Self control Part 21

'I will not wrong your penetration so much as to suppose that this letter will surprise you, or that you will fail to antic.i.p.ate the subject on the first glance at the signature.

Nor do I write to tell you, in the hackneyed phrase, that the happiness of my whole life depends upon you, because, next to your affection, nothing is so desirable to me as your esteem, and the hope that, though you should reject my suit, you will continue to respect my understanding. But I may with truth declare, that I prefer you to all women; that I love you, not only in spite of your faults, but, perhaps, even the more for them; and that, to forfeit the hope of your affection, would dispel many a long-cherished vision of domestic peace, and even some lighter dreams of rapture. Dearest Harriet, do not, in return for this confession, write me a cold profession of esteem. I know already that you esteem me, for you have long known me possessed of qualities that inevitably engage esteem; but I am conscious of a deficiency in the gifts that excite pa.s.sion, and I dread that I may never awaken sentiments like those I feel. Yet it is no small compliment which I offer, when I suppose you superior to the attractions which captivate the vulgar of your s.e.x; and you may value it the more, because it is perhaps the only one I shall ever pay you.

'To say all this, or something like it, has long been in my thoughts; and, during your late visit to my sister, occupied them more than I shall own; but a dread of I know not what, forced me to let you depart without offering to your acceptance all that I have to offer. I felt a certainty that I was not yet beloved, and, I believe I feared that you, in your lively way, (so I must call it, since no epithet that implies reproof must flow from a lover's pen), would give utterance to the feeling of the moment, and bid me think of you no more. Is it presumption to say, that I hope more from a more considerate decision? Ask your own heart, then, dear Miss De Courcy, whether time and the a.s.siduities of respectful love can beguile you of such tenderness as is due to a confiding affectionate husband. Ask yourself, whether you can ever return my warm attachment, to such a degree as will make the duties of a wife easy and pleasant to you. I need not a.s.sure you that I am not the selfish wretch who could find joy in receiving those which were painfully and reluctantly performed. Be candid with yourself then I adjure you. Fear not that I shall persecute you with importunity or complaint. If it must be so, I will see you no more for some months; and, at the end of that time, shall expect, in reward of my self-conquest, to be received with cordiality as your brother's friend. If your sentence be against me, save yourself the pain of telling me so; for I know that it must be painful to you. Yet judge of the strength of that regard which is thus anxious to shield you from uneasiness, at the moment when it antic.i.p.ates such pain from your hands. If you can give me hope (and, observe, when I say hope, I do not mean certainty), do not tax your delicacy for studied phrases of acceptance, but write me even a common card of invitation to Norwood, and the tenderest billet that ever was penned by woman, never gave more pleasure than it will bring to your very affectionate and obedient servant,

'EDWARD BOLINGBROKE.'

Laura could not help smiling at the composed style of this epistle, so different from the only ones of its kind with which she was conversant.

A lover confess that his mistress had faults, and that he was sensible of them!--insinuate that he expected not only duty, but willing and grateful duty from his wife!--have the boldness to expect, that, if his pa.s.sion were unsuccessful, he should quickly be able to conquer it!

Laura felt no inclination to envy her friend a lover so fully in the exercise of his judgment and foresight; but she was pleased with the plain honest rationality of the letter; and, with the materials before her, immediately busied her imagination in its favourite work of sketching and adorning character.

She was called from her meditation by another pet.i.tion for advice. 'You see,' said Harriet, 'he pretends not to expect certainty; but it is much the same whether one run one's neck into the noose, or gets entangled so that one can't decently get off. If I could _creditably_ contrive to keep him dangling till I had made up my mind,' continued she, ill.u.s.trating the metaphor with her watch-chain. 'Do a.s.sist me, my dear; I am sure you have managed a dozen of them in your time.'

'My experience is not so extensive,' replied Laura, 'and I can really a.s.sist you to no _creditable_ method of trifling.'

