Rosalie was about to answer, but her father, rising and leaving the room, said, with yet more sternness, “I will have no answer, unless it be an answer of compliance.” Then, turning to Mrs. Lessington, he added, “you will not fail to enforce what I have said, and to impress on the mind of this young woman, that, though she has hitherto found me an indulgent father, I know how to make myself be obeyed.” —— He then left the room, and Mrs. Lessington said, “You see, Rose, that your father is peremptory. If Mr. Hughson.......
“Dear Madam, (said Rosalie), what occasion can there be for all these menaces of anger, if I do not listen to Mr. Hughson, when it is not even known whether Mr. Hughson will ever think of me again?”
“Perhaps your father has reasons, with which he may not think proper to acquaint you, why he knows Mr. Hughson means to address you.”
“Very certainly, Madam, Mr. Hughson could not communicate to my father what he could not know himself last night; for so far from being capable of thinking what he intended for the future, he knew not what he was about then: but, admitting it to be so, why must I be compelled to listen to him? Indeed, my dear Mama, this Mr. Hughson is a man it is utterly impossible for me to like.”
“It would be something new, Rose, and altogether unlike the heroines whose adventures you have studied, if you should happen to like the man recommended to you by your friends, and in every respect eligible. Do not think of doing a thing so entirely out of rule, but contrive to take a liking not only to some other man, but, if possible, to the very man to whom of all others it is him possible you can ever be united.”
Rosalie blushed deeply, without exactly knowing why. “Dear Madam, (said she), what a strange thing that is to say?”
“As strange as true, (replied Mrs. Lessington). Its truth, I am much afraid, will be too soon verified; but have a care, I promise you not only that nobody will defend you in this dangerous absurdity, but that it will be the certain means of estranging from you those friends who love you best.......I won’t be interrupted, (added she, seeing her daughter was going to speak), I won’t be interrupted — hear me, and tell me afterwards, whether you who have nothing, you who must go into some humble business, or even, perhaps, to service, if your father should die, have any sort of pretensions to pleasing yourself, even if the people you fancy you prefer were indeed so foolishly inconsistent as to think for a moment of committing such a folly as taking you out of the rank you are in, which, you may be assured, child, never entered their heads, whatever your vanity and your ignorance of the world may have put into yours.”
“For God’s sake, my dear mother! (said Rosalie, with tears in her eyes), what do you mean? This is the first time you ever talked to me in this manner! How I have deserved it now I am entirely ignorant. Did
I ever say I like any particular person? — or — —”
“Pho! pho! (cried Mrs. Lessington, interrupting her), you cannot deceive me; but let me earnestly exhort you, Rosalie, never to think of the persons to whom you know I allude, but to determine to follow, like a reasonable woman, the advice of those who know better what is fit for you than you do yourself.”
Rosalie remained silent. Her soul abhorred the idea of receiving Hughson as a lover, nor could she endure that her mother should for a moment believe her capable of hesitating about him. The conversation she had held, however, was so new, and so strange, that she had not courage to defend herself; and, after a short pause, Mrs. Lessington thus went on: —
“Did you ever know any woman who married just according to their own romantic whims in setting out in life? —— Did I do it, do you think? —— Did Mrs. Vyvian?”
“Of you, Madam, (said Rosalie), I cannot pretend to speak. Mrs. Vyvian certainly did not marry Mr. Vyvian from choice; but has she been happy? — has not her whole life been embittered by the sacrifice she made, as I have heard, to her father’s commands?”
“That was very different, (said Mrs. Lessington). My friend was —— — —” She stopped, as she had often done before when their conversation had been led to the same topic, and then immediately changing it, said, “But you now know my opinion, and your father’s commands. We are going to-day where you will again be in company with Mr. Hughson, and it is expected of you, that you will behave to him as to a friend of your father’s, and a gentleman whose partiality does you honour.”
“Whither am I to go, Madam?” said Rosalie in a dejected tone.
