Tales and Novels Volume VII Part 6

"Then why is not she here?"

"Don't you recollect her telling you that she would not come?"

"Yes: but I did not think she was in earnest."

"How little you know of Caroline," replied Rosamond, "if you imagine that either in trifles, or in matters of consequence, _she_ would say one thing and do another."

"I feel," said Buckhurst, colouring, "what that emphasis on _she_ means. But I did not think you would have reproached me so severely. _I thought_ my cousin Rosamond was my friend."

"So I am--but not a friend to your faults."

"Surely it is no great crime in a young man to like going to a ball better than going to the Temple! But I am really concerned," continued Buckhurst, "that I have deprived Miss Caroline Percy of the pleasure of being here to-night--and this was to have been her first appearance in public--I am quite sorry."

"Caroline is not at all impatient to appear in public; and as to the pleasure of being at a ball, it costs her little to sacrifice that, or any pleasure of her own, for the advantage of others."

"When Miss Caroline Percy said something about my falling in her father's opinion for such a trifle, I could not guess that she was serious."

"She does not," replied Rosamond, "think it a trifle to break a promise."

Buckhurst looked at his watch. "The mail-coach will pa.s.s through this town in an hour. It shall take me to London--Good bye--I will not stay another moment--I am gone. I wish I had gone yesterday--pray, my dear, good Rosamond, say so for me to Caroline."

At this moment a beautiful young lady, attended by a large party, entered the ball-room. Buckhurst stopped to inquire who she was.

"Did you never see my sister before?" replied Colonel Hauton--"Oh! I must introduce you, and you shall dance with her."

"You do me a great deal of honour--I shall be very happy--that is, I should be extremely happy--only unfortunately I am under a necessity of setting off immediately for London--I'm afraid I shall be late for the mail--Good night."

Buckhurst made an effort, as he spoke, to pa.s.s on; but Colonel Hauton bursting into one of his horse laughs, held him fast by the arm, swore he must be drunk, for that he did not know what he was saying or doing.

Commissioner Falconer, who now came up, whispered to Buckhurst, "Are you mad? You can't refuse--you'll affront for ever!"

"I can't help it," said Buckhurst: "I'm sorry for it--I cannot help it."

He still kept on his way towards the door.

"But," expostulated the commissioner, following him out, "you can surely stay, be introduced, and pay your compliments to the young lady--you are time enough for the mail. Don't affront people for nothing, who may be of the greatest use to you."

"But, my dear father, I don't want people to be of use to me."

"Well, at any rate turn back just to see what a charming creature Miss Hauton is. Such an entree! So much the air of a woman of fashion! every eye riveted--the whole room in admiration of her!"

"I did not see any thing remarkable about her," said Buckhurst, turning back to look at her again. "If you think I should affront--I would not really affront Hauton, who has always been so civil to me--I'll go and be introduced and pay my compliments, since you say it is necessary; but I shall not stay five minutes."

Buckhurst returned to be introduced to Miss Hauton. This young lady was so beautiful that she would, in all probability, have attracted general attention, even if she had not been the sister of a man of Colonel Hauton's fortune, and the niece of a n.o.bleman of Lord Oldborough's political consequence; but undoubtedly these circ.u.mstances much increased the power of her charms over the imaginations of her admirers.

All the gentlemen at this hall were unanimous in declaring that she was a most fascinating creature. Buckhurst Falconer and G.o.dfrey Percy were introduced to her nearly at the same time. G.o.dfrey asked her to dance--and Buckhurst could not help staying to see her. She danced so gracefully, that while he thought he had stayed only five minutes, he delayed a quarter of an hour. Many gentlemen were ambitious of the honour of Miss Hauton's hand; but, to their disappointment, she declined dancing any more; and though Buckhurst Falconer had determined not to have stayed, nor to dance with her, yet an undefinable perverse curiosity induced him to delay a few minutes to determine whether she conversed as well as she danced. The sound of her voice was sweet and soft, and there was an air of languor in her whole person and manner, with an apparent indifference to general admiration, which charmed G.o.dfrey Percy, especially as he perceived, that she could be animated by his conversation. To Buckhurst's wit she listened with politeness, but obviously without interest. Buckhurst looked at his watch again--but it was now too late for the mail. Rosamond was surprised to see him still in the ball-room. He laid all the blame on his father, and pleaded that he was detained by parental orders which he could not disobey. He sat beside Rosamond at supper, and used much eloquence to convince her that he had obeyed against his will.