'You would not have me resolve to marry a man whom I don't care a farthing for.' 'No, indeed! but I think Mr Bolingbroke would have a right to complain, if you gave hopes which you did not fulfil.' 'You would have me dismiss him at once then?' 'By no means; but I would have you think for yourself on a subject of which no other person can judge; and remember, my dear, that, as your decision has neither been wrested from you by surprise, nor seduced from you by persuasion, you have no excuse for forming a weak or wavering resolution.'

Determined that on such a subject she would deliver no opinion, Laura was relieved from some embarra.s.sment by the return of De Courcy. His reflections during his ride had effectually quelled the exuberance of his spirits, and he endeavoured to repair his unguardedness by distant politeness. His manner increased the feeling of restraint of which Laura could not at that time divest herself; and after a short and constrained sequel to a visit which had begun so differently, Montague hurried his sister away.

'I shall never conquer her indifference,' said he to his mother, after relating the folly of the morning. 'Had you seen her frozen look of displeasure, you would have been convinced.' 'And how, my dear Montague, could you expect Miss Montreville to receive such freedom? like a little village coquette gasping at the prospect of a first lover? If you are convinced that your secret would still be heard without pleasure, you must redouble your caution to preserve it. But suffer me to warn you against the extreme of reserve in which I have sometimes observed that you are apt to fall. It can only confirm suspicions if they are excited; if not, it will disgust by an appearance of caprice.'

Montague promised to be guarded; and withdrew to seek in his laboratory a refuge from despondence. Those who pursue worldly gains and vulgar pleasures, must cheerlessly toil on, waiting for their reward till their end is attained; but the pursuits of science and of virtue have this advantage peculiar to themselves, that there is reward in the labour, even though the success be only partial; and, in half an hour, all Montague's cares were absorbed in the muriatic acid. In a few days he again saw Laura, and her sunny smile of welcome revived hopes which she little thought of fulfilling.

When a woman of ordinary delicacy is brought to hesitate upon the proposal of a lover, it is easy, provided prudence be on his side, to conjecture how the balance will turn. Mr Bolingbroke received his card of invitation to Norwood; and his suit advanced prosperously, though slowly. He was a plain unpretending man, seven years at least beyond excuse for any youthful indiscretion, habitually silent, though sure of commanding attention when he spoke. The perfect fairness and integrity of his mind had secured him the respect of all his acquaintance in a degree which he appeared to have precisely estimated, and he never seemed to expect less or to exact more. His calm un.o.btrusive manners never captivated a stranger, nor gave offence to an intimate. He was kind and generous to a sister, who, twenty years before, had succeeded as his play-thing to tops and marbles; and uniformly respectful to a maiden aunt who had, about the same date, replaced his mother as directress of the family.

His father had been long dead, and in consequence of his steady resistance of all the batteries of charms opened against him, or rather against his 7000 a-year, the ladies had begun to shake their heads, and p.r.o.nounce him a determined bachelor. But, notwithstanding their decision, Mr Bolingbroke was resolved to marry, for he considered marriage as one of the duties of his station.

Harriet amused, became customary, pleasing, necessary, to him. 'Our dissimilarity will a.s.sist us to correct each other's failings,' thought he, and his choice was fixed. He was aware that a grave elderly man might find some difficulty in attaching a volatile girl; and though he could not condescend to flatter even his mistress, he was a.s.siduous to please. He bestowed an infinity of little attentions, which were the more gratifying, because, from a man of his temper, they were wholly unexpected. His books, his horses, his carriage, waited but a half-expressed wish. He planned little excursions and parties of pleasure, or contrived to add some agreeable surprise to those which were proposed by others. Far from shewing any paltry jealousy, he treated Miss De Courcy's favourites of both s.e.xes with distinguished politeness; and perhaps he owed his success with a heart which had withstood more attractive admirers, partly to the agreeable a.s.sociations which he found means to raise, partly to vanity, pleased with power over the philosophic Mr Bolingbroke.

