LADY SUSAN
PART 4
XVI
LADY
SUSAN TO MRS. JOHNSON
Churchill.
Never,
my dearest Alicia, was I so provoked in my life as by a letter this morning
from Miss Summers. That horrid girl of mine has been trying to run away. I had
not a notion of her being such a little devil before, she seemed to have all
the Vernon milkiness; but on receiving the letter in which I declared my
intention about Sir James, she actually attempted to elope; at least, I cannot
otherwise account for her doing it. She meant, I suppose, to go to the Clarkes
in Staffordshire, for she has no other acquaintances. But she shall be
punished, she shall have him. I have sent Charles to town to make matters up if
he can, for I do not by any means want her here. If Miss Summers will not keep
her, you must find me out another school, unless we can get her married
immediately. Miss S. writes word that she could not get the young lady to
assign any cause for her extraordinary conduct, which confirms me in my own
previous explanation of it. Frederica is too shy, I think, and too much in awe
of me to tell tales, but if the mildness of her uncle should get anything out
of her, I am not afraid. I trust I shall be able to make my story as good as
hers. If I am vain of anything, it is of my eloquence. Consideration and esteem
as surely follow command of language as admiration waits on beauty, and here I
have opportunity enough for the exercise of my talent, as the chief of my time
is spent in conversation.
Reginald
is never easy unless we are by ourselves, and when the weather is tolerable, we
pace the shrubbery for hours together. I like him on the whole very well; he is
clever and has a good deal to say, but he is sometimes impertinent and
troublesome. There is a sort of ridiculous delicacy about him which requires
the fullest explanation of whatever he may have heard to my disadvantage, and is
never satisfied till he thinks he has ascertained the beginning and end of
everything. This is one sort of love, but I confess it does not particularly
recommend itself to me. I infinitely prefer the tender and liberal spirit of
Mainwaring, which, impressed with the deepest conviction of my merit, is
satisfied that whatever I do must be right; and look with a degree of contempt
on the inquisitive and doubtful fancies of that heart which seems always
debating on the reasonableness of its emotions. Mainwaring is indeed, beyond
all compare, superior to Reginald—superior in everything but the power of being
with me! Poor fellow! he is much distracted by jealousy, which I am not sorry
for, as I know no better support of love. He has been teazing me to allow of his
coming into this country, and lodging somewhere near INCOG.; but I forbade
everything of the kind. Those women are inexcusable who forget what is due to
themselves, and the opinion of the world.
Yours
ever, S. VERNON.
XVII
MRS.
VERNON TO LADY DE COURCY
Churchill.
My
dear Mother,—Mr. Vernon returned on Thursday night, bringing his niece with
him. Lady Susan had received a line from him by that day's post, informing her
that Miss Summers had absolutely refused to allow of Miss Vernon's continuance
in her academy; we were therefore prepared for her arrival, and expected them
impatiently the whole evening. They came while we were at tea, and I never saw
any creature look so frightened as Frederica when she entered the room. Lady
Susan, who had been shedding tears before, and showing great agitation at the
idea of the meeting, received her with perfect self-command, and without
betraying the least tenderness of spirit. She hardly spoke to her, and on
Frederica's bursting into tears as soon as we were seated, took her out of the
room, and did not return for some time. When she did, her eyes looked very red
and she was as much agitated as before. We saw no more of her daughter. Poor
Reginald was beyond measure concerned to see his fair friend in such distress,
and watched her with so much tender solicitude, that I, who occasionally caught
her observing his countenance with exultation, was quite out of patience. This
pathetic representation lasted the whole evening, and so ostentatious and
artful a display has entirely convinced me that she did in fact feel nothing. I
am more angry with her than ever since I have seen her daughter; the poor girl
looks so unhappy that my heart aches for her. Lady Susan is surely too severe,
for Frederica does not seem to have the sort of temper to make severity
necessary. She looks perfectly timid, dejected, and penitent. She is very
pretty, though not so handsome as her mother, nor at all like her. Her
complexion is delicate, but neither so fair nor so blooming as Lady Susan's,
and she has quite the Vernon cast of countenance, the oval face and mild dark
eyes, and there is peculiar sweetness in her look when she speaks either to her
uncle or me, for as we behave kindly to her we have of course engaged her
gratitude.
