‘Pray, Sir,’ said Miss Branghton, moving a chair towards him, ‘won’t you sit down yourself?’
‘You are extremely good, Ma’am: – rather than make any disturbance – ’
And so saying, this strange man seated himself, as did, in an instant, every body else, even Madame Duval herself, who, overpowered by his boldness, seemed too full for utterance.
He then, and with as much composure as if he had been an expected guest, began to discourse on the weather, – its uncertainty, – the heat of the public places in summer, – the emptiness of the town, – and other such common topics.
Nobody, however, answered him; Mr Smith seemed afraid, young Branghton ashamed, M. Du Bois amazed, Madame Duval enraged, and myself determined not to interfere. All that he could obtain, was the notice of Miss Branghton, whose nods, smiles, and attention, had some appearance of entering into conversation with him.
At length, growing tired, I suppose, of engaging every body’s eyes, and nobody’s tongue; addressing himself to Madame Duval and to me, he said, ‘I regard myself as peculiarly unfortunate, Ladies, in having fixed upon a time for my visit to Howard Grove, when you are absent from it.’
‘So I suppose, Sir, so I suppose,’ cried Madame Duval, hastily rising, and the next moment as hastily seating herself, – ‘you’ll be a-wanting of somebody to make your game of, and so you may think to get me there again; – but, I promise you, Sir, you won’t find it so easy a matter to make me a fool: and besides that,’ raising her voice, ‘I’ve found you out, I assure you; so if ever you go to play your tricks upon me again, I’ll make no more ado, but go directly to a justice of peace; so, Sir, if you can’t think of nothing but making people ride about the country, at all hours of the night, just for your diversion, why you’ll find I know some justices, as well as Justice Tyrell.’
Sir Clement was evidently embarrassed at this attack; yet he affected a look of surprise, and protested he did not understand her meaning.
‘Well,’ cried she, ‘if I don’t wonder where people can get such impudence! if you’ll say that, you’ll say any thing; however, if you swear till you’re black in the face, I sha’n’t believe you; for nobody sha’n’t persuade me out of my senses, that I’m resolved.’
‘Doubtless not, Madam,’ answered he with some hesitation, ‘and I hope you do not suspect I ever had such an intention; my respect for you – ’
‘O Sir, you’re vastly polite, all of a sudden! but I know what it’s all for; – it’s only for what you can get! – you could treat me like nobody at Howard Grove – but now you see I’ve a house of my own you’re a mind to wheedle yourself into it; but I sees your design, so you need n’t trouble yourself to take no more trouble about that, for you shall never get nothing at my house, – not so much as a dish of tea: – so now, Sir, you see I can play you trick for trick.’
There was something so extremely gross in this speech, that it even disconcerted Sir Clement, who was too much confounded to make any answer.
It was curious to observe the effect which his embarrassment, added to the freedom with which Madame Duval addressed him, had upon the rest of the company: every one, who, before, seemed at a loss how, or if at all, to occupy a chair, now filled it with the most easy composure: and Mr Smith, whose countenance had exhibited the most striking picture of mortified envy, now began to recover his usual expression of satisfied conceit. Young Branghton, too, who had been apparently awed by the presence of so fine a gentleman, was again himself, rude and familiar; while his mouth was wide distended into a broad grin, at hearing his aunt give the beau such a trimming.
Madame Duval encouraged by this success, looked around her with an air of triumph, and continued her harangue: ‘And so, Sir, I suppose you thought to have had it all your own way, and to have comed here as often as you pleased, and to have got me to Howard Grove again, on purpose to have served me as you did before; but you shall see I’m as cunning as you, so you may go and find somebody else to use in that manner, and to put your mask on, and to make a fool of; for as to me, if you go to tell me your stories about the Tower again, for a month together, I’ll never believe ’em no more; and I’ll promise you, Sir, if you think I like such jokes, you’ll find I’m no such person.’
‘I assure you, Ma’am, – upon my honour – I really don’t comprehend – I fancy there is some misunderstanding – ’
‘What, I suppose you’ll tell me next you don’t know nothing of the matter?’