Montague watched the progress of his friend with keen interest, but he conscientiously avoided influencing Harriet's decision. On the contrary, lest the dread of future dependence should weigh with her, he informed her, that, should she prefer a single life, or should other circ.u.mstances render such a sum important to her, he was determined to double the little fortune he had already given.

While he was anxious to see his sister's happiness secured by her union with an estimable man, he felt that her marriage with Mr Bolingbroke would immediately remove one grand obstacle to his own wishes; for the little dower which he was determined ere he settled in life to save for Harriet, would form an addition altogether insignificant to the splendid settlement which was now in her power. There was nothing Quixotic in the justice and generosity of De Courcy; and he had no intention of incurring real difficulty and privation for the sake of adding a trifle to the stores of affluence. He therefore considered his sister's marriage as leaving him at full liberty to pursue his inclinations with regard to Laura, if the time should ever arrive when he could declare them without hazarding the forfeiture of even his present stinted measure of favour.

CHAPTER XXIV

One day Miss De Courcy expressed a wish to shew Laura the collection of paintings at a celebrated seat in the neighbourhood. Mr Bolingbroke immediately undertook to procure the permission of the n.o.ble owner, who was his relation; and the party was speedily arranged. Mrs Penelope's sociable, as Mr Bolingbroke always called it, was to convey his aunt, his sister, Harriet, and Mrs De Courcy, to whom the genial warmth of the season had partially restored the use of her limbs. Mrs Penelope piqued herself upon rising with the lark, and enforcing the same wholesome habit upon the whole household; the Bolingbrokes were, therefore, to take an early breakfast at Norwood, and then to proceed on their excursion. De Courcy and Mr Bolingbroke were to ride. Lady Pelham and Laura were to join the party in the grounds.

The weather proved delightful; and, after spending some hours in examining the paintings, in which Laura derived additional pleasure from the skilful comments of De Courcy, the party proceeded to view the grounds, when she, with almost equal delight, contemplated a finished specimen of modern landscape-gardening. Pursuing, as usual, his cautious plan, Montague divided his attentions pretty equally between the elder ladies and Miss Bolingbroke, bestowing the least part upon her for whom he would willingly have reserved all; while Harriet, in good humour with herself, and with all around her, frankly gave her arm to her lover; and sometimes laughing, sometimes blushing, suffered herself to loiter, to incline her head in listening to somewhat said in a half-whisper, and to answer it in an under tone; without recollecting that she had resolved, till she had _quite_ made up her mind, to restrain her habitual propensity to flirting.

De Courcy was certainly above the meanness of envy, yet he could not suppress a sigh as, with Mrs Penelope and his mother leaning on his arms, while Laura walked behind with Miss Bolingbroke, he followed Harriet and his friend into the darkened path that led to a hermitage.

The walk was shaded by yew, cypress, and other trees of dusky foliage, which, closing into an arch, excluded the gaudy sunshine. As they proceeded, the shade deepened into twilight, and the heats of noon gave place to refreshing coolness. The path terminated in a porch of wicker-work, forming the entrance to the hermitage, the walls of which were composed of the roots of trees, on the outside rugged as from the hand of nature, but within polished and fancifully adorned with sh.e.l.ls and fossils. Opposite to the entrance, a rude curtain of leopard skin seemed to cover a recess; and Harriet, hastily drawing it aside, gave to view a prospect gay with every variety of cheerful beauty. The meadows, lately cleared from their burden, displayed a vivid green, and light shadows quickly pa.s.sed over them and were gone. The corn-fields were busy with the first labours of the harvest. The village spires were thickly sown in the distance. More near, a rapid river flashed bright to the sun; yet the blaze came chastened to the eye, for it entered an awning close hung with the graceful tendrils of the pa.s.sion-flower.

The party were not soon weary of so lovely a landscape, and returning to the more shady apartment, found an elegant collation of fruits and ices, supplied by the gallantry of Mr Bolingbroke. Never was there a more cheerful repast. Lady Pelham was luckily in good humour, and therefore condescended to permit others to be so too. Laura, happily for herself, possessed a faculty not common to beauties--she could be contented where another was the chief object of attention; and she was actually enjoying the court that was paid to her friend, when, accidentally raising the vine leaf which held the fruit she was eating, she observed some verses pencilled on the rustic table in a hand-writing familiar to her recollection.

