A Simple Story

by Mrs. Inchbald

  CHAPTER IV.

  When the first transports of despair were past, Miss Milner sufferedherself to be once more in hope. She found there were no other means tosupport her life; and to her comfort, her friend was much less severe onthe present occasion than she expected. No engagement between mortalswas, in Miss Woodley's opinion, binding like that entered into withheaven; and whatever vows Lord Elmwood had possibly made to another, shejustly supposed that no woman's love for him equalled Miss Milner's--itwas prior to all others too; that established her claim to contend atleast for success; and in a contention, what rival would not fall beforeher?

  It was not difficult to guess who this rival was; or if they were alittle time in suspence, Miss Woodley soon arrived at the certainty, byinquiring of Mr. Sandford; who, unsuspecting why she asked, readilyinformed her the intended Lady Elmwood was no other than Miss Fenton;and that their marriage would be solemnized as soon as the mourning forthe late Lord Elmwood was over. This last intelligence made Miss Woodleyshudder--she repeated it, however, to Miss Milner, word for word.

  "Happy! happy woman!" exclaimed Miss Milner of Miss Fenton; "she hasreceived the first fond impulse of his heart, and has had thetranscendent happiness of teaching him to love!"

  "By no means," returned Miss Woodley, finding no other suggestion likelyto comfort her; "do not suppose that his marriage is the result oflove--it is no more than a duty, a necessary arrangement, and this youmay plainly see by the wife on whom he has fixed. Miss Fenton wasthought a proper match for his cousin, and that same propriety hastransferred her to him."

  It was easy to convince Miss Milner that all her friend said was truth,for she wished it so. "And oh!" she exclaimed, "could I but stimulatepassion, against the cold influence of propriety;--Do you think, my dearMiss Woodley," (and she looked with such begging eyes, it was impossiblenot to answer as she wished,) "do you think it would be unjust to MissFenton, were I to inspire her destined husband with a passion which shemay not have inspired, and which I believe _she_ cannot feel?"

  Miss Woodley paused a minute, and then answered, "No:"--but there was ahesitation in her manner of delivery--she _did_ say, "No:" but she lookedas if she was afraid she ought to have said "Yes." Miss Milner, however,did not give her time to recall the word, or to alter its meaning byadding others to it, but ran on eagerly, and declared, "As that was heropinion, she would abide by it, and do all she could to supplant herrival." In order, nevertheless, to justify this determination, andsatisfy the conscience of Miss Woodley, they both concluded that MissFenton's heart was not engaged in the intended marriage, andconsequently that she was indifferent whether it ever took place or not.

  Since the death of the late Earl, she had not been in town; nor had thepresent Earl been near the place where she resided, since the week inwhich her lover died; of course, nothing similar to love could have beendeclared at so early a period; and if it had been made known at a later,it must only have been by letter, or by the deputation of Mr. Sandford,who they knew had been once in the country to visit her; but how littlehe was qualified to enforce a tender passion, was a comfortablereflection.

  Revived by these conjectures, of which some were true, and others false;the very next day a gloom overspread their bright prospects, on Mr.Sandford's saying, as he entered the breakfast-room,

  "Miss Fenton, ladies, desired me to present her compliments."

  "Is she in town?" asked Mrs. Horton.

  "She came yesterday morning," returned Sandford, "and is at herbrother's, in Ormond-street; my Lord and I supped there last night, andthat made us so late home."

  Lord Elmwood entered soon after, and bowing to his ward, confirmed whathad been said, by telling her, that "Miss Fenton had charged him withher kindest respects."

  "How does poor Miss Fenton look?" Mrs. Horton asked Lord Elmwood.

  To which question Sandford replied, "Beautiful--she looks beautifully."

  "She has got over her uneasiness, I suppose then?" said Mrs. Horton--notdreaming that she was asking the questions before her new lover.

  "Uneasy!" replied Sandford, "uneasy at any trial this world can send?That would be highly unworthy of her."

  "But sometimes women do fret at such things:" replied Mrs. Horton,innocently.

  Lord Elmwood asked Miss Milner--"If she meant to ride, this delightfulday?"

  While she was hesitating--

  "There are different kinds of women," (said Sandford, directing hisdiscourse to Mrs. Horton;) "there is as much difference between somewomen, as between good and evil spirits."