‘Not a word, upon my honour.’
O Sir Clement! thought I, is it thus you prize your honour!
‘Pardi,’ cried Madame Duval, ‘this is the most provokingest part of all! why you might as well tell me I don’t know my own name.’
‘Here is certainly some mistake; for I assure you, Ma’am – ’
‘Don’t assure me nothing,’ cried Madame Duval, raising her voice, ‘I know what I’m saying, and so do you too; for did not you tell me all that about the Tower, and about M. Du Bois? – why M. Du Bois was n’t never there, nor nigh it, and so it was all your own invention.’
‘May there not be two persons of the same name? the mistake was but natural. – ’
‘Don’t tell me of no mistake, for it was all on purpose; besides, did not you come, all in a mask, to the chariot-door, and help to get me put in that ditch? – I’ll promise you, I’ve had the greatest mind in the world to take the law of you ever since, and if ever you do as much again, so I will, I assure you!’
Here Miss Branghton tittered; Mr Smith smiled contemptuously, and young Branghton thrust his handkerchief into his mouth to stop his laughter.
The situation of Sir Clement, who saw all that passed, became now very awkward, even to himself, and he stammered very much in saying, ‘Surely, Madam – surely you – you cannot do me the – the injustice to think – that I had any share in the – the – the misfortune which – ’
‘Ma foi, Sir,’ cried Madame Duval, with increasing passion, ‘you’d best not stand talking to me at that rate; I know it was you, – and if you stay there a-provoking me in such a manner, I’ll send for a constable this minute.’
Young Branghton, at these words, in spite of all his efforts, burst into a loud laugh; nor could either his sister, or Mr Smith, though with more moderation, forbear joining in his mirth.
Sir Clement darted his eyes towards them, with looks of the most angry contempt, and then told Madame Duval, that he would not now detain her to make his vindication, but would wait on her some time when she was alone.
‘O pardi, Sir,’ cried she, ‘I don’t desire none of your company; and if you was n’t the most boldest person in the world, you would not dare look me in the face.’
The ha, ha, ha’s, and he, he, he’s, grew more and more uncontroulable, as if the restraint from which they had burst, had added to their violence. Sir Clement could no longer endure being the object who excited them, and, having no answer ready for Madame Duval, he hastily stalked towards Mr Smith and young Branghton, and sternly demanded what they laughed at?
Struck by the air of importance which he assumed, and alarmed at the angry tone of his voice, their merriment ceased, as instantaneously as if it had been directed by clock work, and they stared foolishly, now at him, now at each other, without making any answer but a simple ‘Nothing, Sir!’
‘O pour le coup,’ cried Madame Duval, ‘this is too much! pray, Sir, what business have you to come here, a-ordering people that comes to see me. I suppose next, nobody must laugh but yourself!’
‘With me, Madam,’ said Sir Clement, bowing, ‘a lady may do any thing, and, consequently, there is no liberty in which I shall not be happy to indulge you: – but it has never been my custom to give the same licence to gentlemen.’
Then, advancing to me, who had sat very quietly, on a window, during this scene, he said, ‘Miss Anville, I may at least acquaint our friends at Howard Grove, that I had the honour of leaving you in good health.’ And then, lowering his voice, he added, ‘For He
aven’s sake, my dearest creature, who are these people? and how came you so strangely situated?’
‘I beg my respects to all the family, Sir,’ answered I, aloud, ‘and I hope you will find them well.’
He looked at me reproachfully, but kissed my hand; and then, bowing to Madame Duval and Miss Branghton, passed hastily by the men, and made his exit.
I fancy he will not be very eager to repeat his visits, for I should imagine he has rarely, if ever, been before in a situation so awkward and disagreeable.
Madame Duval has been all spirits and exultation ever since he went, and only wishes Captain Mirvan would call, that she might do the same by him. Mr Smith, upon hearing that he was a Baronet, and seeing him drive off in a very beautiful chariot, declared that he would not have laughed upon any account, had he known his rank, and regretted extremely having missed such an opportunity of making so genteel an acquaintance. Young Branghton vowed, that, if he had known as much, he would have asked for his custom: and his sister has sung his praises ever since, protesting she thought, all along, he was a man of quality by his look.