Sudden instinct made her hastily replace the leaf, and steal a glance to see whether any other eye had followed her's. No one seemed to have noticed her; but Laura's gaiety had vanished. The lines were distinct, as if recently traced; and Laura's blood ran chill at the thought, that, had she even a few hours sooner visited this spot, she might have met Colonel Hargrave. 'He may still be near,' thought she; and she wished, though she could not propose, to be instantly gone. None of her companions, however, seemed inclined to move. They continued their merriment, while Laura, her mind wholly occupied with one subject, again stole a glimpse of the writing. It was undoubtedly Hargrave's; and, deaf to all that was pa.s.sing around her, she fell into a reverie, which was first interrupted by the company rising to depart.

Though she had been in such haste to be gone, she was now the last to go. In her momentary glance at the sonnet, she had observed that it was inscribed to her. 'Of what possible consequence,' thought she, 'can it be to me?' yet she lingered behind to read it. In language half pa.s.sionate, half melancholy, it complained of the pains of absence and the cruelty of too rigid virtue; but it broke off abruptly, as if the writer had been suddenly interrupted.

So rapidly did Laura glance over the lines, that her companions had advanced but a few paces, ere she was hastening to follow them. On reaching the porch, she saw that the walk was just entered by two gentlemen. An instant convinced her that one of them was Hargrave.

Neither shriek nor exclamation announced this discovery, but Laura, turning pale, shrunk back out of view. Her first feeling was eager desire of escape; her first thought, that, returning to the inner apartment, she might thence spring from the lofty terrace, on the verge of which the hermitage was reared. She was deterred, by recollecting the absurd appearance of such an escape, and the surprise it would occasion.

But what was to be done? There was no third way of leaving the place where she stood, and if she remained, in a few moments Hargrave would be there.

These ideas darted so confusedly through her mind, that it seemed rather by instinct than design, that she drew her hat over her face, and doubled her veil in order to pa.s.s him unnoticed. She again advanced to the porch; but perceived, not without consternation, that Hargrave had joined her party, and stood talking to Lady Pelham in an att.i.tude of easy cordiality. Laura did not comment upon the free morality which accorded such a reception to such a character; for she was sick at heart, and trembled in every limb. Now there was no escape. He would certainly accost her, and she must answer him--answer him without emotion! or how would Mr De Courcy--how would his mother construe her weakness! What would Hargrave himself infer from it! What, but that her coldness sprung from mere pa.s.sing anger! or, more degrading still, from jealousy! The truant crimson now rushed back unbidden; and Laura proceeded with slow but steady steps.

During her short walk she continued to struggle with herself. 'Let me but this once command myself,' said she. 'And wherefore should I not? It is he who ought to shrink.--It is he who ought to tremble!' Yet it was Laura who trembled, when, advancing towards her, Lady Pelham introduced her to Colonel Hargrave as her niece. Laura's inclination of the head, cold as indifference could make it, did not seem to acknowledge former intimacy; and when Hargrave, with a manner respectful even to timidity, claimed her acquaintance, she gave a short answer of frozen civility, and turned away. Shrinking from even the slightest converse with him, she hastily pa.s.sed on; then, determined to afford him no opportunity of speaking to her, she glided in between Mrs De Courcy, who stood anxiously watching her, and Harriet, who was studying the contour of Hargrave's face; and offering an arm to each, she gently drew them forward.

Mr Bolingbroke immediately joined them, and entered into conversation with Harriet; while Mrs De Courcy continued to read the legible countenance of Laura, who silently walked on, revolving in her mind the difference between this and her last unexpected meeting with Hargrave.