  Lord Elmwood asked Miss Milner again--If she took an airing?

  She replied, "No."

  "And beauty," continued Sandford, "when endowed upon spirits that areevil, is a mark of their greater, their more extreme wickedness. Luciferwas the most beautiful of all the angels in Paradise"--

  "How do you know?" said Miss Milner.

  "But the beauty of Lucifer," (continued Sandford, in perfect neglect andcontempt of her question,) "was an aggravation of his guilt; because itshewed a double share of ingratitude to the Divine Creator of thatbeauty."

  "Now you talk of angels," said Miss Milner, "I wish I had wings; and Ishould like to fly through the park this morning."

  "You would be taken for an angel in good earnest," said Lord Elmwood.

  Sandford was angry at this little compliment, and cried, "I should thinkthe serpent's skin would be much more characteristic."

  "My Lord," cried she, "does not Mr. Sandford use me ill?" Vext withother things, she felt herself extremely hurt at this, and made theappeal almost in tears.

  "Indeed, I think he does." And he looked at Sandford as if he wasdispleased.

  This was a triumph so agreeable to her, that she immediately pardonedthe offence; but the offender did not so easily pardon her.

  "Good morning, ladies," said Lord Elmwood, rising to go away.

  "My Lord," said Miss Woodley, "you promised Miss Milner to accompany herone evening to the opera; this is opera night."

  "Will you go, my Lord?" asked Miss Milner, in a voice so soft, that heseemed as if he wished, but could not resist it.

  "I am to dine at Mr. Fenton's to-day," he replied; "and if he and hissister will go, and you will allow them part of your box, I will promiseto come."

  This was a condition by no means acceptable to her; but as she felt adesire to see him in company of his intended bride, (for she fancied shecould perceive his secret sentiments, could she once see them together)she answered not ungraciously, "Yes, my compliments to Mr. and MissFenton, and I hope they will favour me with their company."

  "Then, Madam, if they come, you may expect me--else not." He bowed andleft the room.

  All the day was passed in anxious expectation by Miss Milner, what wouldbe the event of the evening: for upon her penetration that evening allher future prospects she thought depended. If she saw by his looks, byhis words, or assiduities, that he loved Miss Fenton, she flatteredherself she would never think of him again with hope; but if sheobserved him treat her with inattention or indifference, she wouldcherish, from that moment, the fondest expectations. Against that shortevening her toilet was consulted the whole day: the alternate hope andfear which fluttered in her heart, gave a more than usual brilliancy toher eyes, and more than usual bloom to her complection. But vain was herbeauty; vain all her care to decorate that beauty; vain her many looksto her box-door in hopes to see it open--Lord Elmwood never came.

  The music was discord--every thing she saw was disgusting--in a word, shewas miserable.

  She longed impatiently for the curtain to drop, because she was uneasywhere she was--yet she asked herself, "Shall I be less unhappy at home?Yes; at home I shall see Lord Elmwood, and that will be happiness. Buthe will behold me with neglect, and that will be misery! Ungrateful man!I will no longer think of him." Yet could she have thought of him,without joining in the same idea Miss Fenton, her anguish had beensupportable; but while she painted them as lovers, the tortures of therack are but a few
degrees more painful than those which she endured.

  There are but few persons who ever felt the real passion of jealousy,because few have felt the real passion of love; but with those who haveexperienced them both, jealousy not only affects the mind, but everyfibre of their frame; and Miss Milner's every limb felt agonizingtorment, when Miss Fenton, courted and beloved by Lord Elmwood, waspresent to her imagination.

  The moment the opera was finished, she flew hastily down stairs, as ifto fly from the sufferings she experienced. She did not go into thecoffee-room, though repeatedly urged by Miss Woodley, but waited at thedoor till her carriage drew up.

