Complete Novels of Maria Edgeworth

by Maria Edgeworth

  Some part of the conversation in the next room I missed, whilst his lordship spoke. The next words I heard were —

  “But my dear Lady Y —— , look at Cecilia. — Would not any other girl be cast down and miserable in Cecilia’s place? yet see, see how provokingly happy and well she looks.”

  “Yes,” replied Lady Y —— , “I never saw her appear better: but we are not to judge of her by what any other young lady would be in her place, for I know of none at all comparable to Miss Delamere.”

  “Miss Delamere!” said I to Lord Y —— . “Is this the Miss Delamere who is heiress at law to — —”

  “The Glenthorn estate. Yes — do not let the head of Socrates fall from your hands,” said his lordship, smiling.

  I again lost something that was said in the next room; but I heard the old lady going on with —

  “I only say, my dear, that if the man had been really what he was said to be, you could not have done better.”

  “Dearest mother, you cannot be serious,” replied the sweetest voice I ever heard. “I am sure that you never were in earnest upon this subject: you could not wish me to be united to such a man as Lord Glenthorn was said to be.”

  “Why? what was he said to be, my dear? — a little dissipated, a little extravagant only: and if he had a fortune to support it, child, what matter?” pursued the mother: “all young men are extravagant now-a-days — you must take the world as it goes.”

  “The lady who married Lord Glenthorn, I suppose, acted upon that principle; and you see what was the consequence.”

  “Oh, my dear, as to her ladyship, it ran in the blood: let her have married whom she would, she would have done the same: and I am told Lord Glenthorn made an incomparably good husband. A cousin of Lady Glenthorn’s assured me that she was present one day, when her ladyship expressed a wish for a gold chain to wear round her neck, or braid her hair, I forget for what; but that very hour Lord Glenthorn bespoke for her a hundred yards of gold chain, at ten guineas a yard. Another time she longed for an Indian shawl, and his lordship presented her next day with three dozen real India shawls. There’s a husband for you, Cecilia!”

  “Not for me, mamma,” said Cecilia, laughing.

  “Ah, you are a strange romantic girl, and never will be married after all, I fear.”

  “Never to a fool, I hope,” said Cecilia.

  “Miss Delamere will, however, allow,” said Lady Y —— , “that a man may have his follies, without being a fool, or wholly unworthy of her esteem; otherwise, what a large portion of mankind she would deprive of hope!”

  “As to Lord Glenthorn, he was no fool, I promise you,” continued the mother: “has not he been living prudently enough these three years? We have not heard of late of any of his extraordinary landaus.”

  “But I have been told,” said Cecilia, “that he is quite uninformed, without any taste for literature, and absolutely incapable of exertion — a victim to ennui. How miserable a woman must be with such a husband!”

  “But,” said Lady Y —— , “what could be expected from a young nobleman bred up as Lord Glenthorn was?”

  “Nothing,” said Cecilia; “and that is the very reason I never wished to see him.”

  “Perhaps Miss Delamere’s opinion might be changed if she had known him,” said Lady Y —— ,

  “Ay, for he is a very handsome man, I have heard,” said the mother. “Lady Jocunda Lawler told me so, in one of her letters; and Lady Jocunda was very near being married to him herself, I can tell you, for he admired her prodigiously.”

  “A certain proof that he never would have admired me,” said Cecilia; “for two women, so opposite in every respect, no man could have loved.”

  “Lord bless you, child! how little you know of the matter! After all, I dare say, if you had been acquainted with him, you might have been in love yourself with Lord Glenthorn.”

  “Possibly,” said Cecilia, “if I had found him the reverse of what he is reported to be.”

  Company came in at this instant. Lord Y —— was called to receive them, and I followed; glad, at this instant, that I was not Lord Glenthorn. At dinner the conversation turned upon general subjects; and Lord Y —— , with polite and friendly attention, drew me out, without seeming to do so, in the kindest manner possible.