In the mean time G.o.dfrey, seated next to his fair partner, became every moment more and more sensible of the advantages of his situation.

Towards the end of supper, when the buzz of general conversation increased, it happened that somebody near Miss Hauton spoke of a marriage that was likely to take place in the fashionable world, and all who thought themselves, or who wished to be thought good authorities, began to settle _how_ it would be, and _when_ it would be: but a gentleman of G.o.dfrey's acquaintance, who sat next to him, said, in a low voice, "It will never be."--"Why?" said G.o.dfrey.--The gentleman answered in a whisper, "There is an insuperable objection: the _mother_--don't you recollect?--the mother was a _divorcee_; and no man of sense would venture to marry the daughter--"

"No, certainly," said G.o.dfrey; "I did not know the fact."

He turned, as he finished speaking, to ask Miss Hauton if she would permit him to help her to something that stood before him; but to his surprise and alarm he perceived that she was pale, trembling, and scarcely able to support herself.--He, for the first moment, thought only that she was taken suddenly ill, and he was going to call Lady Oldborough's attention to her indisposition--but Miss Hauton stopped him, and said in a low, tremulous voice--"Take no notice." He then poured out a gla.s.s of water, put it within her reach, turned away in obedience to her wishes, and sat in such a manner as to screen her from observation. A confused recollection now came across his mind of his having heard many years ago, when he was a child, of the divorce of some Lady Anne Hauton, and the truth occurred to him, that this was Miss Hauton's mother, and that Miss Hauton had overheard the whisper.

In a few moments, anxious to see whether she had recovered, and yet afraid to distress her by his attention, he half turned his head, and looking down at her plate, asked if she was better.

"Quite well, thank you."

He then raised his eyes, and looking as unconcernedly as he could, resumed his former att.i.tude, and began some trifling conversation; but whatever effort he made to appear the same as before, there was some constraint, or some difference in his voice and manner, which the young lady perceived--her voice immediately changed and faltered--he spoke quickly--both spoke at the same time, without knowing what either said or what they said themselves--their eyes met, and both were silent--Miss Hauton blushed deeply. He saw that his conjecture was right, and she saw, by G.o.dfrey's countenance, that her secret was discovered: her eyes fell, she grew pale, and instantly fainted. Lady Oldborough came to her a.s.sistance, but she was too helpless a fine lady to be of the least use: she could only say that it must be the heat of the room, and that she should faint herself in another moment.

G.o.dfrey whispered to his mother--and Miss Hauton was carried into the open air. Lady Oldborough and her smelling-bottle followed. G.o.dfrey, leaving the young lady with them, returned quickly to the supper-room, to prevent any one from intruding upon her. He met Buckhurst Falconer and Colonel Hauton at the door, and stopped them with a.s.surances that Miss Hauton had all the a.s.sistance she could want.

"I'll tell you what she wants," cried the Colonel to Buckhurst; "a jaunt to Cheltenham, which would do her and me, too, a d--d deal of good; for now the races are over, what the devil shall we do with ourselves here? I'll rattle Maria off the day after to-morrow in my phaeton.

No--Buckhurst, my good fellow, I'll drive you in the phaeton, and I'll make Lady Oldborough take Maria in the coach."

G.o.dfrey Percy, who, as he pa.s.sed, could not avoid hearing this invitation, did not stay to learn Buckhurst's answer, but went instantly into the room. No one, not even the gentleman whose whisper had occasioned it, had the least suspicion of the real cause of Miss Hauton's indisposition. Lady Oldborough had a.s.signed as the occasion of the young lady's illness "the heat of the room," and an old medical dowager was eager to establish that "it was _owing_ to some strawberry ice, as, to her certain knowledge, ice, in some shape or other, was the cause of most of the mischief in the world."

Whilst the partizans of heat and ice were still battling, and whilst the dancers had quite forgotten Miss Hauton, and every thing but themselves, the young lady returned to the room. G.o.dfrey went to order Mrs. Percy's carriage, and the Percy family left the ball.