  Piqued--heart-broken--full of resentment against the object of heruneasiness, and inattentive to all that passed, a hand gently touchedher own; and the most humble and insinuating voice said, "Will youpermit me to lead you to your carriage?" She was awakened from herrevery, and found Lord Frederick Lawnly by her side. Her heart, justthen melting with tenderness to another, was perhaps more accessiblethan heretofore; or bursting with resentment, thought this the moment toretaliate. Whatever passion reigned that instant, it was favourable tothe desires of Lord Frederick, and she looked as if she was glad to seehim: he beheld this with the rapture and the humility of a lover; andthough she did not feel the least particle of love in return, she feltgratitude in proportion to the insensibility with which she had beentreated by her guardian; and Lord Frederick's supposition was not veryerroneous, if he mistook this gratitude for a latent spark of affection.The mistake, however, did not force from him his respect: he handed herto her carriage, bowed low, and disappeared. Miss Woodley wished todivert her thoughts from the object which could only make her wretched,and as they rode home, by many encomiums upon Lord Frederick,endeavoured to incite her to a regard for him; Miss Milner wasdispleased at the attempt, and exclaimed,

  "What! love a rake, a man of professed gallantry? impossible. To me, acommon rake is as odious as a common prostitute is to a man of thenicest feelings. Where can be the joy, the pride, of inspiring a passionwhich fifty others can equally inspire?"

  "Strange," cried Miss Woodley, "that you, who possess so many folliesincident to your sex, should, in the disposal of your heart, havesentiments so contrary to women in general."

  "My dear Miss Woodley," returned she, "put in competition the languidaddresses of a libertine, with the animated affection of a sober man,and judge which has the dominion? Oh! in my calendar of love, a solemnLord Chief Justice, or a devout archbishop, ranks before a licentiousking."

  Miss Woodley smiled at an opinion which she knew half her sex wouldridicule; but by the air of sincerity with which it was delivered, shewas convinced her recent behaviour to Lord Frederick was but the mereeffect of chance.

  Lord Elmwood's carriage drove to his door just at the time her's did;Mr. Sandford was with him, and they were both come from passing theevening at Mr. Fenton's.

  "So, my Lord," said Miss Woodley, as soon as they met in the apartment,"you did not come to us?"

  "No," answered he, "I was sorry; but I hope you did not expect me."

  "Not expect you, my Lord?" cried Miss Milner; "Did not you say that youwould come?"

  "If I had, I certainly should have come," returned he, "but I only saidso conditionally."

  "That I am a witness to," cried Sandford, "for I was present at thetime, and he said it should depend upon Miss Fenton."

  "And she, with her gloomy disposition," said Miss Milner, "chose to sitat home."

  "Gloomy disposition!" repeated Sandford: "She has a great share ofsprightliness--and I think I never saw her in better spirits than she wasthis evening, my Lord."

  Lord Elmwood did not speak.

  "Bless me, Mr. Sandford," cried Miss Milner, "I meant no reflectionupon Miss Fenton's disposition; I only meant to censure her taste forstaying at home."

  "I think," replied Mr. Sandford, "a much heavier censure should bepassed upon those who prefer rambling abroad."

  "But I hope, ladies, my not coming," said Lord Elmwood, "was noinconvenience to you; for you had still, I see, a gentleman with you."

  "Oh! yes, two gentlemen:" answered the son of Lady Evans, a lad fromschool, whom Miss Milner had taken along with her.

  "What two?" asked Lord Elmwood.

  Neither Miss Milner nor Miss Woodley answered.

  "You know, Madam," said young Evans, "that handsome gentleman who handedyou into your carriage, and you called my Lord."

  "Oh! he means Lord Frederick Lawnly:" said Miss Milner carelessly, but ablush of shame spread over her face.

  "And did he hand you into your coach?" asked Lord Elmwood earnestly.

  "By mere accident, my Lord," Miss Woodley replied, "for the crowd was sogreat----"

  "I think, my Lord," said Sandford, "it was very lucky that you were_not_ there."

  "Had Lord Elmwood been with us, we should not have had occasion for theassistance of any other," said Miss Milner.

  "Lord Elmwood has been with you, Madam," returned Sandford, "veryfrequently, and yet--"

  "Mr. Sandford," said Lord Elmwood, interrupting him, "it is nearbed-time, your conversation keeps the ladies from retiring."

  "Your Lordship's does not," said Miss Milner, "for you say nothing."

  "Because, Madam, I am afraid to offend."

  "But do not you also hope to please? and without risking the one, it isimpossible to arrive at the other."

  "I think, at present, the risk would be too hazardous, and so I wish youa good night." And he went out of the room somewhat abruptly.

  "Lord Elmwood," said Miss Milner, "is very grave--he does not look like aman who has been passing the evening with the woman he loves."

  "Perhaps he is melancholy at parting from her," said Miss Woodley.