The freedom of his address to the unfriended girl who was endeavouring to exchange the labour of her hands for a pittance to support existence, (a freedom which had once found sympathetic excuse in the breast of Laura), she now, not without indignation, contrasted with the respect offered to Lady Pelham's niece, surrounded by the rich and the respectable. Yet while she remembered what had then been her half-affected coldness, her ill-restrained sensibility; and compared them with the total alienation of heart which she now experienced, she could not stifle a sigh which rose at the recollection, that in her the raptures of love and joy were chilled never more to warm. 'Would that my preference had been more justly directed,' thought she, her eye unconsciously wandering to De Courcy; 'but that is all over now!'

From idle regrets, Laura soon turned to more characteristic meditation upon the conduct most suitable for her to pursue. Hargrave had joined her party; had been acknowledged, by some of them at least, as an acquaintance; and had particularly attached himself to Lady Pelham, with whom he followed in close conversation. Laura thought he would probably take the first opportunity of addressing himself to her; and if her manner towards him corresponded with the bent of her feelings, consciousness made her fear, that in her distance and constraint Lady Pelham's already suspicious eye would read more than merely dislike to a vicious character. Hargrave himself, too, might mistake who so nearly resembled her former manner for the veil of her former sentiments. She might possibly escape speaking to him for the present, but if he was fixed in the neighbourhood, (and something of the woman whispered that he would not leave it immediately), they would probably meet where to avoid him was not in her power. After some minutes of close consideration, she concluded, that to treat Colonel Hargrave with easy civil indifference, best accorded with what she owed to her own dignity; and was best calculated, if he retained one spark of sensibility or discernment, to convince him that her sentiments had undergone an irrevocable change. This method, therefore, she determined to pursue; making, with a sigh, this grand proviso, that she should find it practicable.

Mrs De Courcy, who guessed the current of her thoughts, suffered it to proceed without interruption; and it was not till Laura relaxed her brow, and raised her head, like one who has taken his resolution, that her companion, stopping, complained of fatigue; proposing, as her own carriage was not in waiting, to borrow Lady Pelham's, and return home, leaving the other ladies to be conveyed in Mrs Penelope's sociable to Norwood, where the party was to dine. Not willing to direct the proposal to Laura, upon whose account chiefly it was made, she then turned to Mrs Penelope, and inquired whether she did not feel tired with her walk; but that lady, who piqued herself upon being a hale active woman of her age, declared herself able for much greater exertion, and would walk, she said, till she had secured an appet.i.te for dinner. Laura, who had modestly held back till Mrs Penelope's decision was announced, now eagerly offered her attendance, which Mrs De Courcy, with a little dissembled hesitation, accepted, smiling to perceive how well she had divined her young favourite's inclinations.

The whole party attended them to the spot where the carriages were waiting. On reaching them, Mr Bolingbroke, handing in Mrs De Courcy, left Laura's side for the first time free to Hargrave, who instantly occupied it; while Montague, the drops standing on his forehead, found himself shackled between Mrs Penelope and Miss Bolingbroke. 'Ever dear, ever revered Miss Montreville'--Hargrave began in an insinuating whisper. 'Sir!' cried Laura, starting with indignant surprise. 'Nay, start not,' continued he in an under voice; 'I have much, much to say.

Lady Pelham allows me to visit Walbourne; will you permit me to'--Laura had not yet studied her lesson of easy civility, and therefore the courtesy of a slight inclination of the head was contradicted by the tone in which she interrupted him, saying, 'I never presume, Sir, to select Lady Pelham's visitors.'

She had reached the door of the carriage, and Hargrave took her hand to a.s.sist her in entering. Had Laura been prepared, she would have suffered him, though reluctantly, to do her this little service; but he took her unawares, and s.n.a.t.c.hing back her hand as from the touch of a loathsome reptile, she sprang, una.s.sisted, into her seat.