Letter Seventeen
Evelina in continuation
June 21
The last three evenings have passed tolerably quiet, for the Vauxhall adventures had given Madame Duval a surfeit of public places: home, however, soon growing tiresome, she determined to-night, she said, to relieve her ennui, by some amusement; and it was therefore settled that we should call upon the Branghtons, at their house, and thence proceed to Marybone Gardens.
But, before we reached Snow Hill, we were caught in a shower of rain: we hurried into the shop, where the first object I saw was Mr Macartney, with a book in his hand, seated in the same corner where I saw him last; but his looks were still more wretched than before, his face yet thinner, and his eyes sunk almost hollow into his head. He lifted them up as we entered, and I even thought that they emitted a gleam of joy: involuntarily, I made to him my first courtsie; he rose and bowed, with a precipitation that manifested surprise and confusion.
In a few minutes, we were joined by all the family, except Mr Smith, who fortunately was engaged.
Had all the future prosperity of our lives depended upon the good or bad weather of this evening, it could not have been treated as a subject of greater importance. ‘Sure never any thing was so unlucky! – ’ ‘Lord how provoking! – ’ ‘It might rain for ever, if it would hold up now! – ’ These, and such expressions, with many anxious observations upon the kennels, filled up all the conversation till the shower was over.
And then a very warm debate arose, whether we should pursue our plan, or defer it to some finer evening; the Miss Branghtons were for the former; their father was sure it would rain again; Madame Duval, though she detested returning home, yet dreaded the dampness of the gardens.
M. Du Bois then proposed going to the top of the house, to examine whether the clouds looked threatening or peaceable; Miss Branghton, starting at this proposal, said they might go to Mr Macartney’s room, if they would, but not to hers.
This was enough for the brother; who, with a loud laugh, declared he would have some fun, and immediately led the way, calling to us all to follow. His sisters both ran after him, but no one else moved.
In a few minutes, young Branghton, coming half-way down stairs, called out, ‘Lord, why don’t you all come? why here’s Poll’s things all about the room!’
Mr Branghton then went, and Madame Duval, who cannot bear to be excluded from whatever is going forward, was handed up stairs by M. Du Bois.
I hesitated a few moments, whether or not to join them; but, soon perceiving that Mr Macartney had dropped his book, and that I engrossed his whole attention, I prepared, from mere embarrasment, to follow them.
As I went, I heard him move from his chair, and walk slowly after me. Believing that he wished to speak to me, and earnestly desiring myself to know if, by your means, I could possibly be of any service to him, I first slackened my pace, and then turned back. But, though I thus met him half-way, he seemed to want courage or resolution to address me; for when he saw me returning, with a look extremely disordered, he retreated hastily from me.
Not knowing what I ought to do, I went to the street-door, where I stood some time, hoping he would be able to recover himself: but, on the contrary, his agitation increased every moment; he walked up and down the room, in a quick, but unsteady pace, seeming equally distressed and irresolute: and, at length, with a deep sigh, he flung himself into a chair.
I was so much affected by the appearance of such extreme anguish, that I could remain no longer in the room; I therefore glided by him, and went up stairs; but, ere I had gone five steps, he precipitately followed me, and, in a broken voice, called out, ‘Madam! – for Heaven’s sake – ’
He stopped, but I instantly descended, restraining, as well as I was able, the fullness of my own concern. I waited some time, in painful expectation, for his speaking: all that I had heard of his poverty, occurring to me, I was upon the point of presenting him my purse, but the fear of mistaking or offending him, deterred me. Finding, however, that he continued silent, I ventured to say, ‘Did you – Sir, wish to speak to me?’
‘I did!’ cried he, with quickness, ‘but now – I cannot!–’
‘Perhaps, Sir, another time, – perhaps if you recollect yourself – ’
‘Another time!’ repeated he mournfully, ‘alas! I look not forward but to misery and despair!’
