by Jane Austen
“That would be very fortunate indeed.”
“And Miss Esther must marry somebody of fortune, too. She must get a rich husband. Ah, young ladies that have no money are very much to be pitied! But,” after a short pause, “if Miss Esther thinks to talk me into inviting them to come and stay at Sanditon House, she will find herself mistaken. Matters are altered with me since last summer, you know. I have Miss Clara with me now which makes a great difference.” She spoke this so seriously that Charlotte instantly saw in it the evidence of real penetration and prepared for some fuller remarks but it was followed only by, “I have no fancy for having my house as full as an hotel. I should not choose to have my two housemaids’ time taken up all the morning in dusting out bedrooms. They have Miss Clara’s room to put to rights as well as my own every day. If they had hard places, they would want higher wages.” For objections of this nature, Charlotte was not prepared. She found it so impossible even to affect sympathy that she could say nothing. Lady Denham soon added, with great glee,“And besides all this, my dear, am I to be filling my house to the prejudice of Sanditon? If people want to be by the sea, why don’t they take lodgings? Here are a great many empty houses, three on this very Terrace. No fewer than three lodging papers staring me in the face at this very moment; numbers three, four, and eight. Eight, the corner house, may be too large for them, but either of the two others are nice little snug houses, very fit for a young gentleman and his sister.And so, my dear, the next time Miss Esther begins talking about the dampness of Denham Park and the good bathing always does her, I shall advise them to come and take one of these lodgings for a fortnight. Don’t you think that will be very fair? Charity begins at home, you know.”
Charlotte’s feelings were divided between amusement and indignation, but indignation had the larger and the increasing share. She kept her countenance and she kept a civil silence. She could not carry her forbearance farther, but without attempting to listen longer, and only conscious that Lady Denham was still talking on in the same way, allowed her thoughts to form themselves into such a meditation as this: “She is thoroughly mean. I had not expected anything so bad, Mr. Parker spoke too mildly of her. His judgment is evidently not to be trusted. His own good nature misleads him. He is too kindhearted to see clearly. I must judge for myself. And their very connection prejudices him. He has persuaded her to engage in the same speculation, and because their object in that line is the same, he fancies she feels like him in others. But she is very, very mean. I can see no good in her. Poor Miss Brereton! And she makes everybody mean about her. This poor Sir Edward and his sister! How far nature meant them to be respectable I cannot tell but they are obliged to be mean in their servility to her. And I am mean, too, in giving her my attention with the appearance of coinciding with her.Thus it is, when rich people are sordid.”
The two ladies continued walking together till, rejoined by the others, who, as they issued from the library, were followed by a young Whitby running off with five volumes under his arm to Sir Edward’s gig and Sir Edward, approaching Charlotte, said, “You may perceive what has been our occupation. My sister wanted my counsel in the selection of some books. We have many leisure hours and read a great deal. I am no indiscriminate novel reader. The mere trash of the common circulating library I hold in the highest contempt.You will never hear me advocating those puerile emanations which detail nothing but discordant principles incapable of amalgamation, or those vapid tissues of ordinary occurrences from which no useful deductions can be drawn. In vain may we put them into a literary alembic.We distill nothing that can add to science.You understand me, I am sure?”
“I am not quite certain that I do. But if you will describe the sort of novels which you do approve, I daresay it will give me a clearer idea.”
“Most willingly, fair questioner.The novels which I approve are such as display human nature with grandeur; such as show her in the sublimities of intense feeling, such as exhibit the progress of strong passion from the first germ of incipient susceptibility to the utmost energies of reason half-dethroned, where we see the strong spark of woman’s captivations elicit such fire in the soul of man as leads him, though at the risk of some aberration from the strict line of primitive obligations, to hazard all, dare all, achieve all to obtain her. Such are the works which I peruse with delight and, I hope I may say, with amelioration. They hold forth the most splendid portraitures of high conceptions, unbounded views, illimitable ardor, indomitable decision. And even when the event is mainly anti-prosperous to the high-toned machinations of the prime character the potent, pervading hero of the story, it leaves us full of generous emotions for him; our hearts are paralyzed. It would be pseudo-philosophy to assert that we do not feel more enwrapped by the brilliancy of his career than by the tranquil and morbid virtues of any opposing character. Our approbation of the latter is but eleemosynary. These are the novels which enlarge the primitive capabilities of the heart and it cannot impugn the sense or be any dereliction of the character of the most anti-puerile man, to be conversant with them.
“If I understand you aright,” said Charlotte,“our taste in novels is not at all the same.” And here they were obliged to part, Miss Denham being much too tired of them all to stay any longer.The truth was that Sir Edward, who circumstances had confined very much to one spot, had read more sentimental novels than agreed with him. His fancy had been early caught by all the impassioned and most exceptionable parts of Richardson’s. And such authors as had since appeared to tread in Richardson’s steps (so far as man’s determined pursuit of woman in defiance of every opposition of feeling and convenience was concerned) had since occupied the greater part of his literary hours, and formed his character.With a perversity of judgment that must be attributed to his not having by nature a very strong head, the graces, the spirit, the sagacity, and the perseverance of the villain of the story outweighed all his absurdities and all his atrocities with Sir Edward. With him such conduct was genius, fire, and feeling. It interested and inflamed him.And he was always more anxious for its success, and mourned over its discomfitures with more tenderness, than could ever have been contemplated by the authors. Though he owed many of his ideas to this sort of reading, it would be unjust to say that he read nothing else or that his language was not formed on a more general knowledge of modern literature. He read all the essays, letters, tours, and criticisms of the day; and with the same ill-luck which made him derive only false principles from lessons of morality, and incentives to vice from the history of its overthrow, he gathered only hard words and involved sentences from the style of our most approved writers.
