Tales and Novels Volume VI Part 53

Mrs. Somers made many ceremonious speeches: but Lady Littleton seemed so well inclined to accept Emilie's offered room, that she was obliged to yield. She was vexed to perceive that Emilie's manners pleased Lady Littleton; and, after they returned home, the activity with which Emilie moved her books, her drawing-box, work, &c., furnished Mrs. Somers with fresh matter for displeasure. At night, when Lady Littleton went to take possession of her apartment, and when she observed how active and obliging Mlle. de Coulanges had been, Mrs.

Somers shook her head, and replied, "All this is just a proof to me of what I a.s.serted, Lady Littleton--and what I must irrevocably a.s.sert--that Mlle. de Coulanges has no soul. You are a new acquaintance, and I am an old friend. She exerts herself to please you; she does not care what I think or what I feel about the matter.

Now this is just what I call having no soul."

"My dear Mrs. Somers," said Lady Littleton, "be reasonable; and you must perceive that Emilie's eagerness to please me arises from her regard and grat.i.tude to you: she has, I make no doubt, heard that I am your intimate friend, and your praises have disposed her to like me.--Is this a proof that she has no soul?"

"My dear Lady Littleton, we will not dispute about it--I see you are fascinated, as I was at first. Manner is a prodigious advantage--but I own I prefer solid English sincerity. Stay a little: as soon as Mlle.

de Coulanges thinks herself secure of you, she will completely abandon me. I make no doubt that she will complain to you of my bad temper and ill usage; and I dare say that she will succeed in prejudicing you against me."

"She will succeed only in prejudicing me against herself, if she attempt to injure you," said Lady Littleton; "but, till I have some plain proof of it, I cannot believe that any person has such a base and ungrateful disposition."

Mrs. Somers spent an hour and a quarter in explaining her causes of complaint against both mother and daughter; and she at last retired much dissatisfied, because her friend was not as angry as she was, but persisted in the resolution to see more before she decided.

After pa.s.sing a few days in the house with Mlle. de Coulanges, Lady Littleton frankly declared to Mrs. Somers that she thought her complaints of Emilie's temper quite unreasonable, and that she was a most amiable and affectionate girl. Respect for Lady Littleton restrained Mrs. Somers from showing the full extent of her vexation; she contented herself with repeating, "Mlle. de Coulanges is certainly a very amiable young woman--I would by no means prejudice you against her--but when you know her as well as I do, you will find that she has no soul."

Mrs. Somers, in the course of four-and-twenty hours, found a mult.i.tude of proofs in support of her opinion; but they were none of them absolutely satisfactory to Lady Littleton's judgment. Whilst they were debating about her character, Emilie came into the room to show Mrs.

Somers a _French_ translation, which she had been making, of a pretty little English poem, called "The Emigrant's Grave." It was impossible to be displeased with the translation, or with the motive from which it was attempted; for it was done at the particular request of Mrs.

Somers. This lady's ingenuity, however, did not fail to discover some cause for dissatisfaction. Mlle. de Coulanges had adapted the words to a French, and not to an English air.

"This is a favourite air of mamma's," said Emilie, "and I thought that she would be pleased by my choosing it."

"Yes," replied Mrs. Somers, in her constrained voice, "I remember that the Countess de Coulanges and her friend--or your friend--M. de Brisac, were charmed with this air, when you sang it the other night.

I found fault with it, I believe--but then you had a majority against me; and with some people that is sufficient. Few ask themselves _what const.i.tutes a majority_--numbers or sense. Judgments and tastes may differ in value; but one vote is always as good as another, in the opinion of those who are decided merely by numbers."

"I hope that I shall never be one of those," said Emilie. "Upon the present occasion I a.s.sure you, my dear Mrs. Somers, that I was influenced by--"

"Oh! my dear Mlle. de Coulanges," interrupted Mrs. Somers, "you need not give yourself the trouble to explain about such a trifle--the thing is perfectly clear. And nothing is more natural than that you should despise the taste of a friend when put in compet.i.tion with that of a lover."

"Of a lover!"

"Yes, of a lover. Why should Mlle. de Coulanges think it necessary to look astonished? But young ladies imagine this sort of dissimulation is becoming; and can I hope to meet with an exception, or to find one superior to the _finesse_ of her s.e.x?--I beg your pardon, Mlle. de Coulanges, I really forgot that Lady Littleton was present when this terrible word lover escaped--but I can a.s.sure you that frankness is not incompatible with _her_ ideas of delicacy."

"You are mistaken, dear Mrs. Somers; indeed you are mistaken," said Emilie; "but you are displeased with me now, and I will take a more favourable moment to set you right. In the mean time, I will go and water the hydrangia, which I forgot, and which I reproached myself for forgetting yesterday."