As the carriage drove off, Mrs De Courcy again apologized for separating Laura from her companions; 'though I know not,' added she, 'whether I should not rather take credit for withdrawing you from such dangerous society. All ladies who have stray hearts must guard them either in person or by proxy, since this formidable Colonel Hargrave has come among us.' 'He has fortunately placed the more respectable part of us in perfect security,' returned Laura, with a smile and voice of such unembarra.s.sed simplicity as fully satisfied her examiner.

Had Laura spent a lifetime in studying to give pain, which, indeed, was not in all her thoughts, she could not have inflicted a sharper sting on the proud heart of Hargrave, than by the involuntary look and gesture with which she quitted him. The idea of inspiring with disgust, unmixed irresistible disgust, the woman upon whose affections, or rather upon whose pa.s.sions, he had laboured so zealously and so long, had ever been more than he could bear, even when the expression of her dislike had no witness; but now she had published it to chattering misses and prying old maids, and more favoured rivals. Hargrave bit his lip till the blood came; and, if the lightning of the eye could scathe, his wrath had been far more deadly to others.

After walking for some minutes surly and apart, he began to comfort himself with the hopes of future revenge. 'She had loved him, pa.s.sionately loved him, and he was certain she could not be so utterly changed. Her behaviour was either all affectation, or a conceit of the strength of her own mind, which all these clever women were so vain of.

But the spark still lurked somewhere, whatever she might imagine, and if he could turn her own weapons against herself.'--Then, recollecting that he had resolved to cultivate Lady Pelham, he resumed his station by her side, and was again the courtly, insinuating Colonel Hargrave.

Hargrave had lately acquired a friend, or rather an adviser (the dissolute have no friends), who was admirably calculated to supply the deficiencies of his character as a man of pleasure. Indeed, except in so far as pleasure was his constant aim, no term could, with less justice, have been applied to Hargrave; for his life was chiefly divided between the goadings of temptations to which he himself lent arms, and the pangs of self-reproach which he could not exclude, and would not render useful. The strait and narrow way he never had a thought of treading, but his wanderings were more frequent than he intended, his returns more lingering. The very strength of his pa.s.sions made him incapable of deep or persevering deceit; he was humane to the suffering that pressed itself on his notice, if it came at a convenient season; and he was disinterested, if neglect of gold deserve the name. Lambert, his new adviser, had no pa.s.sions, no humanity, no neglect of gold. He was a gamester.

The practice of this profession, for, though a man of family and fortune he made it a profession, had rendered him skilful to discern, and remorseless to use the weaknesses of his fellow creatures. His estate lay contiguous to --, the little town where Hargrave had been quartered when he visited at Norwood; but the year which Hargrave pa.s.sed at -- was spent by Lambert almost entirely alone in London. He had returned however to the country, had been introduced to Hargrave, and had just fixed upon him as an easy prey, when the soldier was saved for a time, by receiving intimation of his promotion, and orders to join his regiment in a distant county.

They met again in an evil hour, just as Hargrave had half-determined to abandon as fruitless his search after Laura. The necessity of a stimulant was as strong as ever. Another necessity too was strong, for 10,000 of damages had been awarded to Lord Bellamer; Hargrave could not easily raise the money, and Lord Lincourt refused to advance a shilling.

'A pretty expensive pleasure has this Lady Bellamer been to me,' said Hargrave, bestowing on her Ladyship a coa.r.s.e enough epithet; for even fine gentlemen will sometimes call women what they have found them to be. He was prevailed on to try the gaming-table for the supply of both his wants, and found that pleasure fully twice as expensive. His friend introduced him to some of those accommodating gentlemen who lend money at illegal interest, and was generous enough to supply him when they would venture no more upon an estate in reversion. Lambert had accidentally heard of the phoenix which had appeared at Walbourne; and, on comparing the description he received of her with that to which with politic patience he had often listened, he had no doubt of having found the object of Hargrave's search. But, as it did not suit his present views that the lover should renew the pursuit, he dropt not a hint of his discovery, listening, with a gamester's insensibility, to the regrets which burst forth amidst the struggles of expiring virtue, for her whose soft influence would have led to peace and honour.

