Barford Abbey Part 7

He perceived I was distress'd, and whisper'd me as I mounted my horse,--You see how it is, Molesworth; breeding women _must_ not be contradicted.--

_I do, I do_ see how it is, return'd I; and could not for my soul forbear saying, I shall rejoice to hear of a _delivery_.

This is the day when the important affairs of the m----y are to be settled; the papers will inform you; but can a man in love have any relish for politics?--Pray, divest yourself of that plague, when you attend the house.--I should drop to hear you say you espouse _this_ or _that_ cause, for the love of _Miss Warley_, instead of your _country_.

_Next Friday!_--Well, I long to see you after a dreadful, dreadful absence of _eight days_.--There is something confounded ridiculous in all this stuff; nor can I scarce credit that man should pine, fret, and make himself unhappy, because he is loosed from the ap.r.o.n-strings of his Phillida for a few days.--I see you shrug;--but my fate is not dependent on your prognostications.--Was it so, I know where I should be,--down amongst the _dead_ men;--down amongst the _dead_ men.--

However, I would consent to be rank'd in the number of Cupid's slain, could I be hit by just such a dart as pierc'd you.

Vulcan certainly has none ready made that will do, unless he sharpens the points of those which have already recoiled.

But hold; I must descend from the clouds, to regale myself on a fine turtle at the Duke of R----d's. What an _epicure!_ Talk of feasting my palate, when my eyes are to meet delicacies of a far more inviting nature!--There _was_ a time I should have been envy'd _such_ a repast:--_that_ time is fled;--_you_ are no longer a monopolizer of beauty;--can sing but of _one_,--talk but of _one_--dream but of _one_,--and, what is still more extraordinary, love but _one_.--

Give _me_ a heart at large;--such confin'd notions are not for

MOLESWORTH.

LETTER XV.

Lord DARCEY to the Honourable GEORGE MOLESWORTH.

_Barford Abbey_.

I envy not the greatest monarch on earth!--She is return'd with my peace;--my joy;--my very soul.--Had you seen her restorative smiles!

they spoke more than my pen can describe!--She bestow'd them on me, even before she ran to the arms of Sir James and Lady Powis.--Sweet condescension!--Her hand held out to meet mine, which, trembling, stopt half way.--What checks,--what restraint, did I inflict on myself!--Yes, that would have been the decisive moment, had I not perceiv'd the eyes of Argus planted _before, behind_, on _every side_ of Sir James.--G.o.d!

how he star'd.--I suppose my looks made some discovery.--Once more I must take thee up, uneasy dress of hypocrisy;--though it will be as hard to girt on, as the tight waistcoat on a lunatic.

Never has a day appear'd to me so long as _this_.--_Full_ of expectation, _full_ of impatience!--All stuff again.--No matter; it is not the groans of a sick man, that can convey his pain to another:--to feel greatly, you must have been afflicted with the same malady.

I suppose you would laugh to hear how often I have opened and shut the door;--how often look'd out at the window,--or the multiplicity of times examined my watch since ten this morning!--Needless would it likewise be to recount the impatient steps I have taken by the road-side, attentive to the false winds, which would frequently cheat me into a belief, that my heart's treasure was approaching.--Hark! I should say, that must be wheels;--stop and pause;--walk forwards;--stop again, till every sound have died upon my ear.

Harra.s.s'd by expectation, I saunter'd a back way to Jenkings's;--enquired of Mrs. Jenkings, what time she thought her husband might be home; and taking Edmund with me to my former walk, determined to sound _his_ inclinations.--I waved mentioning Miss Warley's name till we had gone near a quarter of a mile from the house; still expecting he would begin the subject, which at this juncture I suppose particularly engaged his attention; but perceiving he led to things quite opposite, I drew him out in the following manner.

So you really think, Edmund, your father will not be out after it is dark?

I have not known, my Lord, that he has for many years; rather than venture, I believe, he would stop the night at Oxford. Very composedly he said this, for I watched his looks narrowly.--

Edmund, confess, confess _frankly_, said I; has not _this_ day been the longest you ever knew?

The longest I ever knew! Faith your Lordship was never more out: far from thinking so, I am startled to find how fast the hours have flown; and want the addition of at least three, to answer letters which my father's business requires.

Business, _Edmund!_ and does _business_ really engross so much of your attention, when you know _who_ is expected in the evening? Ah! _Edmund_, you are a sly fellow: never tell me, you want to lengthen out the tedious hours of _absence_.

_Tedious hours of absence!_ Ho! ho! my Lord, I see _now_ what you are at; your Lordship can never suppose me _such_ a fool as to--

Fool!--My supposition, _Edmund_, p.r.o.nounces you a man of sense; but you mistake my meaning.

I do not mistake, my Lord; surely it must be the height of folly to lift my thoughts to Miss Warley. Suppose my father can give me a few thousands,--are these sufficient to purchase beauty, good sense, with every accomplishment?--No, no, my Lord, I am not such a vain fellow;--Miss Warley was never born for _Edmund Jenkings_--She told me _so_, the first moment I beheld her.

_Told you so?_ what then, you have made pretensions to her, and she told you _so?_

Yes, my Lord, she told, me _so_.--That is, her _eyes_, her whole graceful _form_, spoke it.--Was I a man of family,--a man of t.i.tle, with a proper knowledge of the world,--I would not deliberate a moment.

