A Wife's Duty Part 2

Sometimes this conversation was held in a low voice, and then I ceased to listen to it; but when they spoke as usual, I thought I was justified in attending to them.

"Look there!" said Lord Charles, as we were pa.s.sing a box in which sat two ladies splendidly dressed, accompanied by two gentlemen, "look, Pendarves, there is an old friend of yours!"

"Ha!" said my husband, lowering his voice, "I protest it is she! I did not know she was in England. Who are those men with her?"

"What, are you jealous?"

"Nonsense! Who are they?"

"The man in brown is husband to the lady in blue; and for the sake of a.s.sociating with a t.i.tled lady, which your friend is, you know, he allows his wife, who is not pretty enough to be in danger, to go about with her and her _cher ami_--the young man in green. You know she was always a favourite with young men."

"True, and young indeed must the man be who is taken in by her fascinations."

"But she is wonderfully handsome still."

"I hardly looked at her."

"We are pa.s.sing her again--_Now_, then, look at her if you dare."

"Dare!"

"Yes: for her eyes are very like the basilisk's."

"I will risk it."

_I_ too now looked towards the box we were approaching; at the end of which stood a young man in green, hanging over a woman, who though no longer young, and wholly indebted to art for her bloom, appeared to my now jealous eyes the handsomest woman I had ever beheld. I also observed that she saw and recognised my husband; for she suddenly started, and looked disordered, while an expression of anger stole over her face. A sudden stop in the crowd, to allow the PRINCE and his party to pa.s.s, who were just entering, forced us to be stationary a few minutes before her box. Oh! how my heart beat during this survey! But one thing gratified me: I was sure as I did not see her bow her head or curtsy, that Pendarves did not notice her. And yet, Lord Charles had, uncontradicted, called her his old friend!

Who, then, and what was she? would he tell me? Perhaps he would when he got home; if he did not, I felt that I should be uneasy.

We soon moved on again, and I heard Lord Charles say,

"Cruel Pendarves, not even to look at or touch your hat to her! Surely that would not have committed you in any way."

"It would have been acknowledging her for an acquaintance, which I do not now wish to do, especially in my wife's presence," I conclude he said, for he spoke too low for me to hear; but I judge so from the answer of Lord Charles.

"Oh! then, if your wife was not present, you would not be so cruel?"

"I did not say so."

"No: but you implied it."

"I deny that also."

Then coming up to me, my husband again offered me his arm, and Lord Charles left us. I soon after saw this beautiful woman walking in the circle, and heard her named by the gentleman next me as Lady Bell Singleton--a dashing widow more famed for her beauty and her fascinations than her morals. But Pendarves said nothing; and though she looked very earnestly at him, and examined me from head to foot as I pa.s.sed, I saw that he never turned his eyes on her, and seemed resolved not to see her.

I had therefore every reason to be pleased with my husband's conduct; but I felt great distrust of Lord Charles. I thought he was a man, from what I had overheard, whom I could never like as a companion for Pendarves; and I disliked him the more, because, if I had given him the slightest encouragement, he would have been my devoted and public admirer, and would have delighted to make his attachment to me and our intimacy the theme of conversation. I also saw that my cold reserve had changed his partiality into dislike; and I could readily believe that he would be glad in revenge to wean my husband from me. Still I could not wish that I had treated him otherwise than I did; for I could not have done it without compromising my sense of right, as half measures in such cases are of no avail; and if a married woman does not at once show that pointed and particular admiration is offensive to her, the man who offers it has a right to think his devoirs may in time be acceptable.

Here I may as well give you the character of this friend of my husband's.

Lord Charles Belmour was the son of the Duke of ----; and never was any man more proud of the pre-eminence bestowed by rank and birth: but to do him justice, he began life with a wish to possess more honourable distinctions; and had he been placed in better circ.u.mstances, the world might have heard of him as a man of science, of learning, and of talents.

But he had every thing to deaden his wish of studious fame, and nothing to encourage it. Besides, he was too indolent to toil for that renown which he was ambitious to enjoy; and instead of reading hard at college, he was soon led away into the most unbounded dissipation, while he saw honours daily bestowed on others which he had once earnestly wished to deserve and gain himself. But he quickly drove all weak repinings from him, proudly resolving in future to scorn and undervalue those laurels which could now never be his.

He therefore chose to declare it was beneath a n.o.bleman, or even a gentleman, to gain a prize, or take a high degree; and this a.s.sertion, in which he did not himself believe, was quoted by many an idle dunce, glad so to excuse the ignorance which disgraced him.

