Charlotte Smith- Collected Poetical Works

by Charlotte Smith

  “What daughter? — and oh! for Heaven’s sake, what is the matter?” — were words that were on the point of issuing from Montalbert’s lips, who thought only of Rosalie: when this indiscretion on his part was prevented by Mrs. Lessington’s proceeding to tell him, that her eldest married daughter, who was near her time, had suffered from being overturned in a chaise, and had entreated to see her mother, who had, therefore, hastened from London, where she received the letter, to pack a few necessaries, and was setting out post immediately afterwards for the house of her daughter in Suffex. Montalbert, alarmed lest Rosalie was going too, trembled so much, that he had not courage to ask; but to leave the house without knowing was impossible. Regardless, therefore, of the rules of decorum, which certainly demanded that he should absent himself, he followed Mrs. Lessington into the house, where his sudden reappearance, and the unexpected arrival of her mother, had such an affect on the countenance and manner of Rosalie, as could not have excaped observation, had not Mrs. Lessington and Maria been both much engaged with the immediate preparation for their journey; for amidst her maternal anxiety for her daughter, the elder lady was by no means indifferent to the appearance she was to make among her former country neighbors; and though she was still in deep mourning, she observed that it was not the less necessary to be “tolerably dressed.”

  Miss Maria was of course more solicitous on this important matter than her mother, and in the midst of their giving orders to one to run to the mantua-makers, and another to fetch home a new bonnet, &c. &c. they neither one of them seemed to recollect that it was neccsary to make some arrangement about Rosalie, or even to remember that she was in the house.

  She remained, therefore, a few moments in the parlour with Montalbert, who, advancing trembling to her, inquired eagerly if she also was going? “I think not, (answered she); but my mother, in her hurry, seems totally to have forgotten me.”— “I pray Heaven, (said he), that you may be left behind! If you go, I shall be distracted. When will it be decided? — How can you know?”

  “I had better go up to my mother, (answered Rosalie), offer to assist her, and ask for her commands.” — O hasten, (cried Montalbert), my angel, or I shall die with impatience! — I must stay till I know what is to be your destination, and will make some pretence for my intrusion.” Rosalie then went up to her mother, who seemed to be awakened, by her presence, to some sense of recolletion as to what was to become of her youngest daughter during her absence. “I don’t know, child, (said she), how to take you with us very well, as you brother Blagham is in town for two days on law business, and is desirous of going down with us in a post chaise.” — Rosalie’s heart beat so, that she could hardly breathe.

  “I declare, (continued her mother), I know not how to manage about you. To be sure it will be but a disagreeable journey, and I suppose, my dear, you do not want to go?”

  “If I could be of any use to my sister,” said Rosalie hesitating.

  “Oh! as to that, (answered Mrs. Lessington) there is no occasion to be sure; but it will be lonely for you at home, unless, indeed, Mrs. Vyvian would be so good as to take you.”

  Rosalie knew, from the scene of the preceding morning, that Mrs. Vyvian could not, without the exposing herself anew to the insults of her daughter, which it was painful even to think of.

  This, however, she could not now explain to her mother, who, after a moment’s hesitation, proceeded......”I have a mind to send to Mrs. Vyvian; yet I don’t know — perhaps it will be inconvenient to her. There are times when I know it would be painful to her to have company; — but — let me — see — I dare say my friends the Hillmores would take you for a few days, and then you might come back; and Mrs. Vyvian would, perhaps, nay I am sure she would, have you with her as much as her spirits will allow, and by that time — most probably, you know we should be come back.”

  Though Rosalie knew the Hillmores were the most disagreeable people in the world, she had neither courage to object, nor presence of mind to propose any other plan. She thought she saw in her mother’s manner an evident wish to get her off her hands, on the present occasion, without much solicitude as to the propriety of her situation during her absence; and at that moment she felt happy in the consciousness of being the wife of Montalbert, who would, in every event, defend and protect her.