Her
mother has insinuated that her temper is intractable, but I never saw a face
less indicative of any evil disposition than hers; and from what I can see of
the behaviour of each to the other, the invariable severity of Lady Susan and
the silent dejection of Frederica, I am led to believe as heretofore that the
former has no real love for her daughter, and has never done her justice or
treated her affectionately. I have not been able to have any conversation with
my niece; she is shy, and I think I can see that some pains are taken to
prevent her being much with me. Nothing satisfactory transpires as to her
reason for running away. Her kind-hearted uncle, you may be sure, was too
fearful of distressing her to ask many questions as they travelled. I wish it
had been possible for me to fetch her instead of him. I think I should have
discovered the truth in the course of a thirty-mile journey. The small
pianoforte has been removed within these few days, at Lady Susan's request,
into her dressing-room, and Frederica spends great part of the day there,
practising as it is called; but I seldom hear any noise when I pass that way;
what she does with herself there I do not know. There are plenty of books, but
it is not every girl who has been running wild the first fifteen years of her
life, that can or will read. Poor creature! the prospect from her window is not
very instructive, for that room overlooks the lawn, you know, with the
shrubbery on one side, where she may see her mother walking for an hour
together in earnest conversation with Reginald. A girl of Frederica's age must
be childish indeed, if such things do not strike her. Is it not inexcusable to
give such an example to a daughter? Yet Reginald still thinks Lady Susan the
best of mothers, and still condemns Frederica as a worthless girl! He is
convinced that her attempt to run away proceeded from no, justifiable cause,
and had no provocation. I am sure I cannot say that it HAD, but while Miss
Summers declares that Miss Vernon showed no signs of obstinacy or perverseness
during her whole stay in Wigmore Street, till she was detected in this scheme,
I cannot so readily credit what Lady Susan has made him, and wants to make me
believe, that it was merely an impatience of restraint and a desire of escaping
from the tuition of masters which brought on the plan of an elopement. O
Reginald, how is your judgment enslaved! He scarcely dares even allow her to be
handsome, and when I speak of her beauty, replies only that her eyes have no
brilliancy! Sometimes he is sure she is deficient in understanding, and at
others that her temper only is in fault. In short, when a person is always to
deceive, it is impossible to be consistent. Lady Susan finds it necessary that
Frederica should be to blame, and probably has sometimes judged it expedient to
excuse her of ill-nature and sometimes to lament her want of sense. Reginald is
only repeating after her ladyship.
I
remain, &c., &c.,
XVIII
FROM
THE SAME TO THE SAME
Churchill.
My
dear Mother,—I am very glad to find that my description of Frederica Vernon has
interested you, for I do believe her truly deserving of your regard; and when I
have communicated a notion which has recently struck me, your kind impressions
in her favour will, I am sure, be heightened. I cannot help fancying that she
is growing partial to my brother. I so very often see her eyes fixed on his
face with a remarkable expression of pensive admiration. He is certainly very
handsome; and yet more, there is an openness in his manner that must be highly
prepossessing, and I am sure she feels it so. Thoughtful and pensive in
general, her countenance always brightens into a smile when Reginald says
anything amusing; and, let the subject be ever so serious that he may be
conversing on, I am much mistaken if a syllable of his uttering escapes her. I
want to make him sensible of all this, for we know the power of gratitude on
such a heart as his; and could Frederica's artless affection detach him from
her mother, we might bless the day which brought her to Churchill. I think, my
dear mother, you would not disapprove of her as a daughter. She is extremely
young, to be sure, has had a wretched education, and a dreadful example of
levity in her mother; but yet I can pronounce her disposition to be excellent,
and her natural abilities very good. Though totally without accomplishments,
she is by no means so ignorant as one might expect to find her, being fond of
books and spending the chief of her time in reading. Her mother leaves her more
to herself than she did, and I have her with me as much as possible, and have
taken great pains to overcome her timidity. We are very good friends, and
though she never opens her lips before her mother, she talks enough when alone
with me to make it clear that, if properly treated by Lady Susan, she would
always appear to much greater advantage. There cannot be a more gentle,
affectionate heart; or more obliging manners, when acting without restraint;
and her little cousins are all very fond of her.
Your
affectionate daughter,
XIX
LADY
SUSAN TO MRS. JOHNSON
Churchill.