  I had the pleasure to perceive that Cecilia Delamere did not find me a fool. I never, even in the presence of Lady Geraldine, exerted myself so much to avoid this disgrace.

  After all the company, except Mrs. and Miss Delamere, were gone, Lord Y —— called me aside.

  “Will you pardon,” said he, “the means I have taken to convince you how much superior you are to the opinion that has been commonly formed of Lord Glenthorn? Will you forgive me for convincing you that when a man has sufficient strength of mind to rely upon himself, and sufficient energy to exert his abilities, he becomes independent of common report and vulgar opinion? He secures the suffrages of the best judges; and they, in time, lead all the rest of the world. Will you permit me now to introduce you to your prudent friend and your fair enemy? Mrs. Delamere — Miss Delamere — give me leave to introduce to you the late Earl of Glenthorn.”

  Of the astonishment in the opening eyes of Mrs. Delamere I have some faint recollection. I can never forget the crimson blush that instantaneously spread over the celestial countenance of Cecilia. She was perfectly silent; but her mother went on talking with increased rapidity.

  “Good Heavens! the late Lord Glenthorn! Why, I was talking — but he was not in the room.” The ladies exchanged looks, which seemed to say, “I hope he did not hear all we said of him.”

  “My dear Lord Y —— , why did not you tell us this before? Suppose we had spoken of his lordship, you would have been answerable for all the consequences.”

  “Certainly,” said Lord Y —— .

  “But, seriously,” said the old lady, “have I the pleasure to speak to Lord Glenthorn, or have I not? I believe I began, unluckily, to talk of a strange story I had heard; but perhaps all this is a mistake, and my country correspondent may have been amusing herself at the expense of my credulity. I assure you I was not imposed upon; I never believed half the story.”

  “You may believe the whole of it, madam,” said I; “the story is perfectly true.”

  “Oh! my good sir, how sorry I am to hear you say it is all true! And the blacksmith is really Earl of Glenthorn, and has taken possession of the castle, and is married, and has a son! Lord bless me, how unfortunate! Well, I can only say, sir, I wish, with all my heart, you were Earl of Glenthorn still.”

  After hearing from Lord Y —— the circumstances of what he was pleased to call my generous conduct, Mrs. Delamere observed, that I had acted very generously, to be sure, but that few in my place would have thought themselves bound to give up possession of an estate, which I had so long been taught to believe was my own. To have and to hold, she observed, always went together in law; and she could not help thinking I had done very injudiciously and imprudently not to let the law decide for me.

  I was consoled for Mrs. Delamere’s reprehensions by her daughter’s approving countenance. After this visit, Lord Y —— gave me a general invitation to his house, where I frequently saw Miss Delamere, and frequently compared her with my recollection of Lady Geraldine —— — . Cecilia Delamere was not so entertaining, but she was more interesting than Lady Geraldine: the flashes of her ladyship’s wit, though always striking, were sometimes dangerous; Cecilia’s wit, though equally brilliant, shone with a more pleasing and inoffensive light. With as much generosity as Lady Geraldine could show in great affairs, she had more forbearance and delicacy of attention on every-day occasions. Lady Geraldine had much pride, and it often gave offence; Cecilia, perhaps, had more pride, but it never appeared, except upon the defensive: without having less candour, she had less occasion for it than Lady Geraldine seemed to have; and Cecilia’s temper had more softness and equability. Perhaps Cecilia was not so fascinating, but she was more attractiv
e. One had the envied art of appearing to advantage in public — the other, the more desirable power of being happy in private. I admired Lady Geraldine long before I loved her; I loved Cecilia long before I admired her.

  Whilst I possibly could, I called what I felt for Miss Delamere only esteem; but when I found it impossible to conceal from myself that I loved, I resolved to avoid this charming woman. How happy, thought I, would the fortune I once possessed now make me! but in my present circumstances what have I to hope? Surely my friend Lord Y —— has not shown his usual prudence in exposing me to such a temptation; but it is to be supposed, he thinks that the impossibility of my obtaining Miss Delamere will prevent my thinking of her, or perhaps he depends on the inertness and apathy of my temper. Unfortunately for me, my sensibility has increased since I have become poor; for many years, when I was rich, and could have married easily, I never wished to marry, and now that I have not enough to support a wife, I immediately fall desperately in love.