“To Chichester, (replied her mother dryly).....We dine with Mr. Blagham; his uncle is to be there with some other friends; your sister Catharine’s settlement is to be signed; afterwards a party of friends dine with him on venison, and we shall remain there all night, perhaps go to the assembly the night after: you will, therefore, put up a small packet of clothes, and act accordingly.”
From the manner in which this was said, Rosalie knew that no remonstrance against an expedition so very irksome to her would be listened to; and that, however hateful to her, she must obey. She retired, therefore, with an heavy heart to her own room, and began to dress and to prepare for the party.
But her mother’s oblique reproaches had made a great impression on her mind: she imagined they must allude to Mr. Charles Vyvian, or Mr. Montalbert; but probably the former, as her mother could hardly suspect her of a partiality for a man she had not seen since she was ten or eleven years old. In regard to Mr. Vyvian her heart acquitted her; but she was at the same time conscious that nothing could do so great a disservice to Hughson, in her opinion, as putting him a moment in comparison with such a man as Montalbert.
CHAPTER 4
ROSALIE was soon ready to proceed on an expedition, from which she found no pretence would excuse her. She mounted her sister Catharine’s with reluctance; her father, mother, and Miss Lessington, were in the post chaise; the other sister was also on horseback; and it did not add much to Rosalie’s prospect for the day, that this was her sister Maria who had been put out of humour the preceding evening by the unfortunate and undesired preference Hughson had shown Rosalie; and who, now sullen and pouting, endeavoured to show her sister that she had not forgotten the mortification.
They had ascended and were riding along the hill, but the morning being hot and sultry, Rosalie turned her horse towards its edge, where began a wood that shaded one side of it, and the ash and beech afforded a temporary skreen; several roads wound up the hill from the villages below, and as Rosalie was crossing one of these she saw Montalbert suddenly appear, who, approaching her with the common salutation of the morning, rode along by her side without noticing the rest of the party.
Rosalie, conscious that this would give great offense to her father and mother, and unwilling to increase the dislike they seemed already to have taken to him from the little attention he showed to them the preceding evening, inquired if he would not speak to them?
“Bye and bye, (said he coldly); but, good God, is it never possible to have a moment’s conversation with you? — I have a great respect for Mr. and Mrs. Lessington, because they are so nearly related to you, but you know that I have not the pleasure of being acquainted with them.”
There was something of peculiar dejection in the manner of Montalbert as he spoke.
“You are not well?” said Rosalie.
“Not very well, (replied he); but the hot weather of England never agrees with me. There is something strangely oppressive in it. I don’t know whether it is that which has affected poor Charles; but, I assure you, he is seriously ill — so ill, that we do not think of going to-morrow. The Count, being obliged to be in London, left us this morning, as it was uncertain when Charles would be well enough.”
“I am very sorry, (said Rosalie with quickness), it will so distress my dear Mrs. Vyvian! — Has he sent for any advice?”
“It were well worth while to be ill, (said Montalbert), were one sure of exciting interest so tender.”— “But you do not answer me, (said Rosalie, affecting not to hear him). Has Mr. Vyvian sent for Mr. Harrison, the apothecary?”
<
br /> “I believe Mr. Hayward intended it, (replied Montalbert), for the poor old man was frightened out of his wits. Charles, however, opposed it. Perhaps it will be nothing. But you know that his mother has nursed him to death; and that Hayward is as timid as an old woman about him.”
“I am very uneasy, (said Rosalie, pausing a moment). I think I had better tell my mother; she would surely see Mr. Vyvian, as she knows how very wretched her friend would be should her son be ill at a distance from her.” Thus saying, and without waiting for an answer, she rode towards the chaise and bade the driver stop. Montalbert did not go with her, but followed the chaise at some distance.
“Well? — (said Mrs. Lessington sharply, as the chaise stopped) — and what now?”
“Dear Madam, (answered Rosalie in visible consternation), here is Mr. Montalbert, whom I have met by accident, who tells me that Mr. Charles Vyvian is taken very ill?”
“Well? — (cried Mrs. Lessington impatiently) — and what would you have us do?”
