Complete Poetical Works of Charlotte Smith

by Charlotte Smith

  “I hope, (said Mrs. Lessington austerely), that Mr. Vyvian is returning immediately to his mother, who is extremely ill, who knows nothing of his being here, and who would be extremely unhappy were she to be informed of it. It was but the day before yesterday he was ill in bed, (added she, casting a significant glance at her youngest daughter), and last night he was at a ball.”

  “He did not dance, however, Madam, (said Rosalie), and I understood came hither only to consult a physician.”

  “Who informed you of all this, Ma’am, (answered her mother), and why do you take upon you to answer for him?”

  Rosalie, whose conscience was perfectly clear in regard to Vyvian, answered calmly, “He told me himself, Madam, and I answered, because I thought your conversation addressed particularly to me.”

  “Humph — (said Mrs. Lessington contemptuously) — silence, child, would often become you much better.”

  The other young ladies had a great deal to do in the town, for Miss Catharine was now to be married in three days. Mantuamakers and milliners were therefore to be hurried, and, as soon as breakfast was over, they went out together for that purpose, attended by Blagham and Hughson, while Rosalie remained where she was, having no ambition to accompany them; her preparations for her sister’s wedding were confined, (as it was intended that Maria only should accompany the bride), and about these she was by no means solicitous.

  Disagreeable and uneasy to her as the remonstrances and reproaches were that she was still obliged to hear, she flattered herself that one good effect would arise from the circumstances of the preceding evening — that Hughson, convinced of its inefficacy, would carry his suit no farther, and that his pride would prevent her being teazed with addresses, which her sister seemed disposed to receive favourably.

  But in this hope she was disappointed. The admiration Rosalie had so universally excited, while her sister had been hardly noticed, the whispers of approbation that he had heard from the most fashionable set in the room, for whose opinion the whole country around had the most implicit deference, as well as the impression she seemed to have made on Vyvian and Montalbert, were altogether circumstances so far from deterring Hughson from pursuing her, that they served only to inflame his ambition; and, though he affected to direct his attention towards Miss Maria for a while, in hopes of piqueing Rosalie, he soon renewed those expressions of affection and protestations of unwearied perseverance, from which Rosalie foresaw so much persecution and trouble.

  As Hughson was to perform the marriage ceremony between his friend Blagham and Miss Kitty Lessington, he went back with the family, and by his troublesome assiduities, and ridiculous attempts at gaiety and wit, deprived her of the satisfaction she would have derived from having left a place so very disagreeable to her as the provincial town where they had passed the last three days.......At home she as least hoped to enjoy the solitude of her own room, but she dared not ask herself, whether she ought to venture the meeting Montalbert had so earnestly solicited....She felt all its impropriety; then endeavoured to reconcile herself to a step from which she thought no evil consequence could possibly arise. “My mother, (said she, arguing this point with herself), my mother will never forgive me, should she know it — but how will she know it? — and what real harm is there in it? — It would certainly have a bad appearance, were a young woman known to have private meetings with any one — but what meetings can I have? — Is not Mr. Montalbert immediately going back to Italy, and is there any probability of my ever seeing him again? — Ah! no.” — The argument concluded with a deep sigh, but it had not helped to determine her from an almost intuitive sense of propriety, for she had received but little instruction on such matters; she was conscious that she ought not to go out with a view of meeting Montalbert: yet to think that she had seen him for the last time, to let him go with impressions of her having a predilection in favour of such a man as Hughson, of her being happy among such society as she was condemned to, it was impossible to determine on it. Sleep the ensuing night was driven from the pillow of Rosalie by these debates; but it was at this season, long before day appeared with its first dawn, however, she left her bed, for it would very soon be necessary to determine whether she would venture to commit such an impropriety as meeting Montalbert, or suffer him to depart under the impressions he would carry with him, if she saw him no more.