  Again and again I pondered upon my circumstances: three hundred a-year was the amount of all my worldly possessions; and Miss Delamere was not rich, and she had been bred expensively; for it had never been absent from her mother’s mind, that Cecilia would be heiress to the immense Glenthorn estate. The present possessor was, however, an excellent life, and he had a son stout and healthy, so all these hopes of Mrs. Delamere’s were at an end; and as there was little chance, as she said (laughing), of persuading her daughter to marry Johnny, the young lord and heir apparent, it was now necessary to turn her views elsewhere, and to form for Cecilia some suitable alliance. Rank and large fortune were, in Mrs. Delamere’s opinion, indispensable to happiness. Cecilia’s ideas were far more moderate; but, though perfectly disinterested and generous, she was not so romantic, or so silly, as to think of marrying any man without the probability of his being able to support her in the society of her equals: nor, even if I could have thought it possible to prevail upon Miss Delamere to make an unbecoming and imprudent choice, would I have taken advantage of the confidence reposed in me by Lord Y —— , to destroy the happiness of a young friend, for whom he evidently had a great regard. I resolved to see her no more — and for some weeks I kept my resolution; I refrained from going to Y —— house. I deem this the most virtuous action of my life; it certainly was the most painful sacrifice I ever made to a sense of duty. At last, Lord Y —— came to me one morning, and after reproaching me, in a friendly manner, for having so long absented myself from his house, declared that he would not be satisfied with any of those common excuses, which might content a mere acquaintance; that his sincere anxiety for my welfare gave him a right to expect from me the frankness of a friend. It was a relief to my mind to be encouraged in this manner. I confessed with entire openness my real motive: Lord Y —— heard me without surprise.

  “It is gratifying to me,” said his lordship, “to be convinced that I was not mistaken in my judgment, either of your taste, or your integrity; permit me to assure you, that I foresaw exactly how you would feel, and precisely how you would act. There are certain moral omens, which old experience never fails to interpret rightly, and from which unerring predictions of the future conduct, and consequently of the future fate of individuals, may be formed. I hold that we are the artificers of our own fortune. If there be any whom the gods wish to destroy, these are first deprived of understanding; whom the gods wish to favour, they first endow with integrity, inspire with understanding, and animate with activity. Have I not seen integrity in you, and shall I not see activity? Yes; that supineness of temper or habit with which you reproach yourself has arisen, believe me, only from want of motive; but you have now the most powerful of motives, and in proportion to your exertions will be your success. In our country, you know, the highest offices of the state are open to talents and perseverance; a man of abilities and application cannot fail to secure independence, and obtain distinction. Time and industry are necessary to prepare you for the profession, to which you will hereafter be an honour, and you will courageously submit.

  —’Time and industry, the mighty two,

  Which bring our wishes nearer to our view.’

  As to the probability that your present wishes may be crowned with success, I can judge only from my general knowledge of the views and disposition of the lady whom you admire. I know that her views with respect to fortune are moderate; and that her disposition and excellent understanding will, in the choice of a husband, direct her preference to the essential good qualities, and not to the accidental advantages, of the candidates for her favour. As to the mother’s influence, that will necessarily yield to the daughter’s superior judgment. Cecilia possesses over her mother that witchcraft of gentle manners, which in the female sex is always irresistible, even over violent tempers. Prudential considerations have a just, though not exclusive, claim to Miss Delamere’s attention. But her relations, I fancy, could find means of providing against any pecuniary embarrassments, if she should think proper to unite herself to a man who can be content, as she would be, with a competence, and who should have proved himself able, by his own exertions, to maintain his wife in independence. On this last condition I must dwell with emphasis, because it is indispensable; and I am convinced that without it Miss Delamere’s consent, even after she is of age, and at liberty to judge for herself, could never be obtained. You perceive, then, how much depends upon your own exertions; and this is the best hope, and the best motive, that I can give to a strong and generous mind. Farewell — Persevere and prosper.”