Emilie left the room.

"Are you convinced now, my dear Lady Littleton," cried Mrs. Somers, "that this girl has no soul--and very little heart?"

"I am convinced only that she has an excellent temper," said Lady Littleton. "I hope you do not think a good temper is incompatible with a heart or a soul."

"I will tell you what I think, and what I am sure of," cried Mrs.

Somers, raising her voice; "that Mlle. de Coulanges will be a constant cause of dispute and uneasiness between you and me, Lady Littleton--I foresee the end of this. As a return for all I have done for her and her mother, she will rob me of the affections of one whom I love and esteem, respect and admire--as she well knows--above all other human beings. She will rob me of the affections of one who has been my friend, my best, my only constant friend, for twenty years!--Oh! why am I doomed eternally to be the victim of ingrat.i.tude?"

In spite of Lady Littleton's efforts to stop and calm her, Mrs. Somers burst out of the room in an agony of pa.s.sion. She ran up a back staircase which led to her dressing-room, but suddenly stopped when she came to the landing-place, for she found Emilie watering her plants.

"Look, dear Mrs. Somers, this hydrangia is just going to blow; though I was so careless as to forget to water it yesterday."

"I beg, Mlle. de Coulanges, that you will not trouble yourself," said Mrs. Somers, haughtily. "Surely there are servants enough in this house whose business it is to remember these things."

"Yes," said Emilie, "it is their business, but it is my pleasure. You must not, indeed you must not, take my watering-pot from me!"

"Pardon me, I must, mademoiselle--you are very condescending and polite, and I am very blunt and rude, or whatever you please to think me. But the fact is, that I am not to be flattered by what the French call _des pet.i.tes attentions_: they are suited to little minds, but not to me. You will never know my character, Mlle. de Coulanges--I am not to be pleased by such means."

"Teach me then better means, my dear friend, and do not bid me despair of ever pleasing you," said Emilie, throwing her arms round Mrs.

Somers to detain her.

"Excuse me--I am an Englishwoman, and do not love _embra.s.sades_, which mean nothing," said Mrs. Somers, struggling to disengage herself; and she rushed suddenly forward, without perceiving that Emilie's foot was entangled in her train. Emilie was thrown from the top of the stairs to the bottom. Mrs. Somers screamed--Lady Littleton came out of her room.

"She is dead!--I have killed her!"--cried Mrs. Somers. Lady Littleton raised Emilie from the ground--she was quite stunned by the violence of the fall.

"Oh! speak to me! dearest Emilie, speak once more!" said Mrs. Somers.

As soon as Emilie could speak, she a.s.sured Mrs. Somers that she should be quite well in a few minutes. When she attempted, however, to walk, she found she was unable to move, for her ankle was violently sprained: she was carried into Lady Littleton's room, and placed upon a sofa. She exerted herself to bear the pain she felt, that she might not alarm or seem to reproach Mrs. Somers; and she repeatedly blamed herself for the awkwardness with which she had occasioned her own fall. Mrs. Somers, in the greatest bustle and confusion, called every servant in the house about her, sent them different ways for all the remedies she had ever heard of for a sprain; then was sure Emilie's skull was fractured--asked fifty times in five minutes whether she did not feel a certain sickness in her stomach, which was the infallible sign of "_something wrong_"--insisted upon her smelling at salts, vinegar, and various essences; and made her swallow, or at least taste, every variety of drops and cordials. By this time Mad. de Coulanges, who was at her toilet, had heard of the accident, and came running in half dressed; the hurry of Mrs. Somers' manner, the crowd of a.s.sistants, the quant.i.ty of remedies, the sight of Emilie stretched upon a sofa, and the sound of the word _fracture_, which caught her ear, had such an effect upon the countess, that she was instantly seized with one of her nervous attacks; and Mrs. Somers was astonished to see Emilie spring from the sofa to a.s.sist her mother. When Mad. de Coulanges recovered, Emilie used all her powers of persuasion to calm her spirits, laughed at the idea of her skull being fractured, and said, that she had only twisted her ankle, which would merely prevent her from dancing for a few days. The countess pitied herself for having such terribly weak nerves--congratulated herself upon her daughter's safety--declared that it was a miracle how she could have escaped, in falling down such a narrow staircase--observed, that, though the stairs in London were cleaner and better carpeted, the staircases of Paris were at least four times as broad, and, consequently, a hundred times as safe. She then reminded Emilie of an anecdote mentioned by Mad. de Genlis about a princess of France, who, when she retired to a convent, complained bitterly of the narrowness of the staircase, which, she said, she found a real misfortune to be obliged to descend. "Tell me, Emilie, what was the name of the princess?"

