Complete Poetical Works of Charlotte Smith

by Charlotte Smith

  ‘Lord Clancarryl despised this vulgar and disgusting woman too much to attend to the inuendos he heard; and far from suspecting my unhappy weakness, he continued to lay me under new obligations to Fitz-Edward by employing him almost incessantly in the arrangement of Trelawny’s affairs.

  ‘On looking over the will of that relation, who had bequeathed to Mr. Trelawny the great fortune he had possessed, I discovered the reason of Mrs. Bancraft’s attentive curiosity in regard to me — if he died without heirs, above six thousand a year was to descend to her son, who was to take the name. He had been now married above two years, and his bloated and unhealthy appearance (the effect of excessive drinking) indicated short life; and had made her for some time look forward to the succession of the entailed estate as an event almost certain for her son. This sufficiently explained her conduct, and encreased all my apprehensions; for I found that avarice would stimulate malice into that continued watchfulness which I could not now undergo without the loss of my fame and my peace.

  ‘All things being settled by Lord Clancarryl in the best manner he could dispose them for Mr. Trelawny, his Lordship pressed me to go with him to Ireland; but conscious that I should carry only disgrace and sorrow into the happy and respectable family of my sister, I refused, under pretence of waiting to hear again from Trelawny before I took any resolution as to my future residence.

  ‘His Lordship therefore left me, having obtained my promise to go over to Lough Carryl in the spring. Fitz-Edward continued to see me almost every day, attempting by the tenderest assiduity to soothe and tranquillize my mind. But time, which alleviates all other evils, only encreased mine; and they were now become almost insupportable. After long deliberation, I saw no way to escape the disgrace which was about to overwhelm me, but hiding myself from my own family and from all the world. I determined to keep my retreat secret, even from Fitz-Edward himself; and to punish myself for my fatal attachment by tearing myself for ever from it’s object. Could I have supported the contempt of the world, to which it was evidently the interest of Mrs. Bancraft to expose me, I could not bear the most distant idea of the danger to which the life of Fitz-Edward would be liable from the resentment of my brothers. That he might perish by the hand of Lord Westhaven or Captain Godolphin, or that one of those dear brothers might fall by his, was a suggestion so horrid, and yet so probable, that it was for ever before me; and I hastened to fly into obscurity, in the hope, that if my error is concealed till I am myself in the grave, my brothers may forgive me, and not attempt to wash out the offence in the blood of the surviving offender.

  ‘To remain, and to die here unknown, is all I now dare to wish for. My servant having formerly known the woman who inhabits this cottage, contrived to have a few necessaries sent hither without observation; I have made it worth the while of the people to be secret; and as they know not my name, I had little apprehension of being discovered.

  ‘I took no leave of Fitz-Edward; nor have I written to him since. I lament the pain my sudden absence must give him; but am determined to see him no more. Should my child live — —’

  Lady Adelina was now altogether unable to proceed, and fell into an agony of distress which greatly affected her auditors. Mrs. Stafford and Emmeline said every thing they could think of to console her, and soften the horror she seemed to feel for her unhappy indiscretion. But she listened in listless despondence to their discourse, and answered, that to be reconciled to guilt, and habituated to disgrace, was to be sunk in the last abyss of infamy.

  They left her not, however, till they saw her rather more tranquil; and till Mrs. Stafford had prevailed upon her to accept of some books, which she hoped might amuse her mind, and detach it awhile from the sad subject of it’s mournful contemplations. These she promised to convey to the cottage in a way that could create no suspicion. And relieved of her own apprehensions, yet full of concern for the fair unhappy mourner (to whom neither she or Emmeline had given the least intimation of Fitz-Edward’s frequent residence in that country,) they returned to Woodfield, impressed with the most earnest solicitude to soften the calamities they had just heard related, tho’ to cure them was impossible.