You
will be eager, I know, to hear something further of Frederica, and perhaps may
think me negligent for not writing before. She arrived with her uncle last
Thursday fortnight, when, of course, I lost no time in demanding the cause of
her behaviour; and soon found myself to have been perfectly right in
attributing it to my own letter. The prospect of it frightened her so
thoroughly, that, with a mixture of true girlish perverseness and folly, she
resolved on getting out of the house and proceeding directly by the stage to
her friends, the Clarkes; and had really got as far as the length of two
streets in her journey when she was fortunately missed, pursued, and overtaken.
Such was the first distinguished exploit of Miss Frederica Vernon; and, if we
consider that it was achieved at the tender age of sixteen, we shall have room
for the most flattering prognostics of her future renown. I am excessively
provoked, however, at the parade of propriety which prevented Miss Summers from
keeping the girl; and it seems so extraordinary a piece of nicety, considering
my daughter's family connections, that I can only suppose the lady to be
governed by the fear of never getting her money. Be that as it may, however,
Frederica is returned on my hands; and, having nothing else to employ her, is
busy in pursuing the plan of romance begun at Langford. She is actually falling
in love with Reginald De Courcy! To disobey her mother by refusing an
unexceptionable offer is not enough; her affections must also be given without
her mother's approbation. I never saw a girl of her age bid fairer to be the
sport of mankind. Her feelings are tolerably acute, and she is so charmingly
artless in their display as to afford the most reasonable hope of her being
ridiculous, and despised by every man who sees her.
Artlessness
will never do in love matters; and that girl is born a simpleton who has it
either by nature or affectation. I am not yet certain that Reginald sees what
she is about, nor is it of much consequence. She is now an object of indifference
to him, and she would be one of contempt were he to understand her emotions.
Her beauty is much admired by the Vernons, but it has no effect on him. She is
in high favour with her aunt altogether, because she is so little like myself,
of course. She is exactly the companion for Mrs. Vernon, who dearly loves to be
firm, and to have all the sense and all the wit of the conversation to herself:
Frederica will never eclipse her. When she first came I was at some pains to
prevent her seeing much of her aunt; but I have relaxed, as I believe I may
depend on her observing the rules I have laid down for their discourse. But do
not imagine that with all this lenity I have for a moment given up my plan of
her marriage. No; I am unalterably fixed on this point, though I have not yet
quite decided on the manner of bringing it about. I should not chuse to have
the business brought on here, and canvassed by the wise heads of Mr. and Mrs.
Vernon; and I cannot just now afford to go to town. Miss Frederica must therefore
wait a little.
Yours
ever,
XX
MRS.
VERNON TO LADY DE COURCY
Churchill
We
have a very unexpected guest with us at present, my dear Mother: he arrived
yesterday. I heard a carriage at the door, as I was sitting with my children while
they dined; and supposing I should be wanted, left the nursery soon afterwards,
and was half-way downstairs, when Frederica, as pale as ashes, came running up,
and rushed by me into her own room. I instantly followed, and asked her what
was the matter. "Oh!" said she, "he is come—Sir James is come,
and what shall I do?" This was no explanation; I begged her to tell me
what she meant. At that moment we were interrupted by a knock at the door: it
was Reginald, who came, by Lady Susan's direction, to call Frederica down.
"It is Mr. De Courcy!" said she, colouring violently. "Mamma has
sent for me; I must go." We all three went down together; and I saw my
brother examining the terrified face of Frederica with surprize. In the
breakfast-room we found Lady Susan, and a young man of gentlemanlike
appearance, whom she introduced by the name of Sir James Martin—the very
person, as you may remember, whom it was said she had been at pains to detach
from Miss Mainwaring; but the conquest, it seems, was not designed for herself,
or she has since transferred it to her daughter; for Sir James is now
desperately in love with Frederica, and with full encouragement from mamma. The
poor girl, however, I am sure, dislikes him; and though his person and address
are very well, he appears, both to Mr. Vernon and me, a very weak young man.
Frederica looked so shy, so confused, when we entered the room, that I felt for
her exceedingly. Lady Susan behaved with great attention to her visitor; and
yet I thought I could perceive that she had no particular pleasure in seeing
him. Sir James talked a great deal, and made many civil excuses to me for the
liberty he had taken in coming to Churchill—mixing more frequent laughter with
his discourse than the subject required—said many things over and over again,
and told Lady Susan three times that he had seen Mrs. Johnson a few evenings
before. He now and then addressed Frederica, but more frequently her mother.