  She remained silent, however, and Mrs. Lessington, who was still busily engaged in packing, at length turned to her, and said, “Well, child! and what do you say to the plan of passing the little time we shall be away between Mrs. Vyvian and Mr. Hillmore’s?”

  “I know very little of Mr. Hillmore’s family, (said Rosalie timidly); but I dare say, Madam, you are sure they would be kind enough to receive me.”

  “To be sure I am, (replied Mrs. Lessington); and as to Mrs. Vyvian, I wish I could see her myself — but — I have not time. — However — stay — do you think Mr. Montalbert is gone? — I dare say he would be so good as to carry a message for me.”

  “I am persuaded he would, (said Rosalie timidly), if he is not gone.”

  “Do go down and see: no — I will go myself.” She then descended to the room where Montalbert still remained, who, when he heard the commission she gave him to his aunt, accepted it with transport he could with difficulty disguise. “I only waited here, (said he), to know if I could be of any use to you in your present hurry, and you cannot oblige me more than in employing me.” He then hastened to Mrs. Vyvian, to whom he delivered a message rather suited to his own purposes than very exact as to correctness, and modulating Mrs. Vyvian’s answer in the same way, he returned instantly to Mrs. Lessington, who, concluding the disposal of Rosalie settled her own way, told her she would leave a note for her friends the Hillmores, which she hastliy wrote, and then directed Rosalie to stay a few hours after her to adjust the house and put every thing away, which her present hurry did not allow her to attend to. After which an hackney-coach was to convey Rosalie to Mincing Lane, where Mr. Hillmore lived, and she was herself to deliver the note that was to secure her reception for the first three or four days of her mother’s absence; after which, if that absence continued, she was to return and remain under the protection of Mrs. Vyvian.

  This arrangement was so exactly calculated to answer all the wishes of Montalbert, that he now trembled with apprehension lest it should be revoked. He would not, however, venture to stay, lest Mrs. Lessington should entertain any suspicions of the cause of his extraordinary zeal; he therefore wished her a good journey, and left her. Soon after which Rosalie saw her mother and sister get into a post-chaise, which was ordered to stop to take up Mr. Blagham at the house of a friend at Islington, and then they drove away, leaving her to reflect on the extraordinary circumstances that had thus left her at liberty, and to await with a beating heart the return of Montalbert.

  In less than half an hour he appeared, and telling the maid who opened the door that he brought a message from Mrs. Vyvian, he was admitted. As nothing was so easy as for Rosalie to leave the house with her clothes under the directions her mother had given her, nor less hazardous than to postpone her visit to Mr. Hillmore’s family for a day or two, Montalbert vanquished every objection she made to going with him; the hackney-coach, therefore, that was to have conveyed her to Mincing Lane, and in which she did not set out till towards evening, went no further than to the suburbs of London, where Montalbert waited for her with another, from whence they got into a post-chaise, and were soon at a distance from London.

  Thither, however, it was necessary that Rosalie should return in two days at the farthest, least her mother direct to her there, and her absence should be discovered. It was long before Montalbert would listen to her earnest representations of this subject: but there was no alternative; he must either tear himself from her, or suffer it to be known that she had eloped, nor could it long remain a secret with whom. Her representations were so forcible, and he felt them to be so just, that his reluctance at length gave way to the considerations of his wife’s traquility, and he consente
d to her return to town, whither he conducted her, and putting her into a coach, followed it at a distance on foot, till it set her down at the house of her mother’s friends.

  But as Mrs. Vyvian had no acquaintance or communication with this family, the principal of whom was an attorney in the city, nothing was more easy than to conceal the day on which she left their house, as she had concealed the time when her mother intended her visit should begin to them. This, how ever, depended on the return of Mrs. Lessington.