  END OF THE SECOND VOLUME

  VOLUME III

  CHAPTER I

  Whenever Mrs. Stafford and Emmeline were afterwards alone, they could think and speak of nothing but Lady Adelina. The misfortunes in which an unhappy marriage had involved her, her friendless youth, her lovely figure, the settled sorrow and deep regret that she seemed to feel for the error into which her too great sensibility of heart had betrayed her, engaged their tenderest pity, and made them both anxious to give her all the consolation and assistance she was now capable of receiving.

  When they considered the uncertainty of her remaining long concealed where she was, and the probability that Fitz-Edward himself might discover her, they saw the necessity of her removal from Woodbury Forest. But it was a proposal they could not yet make — nor had they yet recollected any place where she might be more secure.

  Emmeline, who felt herself particularly interested by her misfortunes, and who was more pleased with her conversation the oftener she conversed with her, seldom failed of seeing her every day: but Mrs. Stafford, more apprehensive of observation, could not so frequently visit her; and the precaution of both redoubled, when Mrs. Ashwood, Miss Galton, and the two Miss Ashwood’s, arrived at Woodfield, where they declared an intention of staying the months of June and July.

  Thither also, soon after, came the younger Mr. Crofts, who had made an acquaintance with Mr. Stafford in London with the hope of obtaining an invitation, which he eagerly accepted.

  Sir Richard Crofts, in the ambition of making a family, had determined to give every advantage to his eldest son, which might authorise him to look up to those alliances that would, he hoped, make his own obscurity forgotten. From the first dawn of his fortune, he had considered Mr. Crofts as it’s general heir; and had very plainly told his younger son, that a place under government, which he had procured for him, of about three hundred a year, must be his only dependance; till he should possess two thousand pounds, all the provision he intended making for him at his death — as he meant not to diminish, by a more equal division, the patrimony of his brother. He recommended to him therefore to remedy this deficiency of fortune, by looking out for an affluent wife.

  Nature had not eminently qualified him for success in such a project; for his person was short, thick, and ill made, and his face composed of large broad features, two dim grey eyes, and a complexion of a dull sallow white. A vain attempt to look like a gentleman, served only to render the meanness of his figure more remarkable; and the qualities of his heart and understanding were but little calculated to make his personal imperfections forgotten. His heart was selfish, narrow, unfeeling, and at once mean and proud; his understanding beneath mediocrity; and his conversation consisted of quaint scraps of something that he supposed was wit, or at least very like it. And even such attempts to be entertaining, poor as they were, he retailed from the office where he passed the greatest part of his time, and for a subaltern employment in which, his education had been barely such as fitted him. But ignorant as he was, and devoid of every estimable accomplishment, he had an infinite deal of that inferior kind of policy called cunning; and being accustomed to consider his establishment as depending wholly on himself, he had acquired a habit of sacrificing every sentiment and every passion to that one purpose; and would adopt the opinions, and submit to the caprices of others, whenever he thought they could promote it. He had learned the obsequious attention, the indefatigable industry, the humble adulation which is necessary for the under departments of political business: and while such acquisitions gave him hopes of rising in that line, they failed not to contribute to his success in another. He would walk from the extremity of Westminster to Wapping, to smuggle a set of china or of quadrille boxes, for the mother or aunt of an heiress; and would, with great temper, suffer the old ladies to take advantage of him at cards, whi
le he ogled the young ones. Which, together with his being always ready to perform for them petty services, and to flatter them without scruple, had obtained for him the character of ‘one of the best creatures breathing.’ But whatever favour these various recommendations obtained for him for a time, from the elderly ladies, he lost his ground when his views were discovered; and tho’ he had received what he fancied encouragement from two or three young women of fortune on their first emerging from the nursery, yet they had no sooner acquired an handsomer or richer lover, than ‘the best creature breathing’ was discarded.