  His dejection when he spoke of immediately leaving England, his respectful manners, the warm and lively affection he seemed to have for her, the advantageous light in which his honourable addresses appeared to her, all contributed to dispose her to meet him; against it there was only that internal sense of prudence, (which, like the voice of conscience, could not be entirely stifled), and the fear of offending her mother. Yet why should her mother be offended? — Considered in every way, whether as to fortune, rank of life, family, or prospects, there could, she thought, be no comparison between Montalbert and Hughson; and if to have her married well was the wish of her parents, why should they be angry at her not declining an acquaintance which seemed likely to end in an establishment above their hopes. There was some truth, but more sophistry, in the arguments she used with herself to conquer her remaining apprehensions; when, having determined to venture, since it could be but for once, she left the house, and, trembling and looking behind her at every step, hastened through the heavy dews and gray fogs of a late October morning to the copse where she had first unexpectedly met Vyvian and Montalbert, and where he had told her he should be very early on this morning, the last of his stay in the country, in hopes of her giving him an opportunity of taking a long leave of her.

  As she had usually been a very early riser, and frequently walked to some neighbouring village, or farm-house, before the rest of the family were risen, the servants and labourers, who saw her pass, took no notice of it, and she had crossed the orchard, and traversed the first copse with the swiftness of an affrighted fawn, before she gave herself time to breathe. The gloomy quiet of every object around her, the heavy gray mists that hung on the half-stripped trees, their sallow leaves slowly falling in her path, had something particularly aweful and oppressive: she could hardly draw her breath, and her heart beat so violently that she leaned against the style that in one place divided the wood. “Whither am I going? (said she); to meet a man, who till a week since was a stranger to me! How am I sure that he will not despise me for this early compliance; perhaps I shall forfeit his good opinion — perhaps — surely it were better to retreat.” There was, however, no longer time to hesitate, for at the end of the path before her Montalbert appeared. He sprang forward eagerly the moment he saw her— “This is very good, dearest Miss Lessington, (cried he); how infinitely I am obliged to you!”

  “And now, (said Rosalie, collecting all her resolution), let me not risk my mother’s displeasure by staying long; but receive, Sir — receive my sincere good wishes for your health and happiness, and suffer me to bid you adieu!”

  “Good Heavens! (replied he), and will you already leave me? — No, Rosalie, our time is precious, and I will not throw it away in a profusion of words: I love you, and am sensible that on you alone depends the happiness of my future life. I will not, however, deceive you: I am a younger brother; and though the fortune of my family is very considerable, much of my expectations depend on my mother, who is a native of another country, who has hardly ever been in England, and who dislikes the customs, the manners, and, above all, the religion of this; with a great number of prejudices, which contribute but little to the happiness of her family, nor, I fear, to her own; she has, however, always been to me an affectionate, if not a tender mother, and it would be equally ungrateful and impolitic, were I to act in absolute defiance of her known wishes. Yet, surely, a medium may be found — without incurring her displeasure, I may escape the misery of resigning the only woman I ever saw, with whom I wish to pass my whole life.”

  “I do not see how, (answered Rosalie, trembling and faltering). No, Sir; however flattered I may be by your good
opinion, I entreat you to think of me no more, otherwise than as a friend. The obstacles between us are insurmountable, and —— — —”

  “Not if you do not make them so, Rosalie, (interrupted he). Hear me with patience: Though you may think my mother’s known aversion to my marrying an English woman and a Protestant, together with the state of my fortune, sufficient reasons for refusing immediately to unite your destiny with mine — yet surely you need not therefore refuse to remove the fear, the tormenting fear, of losing you, by promising that you will not give yourself to another, at least till I have attempted to conquer the obstacles that oppose my happiness. O Rosalie! if you had any idea of the agonies I feel, when I think that while I return to Italy in the hope of finding a remedy against the perverseness of my destiny, the object of my affections may be the wife of another — even of this Hughson, on whom it seems to be the resolution of your family to throw you away.”