Sir Edward’s great object in life was to be seductive.With such personal advantages as he knew himself to possess, and such talents as he did also give himself credit for, he regarded it as his duty. He felt that he was affirmed to be a dangerous man, quite in the line of the Lovelaces. The very name of Sir Edward, he thought, carried some degree of fascination with it. To be generally gallant and assiduous about the fair, to make fine speeches to every pretty girl, was but the inferior part of the character he had to play. Miss Heywood, or any other young woman with any pretensions to beauty, he was entitled, according to his own views of society, to approach with high compliment and rhapsody on the slightest acquaintance.
But it was Clara alone on whom he had serious designs. It was Clara whom he meant to seduce. Her seduction was quite determined on. Her situation in every way called for it. She was his rival in Lady Denham’s favor, she was young, lovely, and dependent. He had very early seen the necessity of the case, and had now been long trying with cautious assiduity to make an impression on her heart and to undermine her principles. Clara saw through him and had not the least intention of being seduced but she bore with him patiently enough to confirm the sort of attachment that her personal charms had raised.A greater degree of discouragement indeed would not have affected Sir Edward. He was armed against the highest pitch of disdain or aversion. If she could not be won by affection, h
e must carry her off. He knew his business. Already had he had many musings on the subject. If he were constrained so to act, he must naturally wish to strike out something new, to exceed those who had gone before him and he felt a strong curiosity to ascertain whether the neighborhood of Timbuktu might not afford some solitary house adapted for Clara’s reception. But the expense, alas! of measures in that masterly style was ill-suited to his purse and prudence obliged him to prefer the quietest sort of ruin and disgrace for the object of his affections to the more renowned.
CHAPTER 8
One day, soon after Charlotte’s arrival at Sanditon she had the pleasure of seeing, just as she ascended from the sands to the Terrace, a gentleman’s carriage with post horses standing at the door of the hotel, as very lately arrived and by the quantity of luggage being taken off bringing, it might be hoped, some respectable family determined on a long residence. Delighted to have such good news for Mr. and Mrs. Parker, who had both gone home some time before, she proceeded to Trafalgar House with as much alacrity as could remain after having contended for the last two hours with a very fine wind blowing directly onshore.
But she had not reached the little lawn when she saw a lady walking nimbly behind her at no great distance and, convinced that it could be no acquaintance of her own, she resolved to hurry on and get into the house, if possible, before her. But the stranger’s pace did not allow this to be accomplished. Charlotte was on the steps and had rung, but the door was not open when the other crossed the lawn and when the servant appeared, they were just equally ready for entering the house. The ease of the lady, her “How do you do, Morgan?” and Morgan’s looks on seeing her were a moment’s astonishment but another moment brought Mr. Parker into the hall to welcome the sister he had seen from the drawing room and Charlotte was soon introduced to Miss Diana Parker.There was a great deal of surprise but still more pleasure in seeing her. Nothing could be kinder than her reception from both husband and wife. How did she come? And with whom? And they were so glad to find her equal to the journey! And that she was to belong to them was taken as a matter of course.
Miss Diana Parker was about four and thirty, of middling height and slender, delicate looking rather than sickly with an agreeable face and a very animated eye, her manners resembling her brother’s in their ease and frankness, though with more decision and less mildness in her tone. She began an account of herself without delay.Thanking them for their invitation but that was,“quite out of the question for they were all three come and meant to get into lodgings and make some stay.”
“All three come! What! Susan and Arthur! Susan able to come too!” This was better and better.
“Yes, we are actually all come. Cite unavoidable. Nothing else to be done.You shall hear all about it. But my dear Mary, send for the children. I long to see them.”
“And how has Susan borne the journey? And how is Arthur? And why do we not see him here with you?”
“Susan has borne it wonderfully. She had not a wink of sleep either the night before we set out or last night at Chichester, and, as this is not so common with her as with me, I have had a thousand fears for her. But she has kept up wonderfully, no hysterics of consequence till we came within sight of poor old Sanditon and the attack was not very violent, nearly over by the time we reached your hotel so that we got her out of the carriage extremely well with only Mr.Woodcock’s assistance. And when I left her she was directing the disposal of the luggage and helping old Sam uncord the trunks. She desired her best love with a thousand regrets at being so poor a creature that she could not come with me. And as for poor Arthur, he would not have been unwilling himself, but there is so much wind that I did not think he could safely venture, for I am sure there is lumbago hanging about him, and so I helped him on with his greatcoat and sent him off to the Terrace to take us lodgings. Miss Heywood must have seen our carriage standing at the hotel. I knew Miss Heywood the moment I saw her before me on the down. My dear Tom, I am so glad to see you walk so well. Let me feel your ankle.That’s right.All right and clean.The play of your sinews a very little affected, barely perceptible. Well, now for the explanation of my being here. I told you in my letter of the two considerable families I was hoping to secure for you, the West Indians and the seminary.”