  "More likely offended," said Sandford, "at the manner in which that ladyhas spoken of her."

  "Who, I? I protest I said nothing----"

  "Nothing! Did not you say that she was gloomy?"

  "Nothing but what I thought--I was going to add, Mr. Sandford."

  "When you think unjustly, you should not express your thoughts."

  "Then, perhaps, I should never speak."

  "And it were better you did not, if what you say is to give pain. Do youknow, Madam, that my Lord is going to be married to Miss Fenton?"

  "Yes," answered Miss Milner.

  "Do you know that he loves her?"

  "No," answered Miss Milner.

  "How! do you suppose he does not?"

  "I suppose that he does, yet I don't know it."

  "Then if you suppose that he does, how can you have the imprudence tofind fault with her before him?"

  "I did not. To call her gloomy, was, I knew, to commend her both to himand to you, who admire such tempers."

  "Whatever her temper is, _every one_ admires it; and so far from itsbeing what you have described, she has great vivacity; vivacity whichcomes from the heart."

  "No, if it _came_ from thence, I should admire it too; but, if she hasany, it rests there, and no one is the better for it."

  "Pshaw!" said Miss Woodley, "it is time for us to retire; you and Mr.Sandford must finish your dispute in the morning."

  "Dispute, Madam!" said Sandford, "I never disputed with any one beneatha doctor of divinity in my life. I was only cautioning your friend notto make light of those virtues which it would do her honour to possess.Miss Fenton is a most amiable young woman, and worthy of just such ahusband as my Lord Elmwood will make her."

  "I am sure," said Miss Woodley, "Miss Milner thinks so--she has a highopinion of Miss Fenton--she was at present only jesting."

  "But, Madam, a jest is a very pernicious thing, when delivered with amalignant sneer. I have known a jest destroy a lady's reputation--I haveknown a jest give one person a distaste for another--I have known a jestbreak off a marriage."

  "But I suppose there is no apprehension of that in the present case?"said Miss Woodley--wishing he might answer in the affirmative.

  "Not that I can foresee. No, Heave
n forbid," he replied, "for I lookupon them to be formed for each other--their dispositions, theirpursuits, their inclinations the same. Their passions for each otherjust the same--pure--white as snow."

  "And I dare say, not warmer," replied Miss Milner.

  He looked provoked beyond measure.

  "My dear," cried Miss Woodley, "how can you talk thus? I believe in myheart you are only envious, because my Lord Elmwood has not offeredhimself to you."

  "To her!" said Sandford, affecting an air of the utmost surprise; "toher! Do you think he received a dispensation from his vows, to becomethe husband of a coquette--a----."--He was going on.

  "Nay, Mr. Sandford," cried Miss Milner, "I believe, after all, my worstcrime, in your eyes, is that of being a heretic."

  "By no means--it is the only circumstance that can apologize for yourfaults; and if you had not that excuse, there would be none for you."

  "Then, at present, there _is_ an excuse--I thank you, Mr. Sandford--thisis the kindest thing you ever said to me. But I am vext to see that youare sorry you have said it."

  "Angry at your being a heretic!" he resumed--"Indeed I should be muchmore concerned to see you a disgrace to our religion."

  Miss Milner had not been in a good humour the whole evening--she had beenprovoked several times to the full extent of her patience: but thisharsh sentence hurried her beyond all bounds, and she arose from herseat in the most violent agitation, exclaiming, "What have I done to bethus treated?"

  Though Mr. Sandford was not a man easily intimidated, he was upon thisoccasion evidently alarmed; and stared about him with so violent anexpression of surprise, that it partook, in some degree, of fear. MissWoodley clasped her friend in her arms, and cried with the tenderestaffection and pity, "My dear Miss Milner, be composed."

  Miss Milner sat down, and was so for a minute; but her dead silence wasalmost as alarming to Sandford as her rage had been; and he did notperfectly recover himself till he saw tears pouring down her face. Hethen heaved a sigh of content that all had thus ended; but in his heartresolved never to forget the ridiculous affright into which he had beenthrown. He stole out of the room without uttering a syllable--but as henever retired to rest before he had repeated a long form of eveningprayer, when this evening he came to that part which supplicates "Gracefor the wicked," he mentioned Miss Milner's name with the most ferventdevotion.