‘O Sir,’ cried I, extremely shocked, ‘you must not talk thus! – if you forsake yourself, how can you expect – ’
I stopped. ‘Tell me, tell me,’ cried he, with eagerness, ‘who you are? – whence you come? – and by what strange means you seem to be arbitress and ruler of the destiny of such a wretch as I am?’
‘Would to Heaven,’ cried I, ‘I could serve you!’
‘You can!’
‘And how? pray tell me how?’
‘To tell you – is death to me! yet I will tell you, – I have a right to your assistance, – you have deprived me of the only resource to which I could apply, – and therefore – ’
‘Pray, pray, speak;’ cried I, putting my hand into my pocket, ‘they will be down stairs in a moment!’
‘I will, Madam. – Can you – will you – I think you will! – may I then – ’ he stopped and paused, ‘say, will you——’ then suddenly turning from me, ‘Great Heaven! I cannot speak!’ and he went back to the shop.
I now put my purse in my hand, and following him, said, ‘If indeed, Sir, I can assist you, why should you deny me so great a satisfaction? Will you permit me to – ’
I dared not go on; but with a countenance very much softened, he approached me, and said, ‘Your voice, Madam, is the voice of compassion! – such a voice as these ears have long been strangers to!’
Just then, young Branghton called out vehemently to me, to come up stairs; I seized the opportunity of hastening away: and therefore saying, ‘Heaven, Sir, protect and comfort you!’ I let fall my purse upon the ground, not daring to present it to him, and ran up stairs with the utmost swiftness.
Too well do I know you, my ever honoured Sir, to fear your displeasure for this action: I must, however, assure you I shall need no fresh supply during my stay in town, as I am at little expence, and hope soon to return to Howard Grove.
Soon, did I say! when not a fortnight is yet expired, of the long and tedious month I must linger out here!
I had many witticisms to endure from the Branghtons, upon account of my staying so long with the Scotch mope, as they call him; but I attended to them very little, for my whole heart was filled with pity and concern. I was very glad to find the Marybone scheme was deferred, another shower of rain having put a stop to the dissention upon this subject; the rest of the evening was employed in most violent quarrelling between Miss Polly and her brother, on account of the discovery made by the latter, of the state of her apartment.
We came home early; and I have stolen from Madame Duv
al and M. Du Bois, who is here for ever, to write to my best friend.
I am most sincerely rejoiced, that this opportunity has offered for my contributing what little relief was in my power, to this unhappy man; and I hope it will be sufficient to enable him to pay his debts to this pitiless family.
Letter Eighteen
Mr Villars to Evelina
Berry Hill
Displeasure? my Evelina! – you have but done your duty; you have but shewn that humanity without which I should blush to own my child. It is mine, however, to see that your generosity be not repressed by your suffering from indulging it; I remit to you, therefore, not merely a token of my approbation, but an acknowledgement of my desire to participate in your charity.
O my child, were my fortune equal to my confidence in thy benevolence, with what transport should I, through thy means, devote it to the relief of indigent virtue! yet let us not repine at the limitation of our power, for, while our bounty is proportioned to our ability, the difference of the greater or less donation, can weigh but little in the scale of justice.
In reading your account of the misguided man, whose misery has so largely excited your compassion, I am led to apprehend, that his unhappy situation is less the effect of misfortune, than of misconduct. If he is reduced to that state of poverty represented by the Branghtons, he should endeavour by activity and industry to retrieve his affairs; and not pass his time in idle reading in the very shop of his creditor.
The pistol scene made me shudder: the courage with which you pursued this desperate man, at once delighted and terrified me. Be ever thus, my dearest Evelina, dauntless in the cause of distress! let no weak fears, no timid doubts, deter you from the exertion of your duty, according to the fullest sense of it that Nature has implanted in your mind. Though gentleness and modesty are the peculiar attributes of your sex, yet fortitude and firmness, when occasion demands them, are virtues as noble and as becoming in women as in men: the right line of conduct is the same for both sexes, though the manner in which it is pursued, may somewhat vary, and be accommodated to the strength or weakness of the different travellers.
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