  Rosalie, on her arrival at the house of Mr. Hillmore, found a very cordial reception; but the manners of the whole family were so unlike those she had in the happiest part of her life been accustomed to — the old lady was so vulgarly civil, the young men so impertinently familiar, and the misses so full of flutter and fashions, — that Rosalie forsaw she would be esteemed very bad company. They had already, from the report of Miss Maria, entertained an idea that their guest was proud and reserved; and Rosalie saw by their manner, that they disliked her and wished her away. The mother, because she feared her beauty might attract one of her sons; the daughters, through jealousy of their lovers. The next day after her arrival there she received a letter from her mother, which informed her that though Mrs. Grierson was doing well, yet it would be ten days before she should return. Rosalie, therefore, armed herself with patience, to pass a few days longer where she was before she returned to Hampstead, but Montalbert could not suffer her to remain there without seeing her. As he was not known to the people of the house, he called under pretence of a message from Mrs. Vyvian, but he could only see her in a formal way in the presence of Mrs. Hillmore and her daughters, who prodigiously admired him as a very elegant genteel man indeed. — He found they were going that evening to the play, where he determined to be himself.

  It was then that he saw the superior beauty of Rosalie attract all eyes, and heard inquiries around him, who that lovely girl was in mourning? The faces of the Miss Hillmores were well known, though their party would have passed wholly unnoticed, but for the brilliant star that now first appeared among them. Montalbert, from the other side of the house, enjoyed a particular kind of pleasure at the admiration excited by his wife: but one of the foibles of his temper was jealousy; when therefore he saw two or three young men, acquaintances of the Hillmores, enter their box, evidently with a design of being introduced to her; when he saw young Hillmore, who was a sort of city wit and city buck, displace one of his sisters in order to sit near Rosalie, he could remain where he was no longer; but crossing the house, went into the next box, where he sat the remainder of the evening, not near enough to speak to her, so entirely was she surrounded; but suffering inexpressible torments because she was spoken to by others.

  His impetuous spirit could ill submit to a longer course of such punishment. He went out, therefore, to a tavern, a few moments before the play was over, and wrote a note to her, in which he insisted on her leaving the Hillmores the next morning. “I will send a sevant, (said he), with a chariot and a letter, as if from from Mrs. Vyvian........As the people you are with know neither her carriage nor her writing, you may very easily leave them without the least suspicion. I will take care of the rest; but remember, Rosalie, I must not be refused — I would not leave you exposed another day to the impertinence of the vulgar puppies you are surrounded by to be master of an empire.”

  Montalbert, having sealed this letter, waited at the door of the box for her coming out; but as she had on each side of her competitors for the honour of leading her out, it was not without difficulty he found an opportunity of giving it to her.

  The next day an handsome chariot, with a servant in livery, was at the door of Mr. Hillmore by eleven o’clock; the latter brought a note apparently from Mrs. Vyvian, which Rosalie showed as a reason for leaving Mrs. Hillmore, who, while she expressed great concern that they were so soon to lose the pleasure of her good company, was, as well as the young ladies, heartily glad to see her depart. A short time brought her to a place where Montalbert waited for her to begin another short excursion from London. He endeavoured to appease the excessive fear she expressed, lest these journies should be discovered, by assuring her that he had taken every possible precaution to prevent it. That Mrs. Vyvian did not expect her for two or three days, at the end of which time he promised she should go back to Hampstead, and he had engaged a person to convey to him any letters that might arrive in the mean time from Mrs. Lessington, lest, from any alteration in her plan, she should return and not find her daughter where she expected. —— These measures, and Montalbert’s solemn assurances, that as soon as he saw her once more safe under the protection of her mother, he would no longer delay a journey which was so necessary on account of his own, and that he would force hmself, though at the expence of his present felicity, to pusue such measures as might secure uninterrupted possession hereafter.