At last a dispute arising between the worthy Mr Lambert and his respectable coadjutors, as to the part.i.tion of the spoil, it occurred to him that he could more effectually monopolize his prey in the country; and thither accordingly he was called by pressing business. There he was presently so fortunate as to discover a Miss Montreville, on whose charms he descanted in a letter to Hargrave in such terms, that, though he averred she could not be Hargrave's Miss Montreville, Hargrave was sure she could be no other; and, as his informer expected, arrived in ----shire as soon as a chaise and four could convey him thither.

Lambert had now a difficult game to play, for he had roused the leading pa.s.sion, and the collateral one could act but feebly; but they who often tread the crooked path, find pleasure in its intricacy, vainly conceiting that it gives proof of their sagacity, and Lambert looked with pleasure on the obstacles in his way. He trusted, that while the master-spirit detained Hargrave within the circle of Walbourne, he might dexterously practise with the lesser imp of evil.

Had his letter afforded a clue to Laura's residence, Hargrave would have flown directly to Walbourne, but he was first obliged to stop at --; and Lambert, with some difficulty, persuaded him, that, as he was but slightly known to Lady Pelham, and probably in disgrace with her protegee, it would be more politic to delay his visit, and first meet them at Lord --'s, where he had information that they were to go on the following day. 'You will take your girl at unawares,' said he, 'if she be your girl; and that is no bad way of feeling your ground.' The vanity of extorting from Laura's surprise some unequivocal token of his power prevailed on the lover to delay the interview till the morning; and, after spending half the evening in dwelling upon the circ.u.mstances of his last unexpected meeting with her, which distance softened in his imagination to more than its actual tenderness, he, early in the morning set out with Lambert for --, where he took post in the hermitage, as a place which no stranger omitted to visit.

Growing weary of waiting, he dispatched Lambert as a scout; and, lest he should miss Laura, remained himself in the hermitage, till his emissary brought him information that the party were in the picture gallery.

Thither he hastened; but the party had already left the house, and thus had Laura accidental warning of his approach. No reception could have been so mortifying to him, who was prepared to support her sinking under the struggle of love and duty, of jealousy and pride. No struggle was visible; or, if there was, it was but a faint strife between native courtesy and strong dislike. He had boasted to Lambert of her tenderness; the specimen certainly was not flattering. Most of her companions were little more gracious. De Courcy paid him no more attention than bare civility required.--With the Bolingbrokes he was unacquainted, but the character of his companion was sufficient reason for their reserve. Lady Pelham was the only person present who soothed his wounded vanity. Pleased with the prospect of unravelling the mystery into which she had pried so long in vain, charmed with the easy gallantry and adroit flattery of which Hargrave, in his cooler moments, was consummate master, she accepted his attentions with great cordiality; while he had the address tacitly to persuade her that they were a tribute to her powers of entertaining.

Before they parted, she had converted her permission to visit Walbourne into a pressing invitation, nay, had even hinted to De Courcy the propriety of asking the Colonel to join the dinner party that day at Norwood. The hint, however, was not taken; and therefore, in her way home, Lady Pelham indulged her fellow-travellers with sundry moral and ingenious reflections concerning the folly of being 'righteous over much;' and on the alluring accessible form of the true virtue, contrasted with the repulsive, bristly, hedgehog-like make of the false.

Indeed, it must be owned, that for the rest of the evening her Ladyship's conversation was rather sententious than agreeable; but the rest of the party, in high good humour, overlooked her attacks, or parried them in play.

Montague had watched the cold composure of Laura on Hargrave's first accosting her, and seen the gesture which repulsed him at parting; and though in the accompanying look he lost volumes, his conclusions, on the whole, were favourable. Still a doubt arose, whether her manner sprung not from the fleeting resentment of affection; and he was standing mournfully calculating the effects of Hargrave's perseverance, when his mother, in pa.s.sing him as she followed her guests to the eating-room, said, in an emphatical whisper, 'I am satisfied. There is no worm in the bud.'