“I thought, Madam, (said Rosalie, deeply blushing and speaking quick), I thought you might be alarmed on account of your friend Mrs. Vyvian, and might — might — —”
“I don’t see what we can do, my dear, (said Mr. Lessington). Probably Mr. Hayward has taken proper care of the young gentleman. — I suppose, (added he, addressing himself to Rosalie), since Mr. Montalbert came hither by accident, that Mr. Charles has not sent any message expressing a wish to see your mother?”
“No, Sir,” answered Rosalie.
“Well then, child, there is no call for our interference: I wish him better with all my heart. Rose, you keep up with the chaise — Andrew, drive on, we shall be late.”
Andrew obeyed, and Montalbert, who had very slowly rode on while this conversation lasted, stopped, as the chaise passed, and made a formal bow to the persons in it, but without showing any intention to speak to them. He then rejoined Rosalie, and continued to ride the pace she did forty or fifty yards behind the chaise, complaining of the perverseness of his fate, in her being to stay perhaps several days at Chichester; while she, in her turn, expressed very great uneasiness about Mr. Vyvian, and seemed to attend very little to the unequivocal expressions Montalbert used to impress her with an idea of his own attachment to her. At length they came into the turnpike road. Rosalie saw her father look out repeatedly, as if inquiring with angry countenance, whether Montalbert had left her, which she now entreated him to do. He sighed deeply, and said, in a mournful tone, “And so you are going to that town, and do not return perhaps these two or three days, and before that time we shall have left the country, and I shall see you no more.”
This idea, which seemed so distressing to him, was by no means the pleasantest that could be presented to the imagination of Rosalie. Her heart seemed to re-echo, “I shall see him no more!” but she attempted to smile, and to answer cheerfully, “O yes — I am persuaded we shall meet again.”— “But when? or where? (cried Montalbert, fixing his eyes earnestly on her face). Alas! Miss Lessington, I shall soon leave England; and this, perhaps, is the last time we shall meet!”
“I should be so sorry to believe that, (answered she, hesitating and blushing), that I will not stay to hear it repeated.....Adieu, Sir; fail not to assure your friend of my sincere wishes for his recovery; and tell my dear venerable friend, the Abbé Hayward, how much I lament that we never meet as we used to do.”
Mr. Lessington, now putting his head once more out of the window, waved his hand impatiently for his daughter to keep up with them. Rosalie understood the signal but too well, and though reluctantly, put her horse into a gallop, while Montalbert checked his more reluctantly still; but, as he was on a rising ground, he remained in the same place, following with he eyes the object from which he was so unwilling to part, till a wood, into which the road turned, concealed her from his sight.
Rosalie, in the mean time, proceeded with an heavier heart than she knew how to account for. The illness of Charles Vyvian, which alarmed her not only on his own account, but on that of his mother, and the certainty that she should be compelled to pass two or three days among persons so extremely disagreeable to her, were indeed reasons enough for chagrin; but the concern she felt was something deeper than belonged to either of these. That she had seen Montalbert for the last time, she could not think of without the most acute uneasiness; and so much did that idea dwell on her mind, that she arrived at the end of her journey hardly knowing how she got there: nor was she roused from the indulgence of these painful reflections, till the troublesome assiduities of Hughson restored her to herself, by imposing on her the necessity of repressing his impertinence; which she did, however, with an asperity so unusual to her, that her mother severely reproved her the moment they were alone. “Dear Madam, (said Rosalie), that man is so utterly disagreeable to me: he is so forward, so ignorant — —”
“It is a misfortune to you, child, (answered her mother gravely), that you have lived in a style, and among people who have given you a distaste for those of your own rank. However that may be, (added she, with still greater solemnity), I repeat to you, Rosalie, that you are expected by your father to behave to Mr. Hughson not only as to his particular friend, but as one to whom, if you should be lucky enough to procure him for an husband, would establish you in possession of a fortune much greater than you ever can have the least right to expect.”— “I had rather dedicate my whole life to the most humiliating poverty, Madam, (answered Rosalie with spirit); I had rather not only go to service, but submit to the most laborious offices, even to work in the fields, than condemn myself to become the wife of Mr. Hughson.”