  Such was the general purport of what Lord Y —— said to me; indeed, I believe that I have repeated his very words, for they made a great and ineffaceable impression upon my mind. From this day I date the commencement of a new existence. Fired with ambition, — I hope generous ambition, — to distinguish myself among men, and to win the favour of the most amiable and the most lovely of women, all the faculties of my soul were awakened: I became active, permanently active. The enchantment of indolence was dissolved, and the demon of ennui was cast out for ever.

  CHAPTER XXI.

  If, among those who maybe tempted to peruse my history, there should be any mere novel readers, let me advise them to throw the book aside at the commencement of this chapter; for I have no more wonderful incidents to relate, no more changes at nurse, no more sudden turns of fortune. I am now become a plodding man of business, poring over law-books from morning till night, and leading a most monotonous life: yet occupation, and hope, and the constant sense of approaching nearer to my object, rendered this mode of existence, dull as it may seem, infinitely more agreeable than many of my apparently prosperous days, when I had more money, and more time, than I knew how to enjoy. I resolutely persevered in my studies.

  About a month after I came to town, the doors of my lodging were blockaded by half a dozen cars, loaded with huge packing-cases, on which I saw, in the hand-writing which I remembered often to have seen in my blacksmith’s bills, a direction to Christopher O’Donoghoe, Esquire — this side upwards: to be kept dry.

  One of the carmen fumbled in what he called his pocket, and at last produced a very dirty note.

  “My dear and honourable foster-brother, larning from Mr. M’Leod that you are thinking of studdeing, I send you inclosed by the bearer, who is to get nothing for the carrige, all the bookes from the big booke-room at the castle, which I hope, being of not as much use as I could wish to me, your honour will not scorn to accept, with the true veneration of

  “Your ever-loving foster-brother, and grateful humble servant, to command.

  “P.S. No name needful, for you will not be astray about the hand.”

  This good-natured fellow’s present was highly valuable and useful to me.

  Among my pleasures at this studious period of my life, when I had few events to break the uniform tenor of my days, I must mention letters which I frequently received from Mr. Devereux and Lady Geraldine, who still continued in India. Mr. Devereux was acquainted with almost all the men of emine
nce at the Irish bar; men who are not mere lawyers, but persons of literature, of agreeable manners, and gentlemanlike habits. Mr. Desvereux wrote to his friends so warmly in my favour, that, instead of finding myself a stranger in Dublin, my only difficulty was how to avoid the numerous invitations which tempted me from my studies.

  Those gentlemen of the bar who were intimate with Mr. Devereux honoured me with particular attention, and their society was peculiarly useful, as well as agreeable, to me: they directed my industry to the best and shortest means of preparing myself for their profession; they put into my hands the best books; told me all that experience had taught them of the art of distinguishing, in the mass of law-precedents, the useful from the useless: instructed me in the methods of indexing and common-placing; and gave me all those advantages, which solitary students so often want, and the want of which so often makes the study of the law appear an endless maze without a plan. When I found myself surrounded with books, and reading assiduously day and night, I could scarcely believe in my own identity; I could scarcely imagine that I was the same person, who, but a few months before this time, lolled upon a sofa half the day, and found it an intolerable labour to read or think for half an hour together. Such is the power of motive! During the whole time I pursued my studies, and kept my terms, in Ireland, the only relaxation I allowed myself was in the society at Lord Y — —’s house in Dublin, and, during my vacations, in excursions which I made with his lordship to different parts of the country. Lord Y —— had two country-seats in the most beautiful parts of Ireland. How differently the face of nature appeared to me now! with what different sensations I beheld the same objects!

  “No brighter colours paint th’ enamell’d fields,