  “If it be any satisfaction to you, Sir, (said Rosalie in a low voice), to know that Mr. Hughson can never be more to me than a common acquaintance, I most positively assure you of it.”

  “I am persuaded you think so now, (answered Montalbert with vivacity); but who shall assure me, Rosalie, that you can always resist the importunities, the commands of your father; family convenience, and what is called the voice of prudence, and all those motives that may be urged to enforce your obedience? Besides, if you should have resolution enough to dismiss this man, how many others are there who may have the same pretensions? No, nothing can give me a moment’s peace, unless you promise me, loveliest of creatures, that you will await my return from Italy — that you will then be mine, if the obstacles now between us can be removed.”

  “On so short an acquaintance, can I, ought I, to promise this?” replied Rosalie with increased emotion. She then, though in broken sentences, and in a faint and low voice, urged all the reasons there were against her forming such an engagement; but Montalbert found means to convince her of their fallacy one by one, till at length he extorted from her the promise he demanded. He insisted on being allowed to cut off a lock of her hair, and on her taking a miniature of himself which he drew from his pocket, and which he owned had been drawn in London for his mother. He then told her that he should write to her, and that she must find some means of their securely corresponding. This Rosalie declared was quite impossible; but while he was pressing her to reflect farther, a loud voice was heard in the part of the wood adjoining the orchard calling on Rosalie. Terror now seized her. “It is my father, (said she). If he finds you with me, what shall I not suffer! — leave me — leave, me for Heaven’s sake!”

  “You terrify yourself needlessly; it may only be a servant sent to seek you.”

  “And why to seek me, (replied she), if there was no suspicion of my being improperly absent? It is not usual for them to inquire or call after me.”

  Montalbert now saw her so affected with apprehension, that he would not longer detain her; but kissing her hand, and pressing it a moment to his bosom, he told her he would find the means of writing to her, and disappeared, while Rosalie, endeavouring to recollect and compose herself, took the path that led towards home.

  CHAPTER 6

  HAD it indeed been Mr. Lessington himself, who had thus loudly summoned his daughter to return home, it would have been difficult for her to have concealed from him the agitation of her mind, notwithstanding her utmost endeavours to compose herself; but it was only Abraham, a servant who was occasionally bailiff, coachman, footman, groom, or whatever was wanted in the family, who, approaching her out of breath, cried, “Lord, Miss, I’ve been ever so long looking a’ter you....Why, here a been all on em looking for your coming; for what d’ye think?”

  “Indeed, I don’t know,” replied Rosalie, breathless, and terrified at this preamble.

  “Ah! Miss — Miss! — you can’t guess whose come?”

  “No! no! Abraham — do pray tell me?”

  “I’ve got a good mind not, for your giving me such a dance after you. (Abraham had seen her grow up from infancy, and was no observer of forms). However, I’ll tell you for once: ’tis both our young masters; ’tis Mr. William from Oxford, and Mr. Francis from London — both — both on um be comed to be present at the wedding, and a rare time we shall all on us have on’t I warrant too.”

  “I am very glad, indeed, (said Rosalie, relieved from a thousand apprehensions of she knew not what). I thought my brother William would not be here till to-morrow, and as for Frank, I did not know he was expected.” She then hastened into the house, and in meeting her brothers, particularly the eldest, to whom she was much attached, the embarrassment of her manner was not remarked, nor was any inquiry made where she had been.

  It was not till she retired to dress for dinner that she was at liberty to reflect on all that had passed with Montalbert. The promise she had given seemed to be a relief to her spirits, when she remembered that it should make her consider herself as betrothed to the only man in the world whom she preferred to all others; that she had now the best reasons in the world to strengthen her resolution, never to listen to Hughson; reasons, which if she dared plead them, her father himself could not disapprove. She ran over in her mind every look, every sentence of Montalbert, and sincerity and tenderness seemed to dwell upon his tongue. What but real affection could induce him to speak, to act as he had done? and what could be so fortunate as her inspiring such a man with a passion such as he professed to feel for her. A consciousness of attractions, which till very lately she had never suspected that she possessed, gave her a momentary pleasure; but she felt that those attractions would have been without value, had they not secured for her the heart of Montalbert.