The poor girl sat all this time without opening her lips—her eyes cast down,
and her colour varying every instant; while Reginald observed all that passed
in perfect silence. At length Lady Susan, weary, I believe, of her situation,
proposed walking; and we left the two gentlemen together, to put on our
pelisses. As we went upstairs Lady Susan begged permission to attend me for a
few moments in my dressing-room, as she was anxious to speak with me in
private. I led her thither accordingly, and as soon as the door was closed, she
said: "I was never more surprized in my life than by Sir James's arrival,
and the suddenness of it requires some apology to you, my dear sister; though
to ME, as a mother, it is highly flattering. He is so extremely attached to my
daughter that he could not exist longer without seeing her. Sir James is a
young man of an amiable disposition and excellent character; a little too much
of the rattle, perhaps, but a year or two will rectify THAT: and he is in other
respects so very eligible a match for Frederica, that I have always observed
his attachment with the greatest pleasure; and am persuaded that you and my
brother will give the alliance your hearty approbation. I have never before
mentioned the likelihood of its taking place to anyone, because I thought that
whilst Frederica continued at school it had better not be known to exist; but
now, as I am convinced that Frederica is too old ever to submit to school
confinement, and have, therefore, begun to consider her union with Sir James as
not very distant, I had intended within a few days to acquaint yourself and Mr.
Vernon with the whole business. I am sure, my dear sister, you will excuse my
remaining silent so long, and agree with me that such circumstances, while they
continue from any cause in suspense, cannot be too cautiously concealed. When
you have the happiness of bestowing your sweet little Catherine, some years
hence, on a man who in connection and character is alike unexceptionable, you
will know what I feel now; though, thank Heaven, you cannot have all my reasons
for rejoicing in such an event. Catherine will be amply provided for, and not,
like my Frederica, indebted to a fortunate establishment for the comforts of
life." She concluded by demanding my congratulations. I gave them somewhat
awkwardly, I believe; for, in fact, the sudden disclosure of so important a
matter took from me the power of speaking with any clearness. She thanked me,
however, most affectionately, for my kind concern in the welfare of herself and
daughter; and then said: "I am not apt to deal in professions, my dear
Mrs. Vernon, and I never had the convenient talent of affecting sensations
foreign to my heart; and therefore I trust you will believe me when I declare,
that much as I had heard in your praise before I knew you, I had no idea that I
should ever love you as I now do; and I must further say that your friendship
towards me is more particularly gratifying because I have reason to believe
that some attempts were made to prejudice you against me. I only wish that
they, whoever they are, to whom I am indebted for such kind intentions, could
see the terms on which we now are together, and understand the real affection
we feel for each other; but I will not detain you any longer. God bless you,
for your goodness to me and my girl, and continue to you all your present
happiness." What can one say of such a woman, my dear mother? Such
earnestness such solemnity of expression! and yet I cannot help suspecting the
truth of everything she says. As for Reginald, I believe he does not know what
to make of the matter. When Sir James came, he appeared all astonishment and
perplexity; the folly of the young man and the confusion of Frederica entirely
engrossed him; and though a little private discourse with Lady Susan has since
had its effect, he is still hurt, I am sure, at her allowing of such a man's
attentions to her daughter. Sir James invited himself with great composure to
remain here a few days—hoped we would not think it odd, was aware of its being
very impertinent, but he took the liberty of a relation; and concluded by
wishing, with a laugh, that he might be really one very soon. Even Lady Susan
seemed a little disconcerted by this forwardness; in her heart I am persuaded
she sincerely wished him gone. But something must be done for this poor girl,
if her feelings are such as both I and her uncle believe them to be. She must
not be sacrificed to policy or ambition, and she must not be left to suffer
from the dread of it. The girl whose heart can distinguish Reginald De Courcy,
deserves, however he may slight her, a better fate than to be Sir James
Martin's wife. As soon as I can get her alone, I will discover the real truth;
but she seems to wish to avoid me. I hope this does not proceed from anything
wrong, and that I shall not find out I have thought too well of her. Her
behaviour to Sir James certainly speaks the greatest consciousness and
embarrassment, but I see nothing in it more like encouragement. Adieu, my dear
mother.
Yours,
&c.,
to be continued