"The Princess Louisa of France, I believe, mamma," replied Emilie.

Mad. de Coulanges repeated, "Ay, the Princess Louisa of France;" and then, well satisfied, returned to finish her toilette.

"You have an excellent memory, Mlle. de Coulanges," said Mrs. Somers, looking with an air of pique at Emilie. "I really am rejoiced to see you so much yourself again--I thought you were seriously hurt."

"I told you that I was not," said Emilie, forcing a smile.

"Yes, but I was such a fool as to be terrified out of my senses by seeing you lie down on the sofa. I might have saved myself and you a great deal of trouble. I must have appeared ridiculously officious. I saw indeed that I was troublesome; and I seem to be too much for you now. I will leave you with Lady Littleton, to explain to her how the accident happened. Pray tell the thing just as it was--do not spare me, I beg. I do not desire that Lady Littleton, or any friend I have upon earth, should think better of me than I deserve. Remember, you have my free leave, Mlle. de Coulanges, to speak of me as you think--so don't spare me!" cried Mrs. Somers, shutting the door with violence as she left the room.

"Lean upon me, my dear," said Lady Littleton, who saw that Emilie turned exceedingly pale, and looked towards a chair, as if she wished to reach it, but could not.

"I thought," said she, in a faint voice, "that this pain would go off, but it is grown more violent." Emilie could say no more; she had borne intense pain as long as she was able: and now, quite overcome, she leaned back, and fainted. Lady Littleton threw open the window, sprinkled water upon Emilie's face, and gave her a.s.sistance in the kindest manner, without calling any of the servants; she knew that the return of Mrs. Somers would do more harm than good. Emilie soon recovered her recollection; and, whilst Lady Littleton was rubbing the sprained ankle with ether, in hopes of lessening the pain, she asked how the accident had happened.--Emilie replied simply, that she had entangled her foot in Mrs. Somers' gown. "I understand, from what Mrs.

Somers hinted when she left the room," said Lady Littleton, "that she was somehow in fault in this affair, and that you could blame her if you would; but I see that you will not; and I love you the better for justifying the good opinion that I had formed of you, Emilie.--But I will not talk sentiment to you now--you are in too much pain to relish it."

"Not at all," said Emilie: "I feel more pleasure than pain at this moment; indeed my ankle does not hurt me now that I am quite still--the pleasant cold of the ether has relieved the pain. How kind you are to me, Lady Littleton, and how much I am obliged to you for judging so favourably of my character!"

"You are not obliged to me, my dear, for I do you only justice."

"Justice is sometimes felt as the greatest possible obligation, especially by those who have experienced the reverse.--But," said Emilie, checking herself, "let me not blame Mrs. Somers, or incline you to blame her. I should do very wrong, indeed, if I were, in return for all she has done for us, to cause any jealousies or quarrels between her and her best friend. Oh! that is what I most dread! To prevent it, I would--it is not polite to say so--but I would, my dear Lady Littleton, even withdraw myself from your society. This very day you return to your own house. You were so good as to ask me to go often to see you: forgive me if I do not avail myself of this kind permission. You will know my reasons; and I hope they are such as you will approve of."

A servant came in, to say that her ladyship's carriage was at the door.

"One word more before you go, my dear Lady Littleton," said Emilie, with a supplicating voice and countenance. "Tell me, I beseech you--for you have been her friend from her childhood, and must know better than any one living--tell me how I can please Mrs. Somers.

I begin to be afraid that I shall at last be weary of my fruitless efforts, and I dread--above all things I dread--that my affection for her should be worn out. How painful it would be to sustain the continual weight of obligation without being able to feel the pleasure of grat.i.tude!"

Lady Littleton was going to reply, but she was prevented by the sudden entrance of Mrs. Somers with her face of wrath.

"So, Lady Littleton, you are actually going, I find!--And I have not had one moment of your conversation. May I be allowed--if Mlle. de Coulanges has finished her mysteries--to say a few words to you?"

"You will give me leave, I am sure, Emilie," said Lady Littleton, "to repeat to Mrs. Somers every word that you have said to me?"

"Yes, every word," said Emilie, blushing, yet speaking with firmness.

"I have no mysteries--I do not wish to conceal from Mrs. Somers any thing that I say or think."

Mrs. Somers seized Lady Littleton's arm, and left the room; but when she had entire possession of her friend's ear, she had nothing to say, or nothing that she would say, except half sentences, reproaching her for not staying longer, and insinuating that Emilie would be the cause of their separating for ever.--"Now, as you have her permission, will you favour me with a repet.i.tion of her last conversation?"