When G.o.dfrey found himself in the carriage with his own family, he began eagerly to talk of Miss Hauton; he was anxious to know what all and each thought of her, in general, and in particular: he talked so much of her, and seemed so much surprised that any body could wish to talk or think of any thing else, that Mrs. Percy could not help smiling. Mr. Percy, leaning back in the carriage, said that he felt inclined to sleep.

"To sleep!" repeated G.o.dfrey: "is it possible that you can be sleepy, sir?"

"Very possible, my dear son--it is past four o'clock, I believe."

G.o.dfrey was silent for some minutes, and he began to think over every word and look that had pa.s.sed between him and Miss Hauton. He had been only amused with her conversation, and charmed by her grace and beauty in the beginning of the evening; but the sensibility she had afterwards shown had touched him so much, that he was extremely anxious to interest his father in her favour. He explained the cause of her fainting, and asked whether she was not much to be pitied. All pitied her--and G.o.dfrey, encouraged by this pity, went on to prove that she ought not to be blamed for her mother's faults; that nothing could be more unjust and cruel than to think ill of the innocent daughter, because her mother had been imprudent.

"But, G.o.dfrey," said Rosamond, "you seem to be answering some one who has attacked Miss Hauton--whom are you contending with?"

"With himself," said Mr. Percy. "His prudence tells him that the gentleman was quite right in saying that no man of sense would marry the daughter of a woman who had conducted herself ill, and yet he wishes to make an exception to the general rule in favour of pretty Miss Hauton."

"Pretty! My dear father, she is a great deal more than pretty: if she were only pretty, I should not be so much interested about her. But putting her quite out of the question, I do not agree with the general principle that a man should not marry the daughter of a woman who has conducted herself ill."

"I think you did agree with it till you knew that it applied to Miss Hauton's case," said Mr. Percy: "as well as I remember, G.o.dfrey, I heard you once answer on a similar occasion, 'No, no--I will have nothing to do with any of the daughters of that mother--black cats have black kittens'--or 'black dogs have black puppies'--I forget which you said."

"Whichever it was, I am ashamed of having quoted such a vulgar proverb,"

said G.o.dfrey.

"It may be a vulgar proverb, but I doubt whether it be a vulgar error,"

said Mr. Percy: "I have great faith in the wisdom of nations. So much so in the present instance, that I own I would rather a son of mine were to marry a well-conducted farmer's daughter of _honest parentage_, than the daughter of an ill-conducted lady of rank or fashion. The farmer's daughter might be trained into a gentlewoman, and might make my son at least a faithful wife, which is more than he could expect, or than I should expect, from the young lady, who had early seen the example of what was bad, and whose predispositions would be provided with the excuse of the old song."

G.o.dfrey took fire at this, and exclaimed against the injustice of a doctrine which would render wretched for life many young women who might possess every amiable and estimable quality, and who could never remedy the misfortune of their birth. G.o.dfrey urged, that whilst this would render the good miserable, it would be the most probable means of driving the weak from despair into vice.

Rosamond eagerly joined her brother's side of the question. Mr. Percy, though he knew, he said, that he must appear one of the "fathers with flinty hearts," protested that he felt great compa.s.sion for the unfortunate individuals, as much as a man who was not in love with any of them could reasonably be expected to feel.

"But now," continued he, "granting that all the consequences which G.o.dfrey has predicted were to follow from my doctrine, yet I am inclined to believe that society would, upon the whole, be the gainer by such severity, or, as I am willing to allow it to be, such apparent injustice. The adherence to this principle would be the misery, perhaps the ruin, of a few; but would, I think, tend to the safety and happiness of so many, that the evil would be nothing in comparison to the good.

The certainty of shame descending to the daughters would be a powerful means of deterring mothers from ill-conduct; and might probably operate more effectually to restrain licentiousness in high life than heavy damages, or the now transient disgrace of public trial and divorce. As to the apparent injustice of punishing children for the faults of their parents, it should be considered that in most other cases children suffer discredit more or less for the faults of their parents of whatever kind; and that, on the other hand, they enjoy the advantage of the good characters which their parents establish. This _must_ be so from the necessary effect of experience, and from the nature of human belief, except in cases where pa.s.sion operates to destroy or suspend the power of reason--"

"That is not my case, I a.s.sure you, sir," interrupted G.o.dfrey.