  He was not however discouraged; and meeting with Mrs. Ashwood at a rout at Lady Montreville’s, he was told by Miss Delamere, who was extremely diverted with her airs of elegance, that she was a rich widow who wanted a husband. He enquired into the circumstances of her fortune; and being assured she possessed such an income as would make him easy, he thought some little advantage she had over him in point of age no diminution of her attractions, and found it convenient to fall immediately in love. She listened to him with complaisance; and soon discovered ‘that he was not so plain as at first he appeared to be’ — soon afterwards, ‘that he was rather handsome, and vastly sensible and agreeable.’ After which, he made a rapid progress in her heart; and it was concerted between them that he should follow her to Woodfield.

  Emmeline and Mrs. Stafford were wearied to death with the party. But the former forbore to complain, and the latter was forced to submit, and to smile, while anguish was frequently at her heart.

  Mrs. Ashwood talked of nothing but fashionable parties and fashionable people, to whom her acquaintance with Lord Montreville’s family had introduced her; and she now seldom deigned to name an untitled acquaintance — while Crofts hung on her long narratives with affected admiration; and the two elder of her three daughters, who were all in training to be beauties, aped their mother in vanity and impertinence.

  The eldest Miss Ashwood, now about fourteen, was an insupportable torment to Emmeline, as she had taken it into her head to form, with her, a sentimental friendship. She had learned all the cant of sentiment from novels; and her mama’s lovers had extremely edified her in teaching her to express it. She talked perpetually of delicate embarrassments and exquisite sensibilities, and had probably a lover, as she extremely wanted a confidant; a post which Emmeline with some difficulty declined. — Of ‘the sweet novels’ she had read, she just understood as much as made her long to become the heroine of such an history herself, and she wanted somebody to listen to her hopes of being so. But Emmeline shrunk from her advances, and repaid her fondness with general and cool civility; tho’ Mrs. Ashwood, who loved rather to listen to Crofts than to attend to her daughters, continually promoted the intimacy, in hopes that she would take them off her own hands, and allow them to be the companions of her walks.

  This, Emmeline was obliged studiously to evade, as such companions would entirely have prevented her seeing Lady Adelina; and by repeated excuses she not only irritated the curiosity of Mrs. Ashwood and Miss Galton, but gave the former an additional cause of dislike to that which she had already conceived; inasmuch as she was younger, handsomer, and more admired than herself.

  Emmeline received frequent letters from Delamere, as warm and passionate as his personal professions. He told her, that as his mother’s health was greatly amended, he intended soon to visit those parts of France with which he was yet unacquainted; and should pass some time in the Northern Provinces, from whence he entreated her to allow him to come only for a few days to England to see her — an indulgence which he said would enable him to bear with more tranquillity the remaining months of his exile.

  Tho’ now accustomed to consider him as her husband, Emmeline resolutely refused to consent to this breach of his engagement to his father. She had lately seen in her friends, Mrs. Stafford and Lady Adelina, two melancholy instances of the frequent unhappiness of very early marriages; and she had no inclination to hazard her own happiness in hopes of proving an exception. She wished, therefore, rather to delay her union with Delamere two or three years; but to him she never dared hint at such a delay. A clandestine interview it was, however, in her power to decline; and she answered his request by entreating him not to think of such a journey; and represented to him that he could not expect Lord Montreville would finally adhere to his promises, if he himself was careless of fulfilling the conditions on which his Lordship had insisted. Having thus, as she supposed, prevented Delamere from offending his father, and without any immediate uneasiness on her own account, she gave up her mind to the solicitude she could not help feeling for Lady Adelina. This occupied almost all her time when she was alone; and gave her, when in company, an air of absence and reserve.

  Tho’ Mrs. Ashwood so much encouraged the attention of James Crofts, she had not forgotten Fitz-Edward, whom she had vainly sought at Lady Montreville’s, in hopes of renewing an acquaintance which had in it’s commencement offered her so much satisfaction. Fitz-Edward had been amused with her absurdity at the moment, but had never thought of her afterwards; nor would he then have bestowed so much time on a woman to him entirely indifferent, had not he been thrown in her way by his desire to befriend Delamere with Emmeline, on one of those days when Lady Adelina insisted on his leaving her, to avoid the appearance of his passing with her all his time. Happy in successful love, his gaiety then knew no bounds; and his agreeable flattery, his lively conversation, his fashionable manners, and his handsome person, had not since been absent from the memory of Mrs. Ashwood. His being sometimes at the house he had borrowed of Delamere, near Woodfield, was one of the principal inducements to her to go thither. She indulged sanguine hopes of securing such a conquest; and evaded giving to Crofts a positive answer, till she had made another essay on the heart of the Colonel.