How comes it then, Edmund, that you are so a.s.siduous to oblige her?--You would not run and fly for every young lady.--

True, my Lord, it is not every one would repay me with smiles of condescension. Suffer me to a.s.sure your Lordship, when I can oblige Miss Warley, my ambition is gratified.--Never, _never_ shall a more presumptuous wish intrude to make me less worthy of the honour I receive from your Lordship's notice.--

This he spoke with energy;--such energy,--as if he had come at the book of my heart, and was reading its contents. I knew his regard for my dear amiable girl, and the danger of betraying my secret, or should have treated him with unbounded confidence:--I therefore only applauded his sentiments;--told him a man who could think thus n.o.bly,--honour'd me in his friendship;--that mine to him should be unalterable; call'd him brother; and by the joyful perturbations of my soul, I fear I gave him some idea of what I strove to hide.

The curtain of night was dropping by slow degrees, when a distant sound of wheels interrupted our conversation.--We stood listening a moment, as it approach'd nearer. Edmund cry'd out,--They are come; I hear, Caesar's voice; and, taking a hearty leave, ran home to receive them.--I directed my course towards the Abbey, in hopes the chaise had proceeded thither, and found I had steer'd right, seeing it stand at the entrance.

Mr. Jenkings did not get out; Lady Powis refused to part with Miss Warley this night. Whilst I write, I hope she is enjoying a sweet refreshing sleep. O! Molesworth! could I flatter myself she dreams of me!--

To-morrow Lord and Lady Allen, Mr. and Mrs. Winter, dine here; consequently Miss Winter, and her _fond_ admirer, Lord Baily.--How often have I laugh'd to see that cooing, billing, pair? It is come home, you'll say, with a vengeance.--Not so neither.--I never intend making such a very fool of myself as Lord Baily.--Pray, Madam, don't sit against that door;--and pray, Madam, don't sit against this window.--I hear you have encreased your cold;--you speak hoa.r.s.e:--indeed, Madam, you speak hoa.r.s.e, though you won't confess it.--In this strain has the monkey ran on for two hours.--No body must help him at table but Miss Winter.--He is always sure to eat whatever is next her.--She, equally complaisant, sends her plate to him;--desires he will have a bit of the same.--Excessively high, my Lord;--you never eat any thing so well done.--The appearance of fruit is generally the occasion of great altercation:--What! venture on peaches again, Miss Winter?--Indeed, my Lord, I shall only eat this small one;--that was not half ripe which made me sick yesterday.--No more nuts; I absolutely lay an embargo on nuts,--No more, nonsense: I absolutely lay an embargo on nonsense, says Molesworth to

DARCEY.

LETTER XVI.

Miss WARLEY to Lady MARY SUTTON.

_Barford Abbey_.

Once more, my dear Lady, I dispatch a packet from this place,--after bidding adieu to the agreeable Dean,--Brandon Lodge,--and my friends in that neighbourhood.

How long I shall continue here, G.o.d only knows.--If my wishes could avail, the time would be short; very short, indeed.--I am quite out of patience with Mr. and Mrs. Smith; some delay every time I hear from them.--First, we were to embark the middle of this month;--then the latter end;--now it is put off till the beginning of the next:--perhaps, when I hear next, it will be, they do not go at all.--Such weak resolutions are never to be depended on;--a straw, like a magnet, will draw them from side to side.

I think I am as much an inhabitant of this house as of Mr.

Jenkings's:--I lay here last night after my journey, and shall dine here this day; but as a great deal of company is expected, must go to my _other_ home to dress.--To-morrow your Ladyship shall command me.

From Mr. _Jenkings's_.

Rejoice with me, my dear Lady.--You _will_ rejoice, I know, you _will_.

to find my eyes are open to my folly.--How could I be so vain; so presumptuous!--Yes, it must be vanity, it must be presumption to the highest,--gloss it over as I will,--to harbour thoughts which before this your Ladyship is acquainted with.--Did you not blush for me?--did you not in contempt throw aside my letter?--Undoubtedly you did.--Go, you said.--I am sure, dear Madam, you _must_ let me not again behold the weakness of that poor silly girl.--But this is my hope, you are not apt to judge unfavourably, _even_ in circ.u.mstances that will scarce admit of palliation.--Tell me, my dear Lady, I am pardoned; tell me so, and I shall never be again unhappy.--How charming, to have _peace_ and _tranquility_ restor'd, when I fear'd they were for _ever_ banish'd my breast!--I welcomed the friends;--my heart bounded at their return;--I smiled on them;--soothed them;--and promised never more to drive them out.

Thank you, Lord Allen;--again, I thank you:--can I ever be too grateful?--You have been instrumental to my repose.

The company that dined at the Abbey yesterday were Lord and Lady Allen, Lord Baily, Mr. Mrs. and Miss Winter.--This was the first day I changed my mourning;--a white lutestring, with the fine suit of rough garnets your Ladyship gave me, was my dress on the occasion.--But let me proceed to the incident for which I stand indebted for the secret tranquility, the innate repose I now possess in a _superlative_ degree.--