“Very fine, indeed, (said Mrs. Lessington), very romantic, and very sublime. But hear me, Miss Rose: if you are weak, wicked, and vain enough to think, for a moment, of that simple young man Charles Vyvian, which I fear, I greatly fear, that proud coxcomb Montalbert has been putting in your head, know that the most remote hint given of any such —— such an absurd and —— and ridiculous idea, sent to my friend Mrs. Vyvian, would not only put an eternal bar between you, but would for ever ruin you in her good opinion.”
“I think of Mr. Charles Vyvian, Madam, (said Rosalie), no otherwise than as the son of my dear benefactress! — No, indeed, my dear Mama, I never was quite so absurd as to have any other idea!”
“Take care you never are then, (replied her mother), and be not so blind to your own interest, or so deaf to the dictates of common sense, as to throw away, by refusing Mr. Hughson, an opportunity that may never offer again.” Then, perceiving her daughter was about to answer her, she added, “Let us have no more romance, Rosalie, it will answer no purpose, but to irritate your father without changing his resolution. You will dress for dinner. To-morrow there is to be an assembly; it is already settled that we are to go; and, as it is the first time you have been seen there, I desire you will look as well as you can.”
“Gracious Heaven! (exclaimed Rosalie, as soon as her mother had left her), I am thus to be dressed up, and offered like an animal to sale; and my mother seems to think it a matter of course......Oh! Montalbert, how different are your manners from those of the people I am condemned to live among! — Dear and amiable patroness of my happy infancy, little did you imagine, when you were so tenderly kind to your unfortunate Rosalie, that you were laying up for her future years insupportable mortification! — Had I never been blessed in your society, had I never known those who are related to you, I should not now be perpetually making comparisons so much to the disadvantage of persons among whom it is my lot to live, and I should then have been as happy as my sisters.”
Very heavily for Rosalie passed the day. Mr. Hughson was sometimes extremely troublesome; but finding her still cold and repulsive, he now and then tried what could be affected by changing his battery, and affecting to neglect her for her sister, who, in her turn, put on a disdainful air, in evident resentment of the preference he had lately shown Rosalie, who so little desired it.
It was not, however, in the eyes of H
ughson that she appeared the fairest of the rural nymphs from ‘under the hills.’ Others of Mr. Blagham’s acquaintance, who were of their dinner party, made the same discovery, and two of them attempted, during the afternoon, to engage her for the ball of the ensuing evening. She refused them both civilly, but positively.
“Aye, (said one of them, in a whisper), I see how it is — Hughson is the happy man; is it not so, Miss Rose?”
“If you mean, Sir, (answered she coldly), that Mr. Hughson’s happiness is to arise from dancing with me to-morrow, I assure you, you are mistaken.”
“What, you are not engaged to him then?”
“No, Sir; nor shall I engage myself to any body.”
“Hey! — (cried Hughson, rising and skipping across the room) — Hey! — what’s all that? — who talks of engagements? — Hey! — why, I hope, Miss Rosalie, nobody has been pretending to take away my partner; surely you understand, Ma’am, that you are engaged to me?”
“Indeed, Sir, I do not, (replied Rosalie), and I should be sorry you understood it.”
“There! — (cried one of the young men who came from a provincial town in another country), — there! I have still a chance. Sir, (added he, addressing himself very solemnly to Hughson), I’ll tell you what is a rule with us — that is with our ladies — and you know what excellent, genteel, fashionable meetings we have at —— . Sir, it is a rule among the ladies of —— never to engage themselves to a gentleman in a black coat, while they have a chance of being asked by any other, and damme if I don’t think they’re in the right.”
“You think, Sir, (said Hughson, colouring violently and trembling with passion); and pray, Sir — I say — Sir, that is — was there any question asked as to what you, Sir, think, Sir?”
Charlotte Smith- Collected Poetical Works Page 211
