters were sitting with General Tracy, bade them go to her, and send their brother down to the parlour.

  Orlando, on his entrance, addressed himself to Tracy, whom he thanked in the most graceful terms. The General answered his compliment with politeness, and the three gentlemen then began to discourse of the departure of Orlando for that party of his regiment that were in England, which Tracy told him could not properly be deferred longer than till the following week. He advised therefore that Orlando should set out for London on the following Monday – ‘when,’ said he, ‘as I shall go thither myself, I can have the pleasure of giving you a place in my post-chaise.’

  Mr Somerive, while he expressed regret that the General was to leave him so soon (though his stay had been prolonged to almost six weeks), yet embraced this offer with avidity. He foresaw, that in the equipment of Orlando, of which Mrs Rayland was, he understood, to defray the expence, the directions of such a friend could not fail of being extremely useful, and that his instructions might in a thousand more material instances be of advantage to him. – It was therefore settled among them, that, on the evening of the following Sunday, Orlando should take leave of his ancient benefactress, and repair to his father’s house, to be ready to attend General Tracy to town the next morning.

  Orlando was now impatient to return to the Hall – He hoped to have a few moments conversation with Monimia that evening; alas! only one more was to intervene before his departure: and the painful task of reconciling her to his going so soon, and of taking a long – long leave, seemed to require an age! – His restlessness became so evident that his father noticed it – ‘You will stay here to-night, Orlando?’ said he. ‘No, Sir,’ answered his son; ‘I wish with your leave to return to the Hall. – Mrs Rayland often asks for me at breakfast, and you will allow that just at this period I should not seem in the slightest degree to neglect her.’ – ‘You are right in returning,’ said Mr Somerive, fixing his eyes steadily on those of his son, ‘if that is your only motive.’ – Orlando, not able to bear the penetrating looks of his father, turned away, and said hastily – ‘Besides, Sir, I wish to enquire after my brother – for, however I affected before my mother to believe he was at Stockton’s, I assure you I do not know he is there, nor have I any guess about him but what makes me uneasy.’ – ‘Go, then,’ replied his father with a deep sigh – ‘but remember, Orlando, that from you I expect sincerity.’ – ‘And you shall not be disappointed, Sir,’ answered Orlando warmly; ‘before I take my leave of you, and ask your last blessing, my heart shall be laid open to you, which I would rather pierce with my own hand than suffer it to harbour ingratitude or dissimulation towards so good a father.’ – Tears were in the eyes of the father and the son. ‘Orlando!’ said Somerive in a faltering voice, ‘go to your mother before you leave the house, and give her all the comfort you can – the absence of your brother overwhelms her with fear and distress; and before we see you to-morrow, my son – for I suppose we shall see you . . .’

  ‘Certainly, Sir! at any time you name.’

  ‘Make that convenient to yourself, Orlando; only, before we do see you, endeavour to find your brother, and persuade him to return, or at least bring us some news of him.’

  Orlando promised he would; and then went to his mother, who had by this time reasoned herself into a more calm state of mind. Having taken leave of her and his sisters for the night, he set out on foot to return to the Hall.

  The night was overcast and gloomy; chill and hollow the wind whistled among the leafless trees, or groaned amid the thick firs in the dark and silent wood; – the water-falls murmured hollow in the blast, and only the owl’s cry broke those dull and melancholy sounds which seemed to say – ‘Orlando, you will revisit these scenes no more!’ He endeavoured to reason himself out of these comfortless presages. He tried to figure to himself the happier days, that never seemed so likely as now to be his, and at no very remote period. Though Mrs Rayland was, from peculiarity of temper, averse to naming her successor, she was not at all likely to hold out hopes she never meant to realize, and certainly she never gave any so strong as what her conversation of that morning had offered. He endeavoured therefore to persuade himself, that the time was not very far distant when, if he was not actually the possessor of Rayland Hall, he should at least have such a competency as should enable him to settle in this his native country with his beloved Monimia. He tried to animate his drooping spirits with the idea that, in the profession into which he was now entering, he might find the means of accelerating this happy period. But then the frightful interval that must intervene occurred to him, with all the possibilities that might happen in it; and the destitute state of Monimia, the ill health of his father (which, though he did not complain, was visible to every body), the unhappy misconduct of his brother, threatening the ruin and dispersion of his family, and the possibility that Mrs Rayland might disappoint the expectations she had raised, all combined to sink and depress him, and again to lend to the well-known paths he was traversing, horrors not their own, while every object repeated – ‘Orlando will revisit these scenes no more!’

  By the time he reached that part of the park from whence the house was visible at a distance, it was quite dark, and, had he not almost instinctively known his way, he could not have discerned it – for no light glimmered from the Gothic windows of the Hall, not even in that part of the house inhabited by the servants; a
nd Orlando imagined that most of them, fatigued the night before, were gone earlier than usual to bed. He fixed his eyes earnestly on Monimia’s turret: – all was dark; and he doubted whether her aunt had not removed her, in consequence of the suspicions that originated in the circumstances of the preceding evening. This apprehension made his spirits sink still more heavily; and when he was within an hundred yards of the house, he stopped, and gazed mournfully on the place, which perhaps no longer contained the object of his affection.

  There is hardly a sensation more painful than the blank that strikes on the heart, when, instead of the light we expect streaming from some beloved spot where our affections are fondly fixed, all is silent and dark. – Ah! how often in life we feel this yet stronger, when the friend on whom we rely becomes suddenly cold and repulsive! Orlando, who was always passionately fond of poetry, recollected the simply descriptive stanza in the ballad of Hardyknute:

  ‘Theirs nae licht in my lady’s bowir,

  Theirs nae licht in the hall;

  Nae blink shynes round my fairly fair –’

  And, like the dismayed hero of the song,

  ‘Black feir he felt, but what to fear

  He wist not zit with dreid.’

  Quiet as every thing appeared round the house, he knew it was earlier than the hour when Mrs Lennard usually locked the door of the Monimia’s apartment for the night; it was possible that she might have detained her niece in her own room longer than was her general custom.