  He came, however, so seldom to Woodfield, that Mrs. Stafford had seen him there only once since her meeting Lady Adelina; and then he appeared to be under encreased dejection, for which she knew now, how to account.

  Emmeline had given Mrs. Stafford so indifferent an account of Lady Adelina one evening, that she determined the next morning to see her. She therefore went immediately after breakfast, on pretence of visiting a poor family who had applied to her for assistance; when as Mrs. Ashwood, Miss Galton and Emmeline, were sitting together, Colonel Fitz-Edward was announced.

  He came down to Tylehurst only the evening before; and not knowing there was company at Woodfield, rode over to pass an hour with the two friends, to whom he had frequently been tempted to communicate the source of his melancholy.

  Whether it was owing to the consciousness of Lady Adelina’s mournful story that arose in the mind of Emmeline, or whether seeing Fitz-Edward again in company with Mrs. Ashwood renewed the memory of what had befallen her when they last met, she blushed deeply the moment she beheld him, and arose from her chair in confusion; then sat down and took out her work, which she had hastily put up; and trying to recover herself, grew still more confused, and trembled and blushed again.

  Mrs. Ashwood was in the mean time overwhelming Fitz-Edward with compliments and kind looks, which he answered with the distant civility of a slight acquaintance; and taking a chair close to Emmeline, enquired if she was not well?

  She answered that she was perfectly well; and attempted to introduce general conversation. But Fitz-Edward was attentive only to her; and Mrs. Ashwood, extremely piqued at his distant manner, meditated an excuse to get Emmeline out of the room, in hopes of obtaining more notice.

  Fitz-Edward, however, having talked apart with Miss Mowbray a short time, arose and took leave, having by his manner convinced Mrs. Ashwood of what she reluctantly believed, that some later attachment had obliterated the impression she had made at their first interview.

  ‘I never saw such a figure in my life,’ cried she, ‘as Mr. Fitz-Edward. Mercy on me! — he is grown so thin, and so sallow!’

  ‘And so stupid,’interrupted Miss Galton. ‘He is in love I fancy.’

  Emmeli
ne blushed again; and Mrs. Ashwood casting a malicious look at her, said— ‘Oh! yes — he doubtless is in love. To men of his gay turn you know it makes no difference, whether a person be actually married or engaged.’

  Emmeline, uncertain of the meaning of this sarcasm, and unwilling to be provoked to make a tart reply, which she felt herself ready to do, put up her work and left the room.

  While she went in search of Mrs. Stafford, to enquire after Lady Adelina, and to relate the conversation that had passed between her and Fitz-Edward, Mrs. Ashwood and Miss Galton were indulging their natural malignity. Tho’ well apprized of Emmeline’s engagement to Delamere, yet they hesitated not to impute her confusion, and Fitz-Edward’s behaviour, to a passion between them. They believed, that while her elopement with Delamere had beyond retreat entangled her with him, and while his fortune and future title tempted her to marry him, her heart was in possession of Fitz-Edward; and that Delamere was the dupe of his mistress and his friend.

  This idea, which could not have occurred to a woman who was not herself capable of all the perfidy it implied, grew immediately familiar with the imagination of Mrs. Ashwood, and embittered the sense of her own disappointment.

  Miss Galton, who hated Emmeline more if possible than Mrs. Ashwood, irritated her suspicions by remarks of her own. She observed ‘that it was very extraordinary Miss Mowbray should walk out so early in a morning, and so studiously avoid taking any body with her — and that unless she had appointments to which she desired no witness, it was very singular she should chuse to ramble about by herself.’