But, spite of this pernicious opinion, Lord Charles never sought the society of those who acted upon it; and Pendarves, who had distinguished himself at Oxford, was his favourite companion there.

When Lord Charles entered the world, he gave himself up to all its vanities and irregularities. But he was conscious of great powers, and also conscious that he had suffered them to run waste. Still if he could not employ them in a way to excite admiration, he knew he could do so in a way to excite fear; and after all, power was power, and to possess it was the first wish of his heart.

Accordingly, though conscious he had himself the follies which he lashed, he had no mercy on those of his acquaintance; for, as he himself observed, "it is easier to laugh at the follies of others than amend one's own;" and though courted as an amusing companion, he was often shunned as a dangerous one.

Women, also, who defied him either as a suitor or an enemy, have rued the day when they ventured to dispute his power: but, as I at length discovered, there was one way to disarm him; and that was to own his ability to do harm, and try to conciliate him as an active and efficient friend.

In that case his generous and kind feelings conquered his less amiable ones, and his friendship was as sincere and valuable as his enmity was pernicious.

But, with no uncommon inconsistency, while he declared that he thought a n.o.bleman would disgrace himself if he sung well, or sung at all, or entered the lists in any way with persons _a talens_, he condescended to indulge before those whom he respected in the lowest of all talents, though certainly one of the most amusing, that of mimickry--a gift which usually appertains to other talents, as a border of shining gold to the f.a.g end of a piece of India muslin, looking more showy indeed than the material to which it adheres; but how inferior in value and in price!

But to resume my narrative. My husband did _not_ mention Lady Bell to me. The next time I went to Ranelagh with mixed feelings--for I dreaded to see this lady again, and to observe that Pendarves had chosen at length to own her for an acquaintance; for, had he been sure of never renewing his acquaintance, why should he not have named her to me?

It was also with contending feelings that I found myself obliged to have Mrs. Pendarves as my companion; for though I wished to be informed on the subject of my anxiety, I dreaded it at the same time: and I was sure that she would tell me all she knew.

A nephew of Mrs. Pendarves was our escort to Ranelagh; and my husband, who dined with Lord Charles Belmour (much to my secret sorrow), was to join us there.

My eyes looked every where in search of Lady Bell Singleton, and at length I discovered her. My companion did the same; and with a sort of scream of surprise, she said, "Oh, dear! if there is not Lady Bell Singleton! I thought she was abroad. Do you know, my dear, when she returned to England?"

"How should I know, madam? The very existence of the lady was a stranger to me till the other evening."

"Indeed! Why, do not you really know that is the lady on whose account your mother forbade your marriage with Pendarves?"

"No, madam, my mother was too discreet to explain her reasons."

"Well, my dear, you need not look so uneasy--it was all off long before he married you--though she is a very dangerous woman where she gets a hold, and looks

'So sure of her beholder's heart, Neglecting for to take them.'"

I scarcely heard what she said, for a sick faint feeling came over me at the consciousness that I was now in the presence of a woman for whom Pendarves had undoubtedly felt some sort of regard; but it was jealousy for the past, not of the present, that overcame me, though my husband's total silence with regard to this lady was, I could not but think, an alarming circ.u.mstance. And "it was on her account your mother forbade your marriage with Pendarves" still vibrated painfully in my ears, when Lord Charles and he appeared. With a smile by no means as unconstrained as usual I met him, and accepted his proffered arm. Lord Charles walked with us for a round or two--then left us, whispering as he did so, "Remember! _do_ notice her, she expects it, and I think she has a right to it."

Pendarves muttered, "Well, if it must be so," and his companion disappeared.

"Soon after we saw him with Lady Bell Singleton leaning on his arm; and I felt convinced he had made the acquaintance since we were last at Ranelagh, as he never noticed her till that night. We were now meeting them for the second time, and pa.s.sing close to them, when I saw Lady Bell pointedly try to catch my husband's eye: and no longer avoiding it, he took off his hat, and civilly, though distantly, returned the cordial but silent salutation which she gave him.

"This," thought I, "is in consequence of Lord Charles's interference, and explains what Pendarves meant by 'Well, if I must, I must.'"

How I wished that he would break his silence on this subject, and be ingenuous! But I felt it was a delicate subject for him to treat--and I resolved to break the ice myself.

"That was a very beautiful woman to whom you bowed just now," said I, glad to find that Mrs. Pendarves was looking another way.

"She _has_ been beautiful indeed!" was his reply.