  CHAPTER 11

  WHILE Rosalie was thus, as Mrs. Vyvian believed, passing part of the time of her mother’s absence as she had directed, that excellent but unhappy woman, Mrs. Vyvian herself, was suffering under the most acute anxiety. The absence of her son, the estrangement of her two daughters, and the cold and even severe conduct of the man to whom she had been sacrificed, made together a cruel combination of evils; which, however, did not so entirely occupy her mind, but that she felt for Rosalie, to whom she had ever shown the tenderest partiality, and to whom she would with delight have granted an asylum in her own house, had she not been deterred by the envy and ill-humour which her daughters had expressed, and terrified at the hints they had given of an affection for her on the part of her son, which, if it should once reach the ears of Mr. Vyvian, would, she knew, so greatly enrage him, that he would forbid her ever receiving any of the Lessington family again. Timid and mild, and with nerves shaken and enfeebled by a long course of unhappiness, Mrs. Vyvian was unequal to contention with a violent, haughty, and unfeeling man, who disdained to listen to reason, and held all friendly attachments, every thing that did not coincide with self-interested motives, to be mere cant and pretence. He had never considered the Lessington family with an eye of favour; but while Lessington lived, he had been useful to him in electioneering matters, and therefore he, and of course his family, had been endured; but the apprehension of any attachment between young Vyvian and a person whom his father considered so infinitely beneath him, would not have been suffered a moment, and Mrs. Vyvian knew that on the slightest suspicion she should be overwhelmed with menaces and reproaches, which she found herself altogether unable to sustain. This dread alone prevented her from hazarding a repetition of the language her daughters had held, and compelled her to submit to so great a deprivation as that of often resigning Rosalie’s company, whose interesting gratitude, and innocent, yet sensible, conversation, formed one of her greatest pleasures, and was best calculated to soothe her wounded heart.

  Still, however, she was uneasy that so young and so pretty a woman should be consigned to the care of people of whom she had no very high opinion. She fancied they were low bred, and was persuaded that if the morals of Rosalie were in no danger among them, her delicacy of mind must suffer from the style of such company: when, therefore, she saw Montalbert, who, while Rosalie was really at Mr. Hillmore’s, called upon his aunt as usual lest his absence might be remarked, she continually questioned him about these people, and he, not willing to appear to know much about them, gave her such answers as served rather to increase her solicitude for her former protegéee, and her regret that she could not give her protection in her own house.

  Montalbert never loved his aunt so well as when he thus saw her interestd for Rosalie; and sometimes it seemed as if this interest was so strong, that she could not be angry at finding his sentiments so entirely agreed with hers. Half resolved to open his whole heart to her, and entreat her countenance, her protection, for his wife, he sat meditating what to say, when the entrance of Mr. Hayward, or some sentence Mrs. Vyvian uttered, again shook his resolution, and deterred him from entrusting to
her a secret of so much consequence; while, if it still remained a secret to every body but to her, his Rosalie could derive no benefits from the partial information, for Mrs. Vyvian would still be deprived of the power of receiving her as Rosalie Lessington, and as the wife of Montalbert it would be still more impossible.

  It was now time for her to return to Hampstead, where all Mrs. Vyvian could do was to receive her on those days when none of her own family were likely to call upon her, or if they did, to send her into another room. Montalbert, during the four or five days that were to be the last of his stay in England, passed a part of each with Mrs. Vyvian, who, while she thought it her duty to press him to begin a journey that had been so long delayed, began to be seriously uneasy about his health, which she thought was evidently declined. He was pensive and absent, spoke little, and had lost his appetite — symptoms that she fancied indicated a decline, and induced her to urge him with increased earnestness to begin his journey, in the persuasion that the winter in England was inimical to his constitution. Montalbert every day promised to fix the day of his departure; but every day brought with it some excuse: — his baggage, some things he had bespoke as presents to his Italian friends, were not ready; his own servant was taken ill; he must wait the arrival of a friend from the country, with whom he had business relative to his family’s northern property — and while this went on, he lived in a miserable state of restraint, never seeing his wife but for a short time in the presence of Mrs. Vyvian, unless she happened to be there of an evening, in which case he went home with her, but attended by a servant, under pretence that his horses were at a stable not far from the house of Mrs. Lessington.