Here Mr. Parker drew his chair still nearer to his sister and took her hand again most affectionately as he answered, “Yes, yes, how active and how kind you have been!”
“The West Indians,” she continued, “whom I look upon as the most desirable of the two, as the best of the good, prove to be a Mrs. Griffiths and her family. I know them only through others. You must have heard me mention Miss Capper, the particular friend of my very particular friend Fanny Noyce. Now, Miss Capper is extremely intimate with a Mrs. Darling, who is on terms of constant correspondence with Mrs. Griffiths herself. Only a short chain, you see, between us, and not a link wanting. Mrs. Griffiths meant to go to the sea for her young people’s benefit, had fixed on the coast of Sussex but was undecided as to the where, wanted something private, and wrote to ask the opinion of her friend Mrs. Darling. Miss Capper happened to be staying with Mrs. Darling when Mrs. Griffiths’s letter arrived and was consulted on the question. She wrote the same day to Fanny Noyce and mentioned it to her and Fanny, all alive for us, instantly took up her pen and forwarded the circumstance to me, except as to names, which have but lately transpired.There was but one thing for me to do. I answered Fanny’s letter by the same post and pressed for the recommendation of Sanditon. Fanny had feared your having no house large enough to receive such a family. But I seem to be spinning out my story to an endless length.You see how it was all managed. I had the pleasure of hearing soon afterward by the same simple link of connection that Sanditon had been recommended by Mrs. Darling, and that the West Indians were very much disposed to go thither.This was the state of the case when I wrote to you. But two days ago, yes, the day before yesterday I heard again from Fanny Noyce, saying that she had heard from Miss Capper, who by a letter from Mrs. Darling understood that Mrs. Griffiths had expressed herself in a letter to Mrs. Darling more doubtingly on the subject of Sanditon. Am I clear? I would be anything rather than not clear.”
“Oh, perfectly, perfectly.Well?”
“The reason of this hesitation was her having no connections in the place, and no means of ascertaining that she should have good accommodations on arriving there and she was particularly careful and scrupulous on all those matters more on account of a certain Miss Lambe, a young lady, probably a niece, under her care than on her own account or her daughters. Miss Lambe has an immense fortune, richer than all the rest, and very delicate health. One sees clearly enough by all this the sort of woman Mrs. Griffiths must be, as helpless and indolent as wealth and a hot climate are apt to make us. But we are not born to equal energy. What was to be done? I had a few moments’ indecision, whether to offer to write to you or to Mrs. Whitby to secure them a house but neither pleased me. I hate to employ others when I am equal to act myself and my conscience told me that this was an occasion that called for me. Here was a family of helpless invalids whom I might essentially serve. I sounded Susan. The same thought had occurred to her. Arthur made no difficulties. Our plan was arranged immediately, we were off yesterday morning at six, left Chichester at the same hour today … and here we are.”
“Excellent! Excellent!” cried Mr. Parker. “Diana, you are unequaled in serving your friends and doing good to all the world. I know nobody like you. Mary, my love, is not she a wonderful creature? Well, and now, what house do you design to engage for them? What is the size of their family?”
“I do not at all know,” replied his sister,“have not the least idea, never heard any particulars but I am very sure that the largest house at Sanditon cannot be too large.They are more likely to want a second. I shall take only one, however, and that but for a week certain. Miss Heywood, I astonish you.You hardly know what to make of me. I see by your looks that you are not used to such quick measures.”
<
br /> The words “unaccountable officiousness!” and “activity run mad!” had just passed through Charlotte’s mind, but a civil answer was easy.“I daresay I do look surprised,” said she,“because these are very great exertions, and I know what invalids both you and your sister are.”
“Invalids, indeed. I trust there are not three people in England who have so sad a right to that appellation! But my dear Miss Heywood, we are sent into this world to be as extensively useful as possible, and where some degree of strength of mind is given, it is not a feeble body that will excuse us or incline us to excuse ourselves.The world is pretty much divided between the weak of mind and the strong; between those who can act and those who cannot; and it is the bounden duty of the capable to let no opportunity of being useful escape them. My sister’s complaints and mine are, happily, not often of a nature to threaten existence immediately. And as long as we can exert ourselves to be of use to others, I am convinced that the body is the better for the refreshment the mind receives in doing its duty.While I have been traveling with this object in view, I have been perfectly well.”
The entrance of the children ended this little panegyric on her own disposition and, after having noticed and caressed them all, she prepared to go.
“Cannot you dine with us? Is not it possible to prevail on you to dine with us?” was then the cry. And that being absolutely negatived, it was, “And when shall we see you again? And how can we be of use to you?” And Mr. Parker warmly offered his assistance in taking the house for Mrs. Griffiths. “I will come to you the moment I have dined,” said he,“and we will go about together.”