  Soon dressed for the day, she sat in the window of her bed chamber, pensively looking towards the quarter where Holmwood House was situated, though she could not distinguish it. “He is gone! (said she). Already he is on his way to London; in a few days after he arrives there he will leave it — will leave England — the sea will be between us!” She took out the picture he had given her, and, for the third time since it had been in her possession, fixed her eyes earnestly upon it. The candour and integrity of the countenance struck her particularly. “Never, (sighed she), can the heart that belongs to these features be otherwise than generous, tender, and sincere.” She was thus feeding the infant passion which had taken entire possession of her mind, and was lost in thought, holding the picture still in her hand, when her elder brother opened the door. “Are you dressed, Rosalie? (said he), and may I come in?”— “O yes! yes! brother, (answered she, hurrying the picture into her pocket), pray come in.”

  “I have a great deal to say to you, my dear Rose, (said he); come, give me a place in the window by you. You are very much improved, my love, since I saw you last; I don’t wonder at the havoc you make; but my mother complains of you, Rose.”

  “On what account, my brother? I am sure I never intentionally offended my mother.”

  “But she tells me that you have now an opportunity of marrying extremely well, but that from some unaccountable perverseness, or unreasonable prejudice, or perhaps, (added he, fixing his eyes earnestly on hers), perhaps through some unhappy predilection, you drive from you, with contempt and disdain, a man every way unexceptionable.”

  “You have seen him, brother, (answered Rosalie), and can tell whether you think him all that my mother has represented.”

  “I have only seen him for a moment, and have hardly exchanged ten words with him. His person is neither good nor bad, but surely my sister has too much sense to refuse a man merely because he is not an Adonis.”

  “But indeed, brother, it is not that. Mr. Hughson is a man, whom it is impossible I can ever like: he is silly , noisy, and conceited; a boaster, and a sort of man whom I know will displease you when you see more of him. I dare say his fortune is greater than I have a right to expect; but I never saw a man more likely to spend a fortune than he is, and I cannot think there is much worldly wisdom in marrying a man with
whom I might enjoy a short affluence, that would only make me feel more severely the indigence he might reduce me to.”

  “All that is very well, (said William Lessington); but tell me, Rosalie, what do you say as to this prepossession in favour of another, of which my mother accuses you?”

  “I can say nothing, (replied she), because I — because I know that — indeed I do not know who she means.”

  “Is there no such predilection existing then, Rosalie?”

  “Not for the person my mother thinks of,” answered she, colouring still higher.

  “You allow there is for some other then?”

  “Not at all — I am sure I did not say any thing like that; but if there were, why, my dear brother, should it of necessity be in favour of a person who would disgrace my family?”

  “There may be very improper attachments, Rosalie, (replied he very gravely), which may not be disgraceful in the usual acceptation of the word: as, for example, if a young woman should be flattered into a partiality for a boy of a different religion, and in whose power it could never be to fulfill any promise which a childish passion might induce him to make. (The complection of Rosalie changed to a deeper scarlet). I see how it is, my sister, (added he), and will now distress you no farther; but I trust to your own sweetness and candour to give me an opportunity of discussing this matter when we are both more at leisure.......I believe dinner is now ready.”

  “Before you go, my dear William, (cried Rosalie, recovering herself a little), let me assure you, that my mother has no grounds whatever for her suspicions, but because Mr. Charles Vyvian has appeared particularly pleased at our meeting, and what was more natural? We were brought up together from children. As to myself, I certainly did the other night find more pleasure in talking to my old friend, whose mother I love so much, and am so much obliged to, than in dancing with Hughson, who is the most disagreeable man in the world to me — perhaps I might be rude to him — I am afraid I was; but why would my mother compel me to dance with him?”