The World's Greatest Books - Volume 7 Part 21

LUCY SELBY.

_II.--Miss Byron to Miss Selby_

_Grosvenor Street, London, February 3._ We are returned from a party at Lady Betty's. She had company with her, to whom she introduced us, and presented me in a very advantageous character. But mutual civilities had hardly pa.s.sed when Lady Betty, having been called out, returned, introducing as a gentleman who would be acceptable to everyone, Sir Hargrave Pollexfen. "He is," whispered she to me, as he saluted the rest of the company in a very gallant manner, "a young baronet of a very large estate; the greatest part of which has lately come to him by the death of relatives, all very rich." Let me give you a sketch of him, my Lucy.

Sir Hargrave Pollexfen is handsome and genteel; pretty tall, about twenty-eight or thirty. He has remarkably bold eyes, rather approaching to what we would call goggling, and he gives himself airs with them, as if he wished to have them thought rakish; perhaps as a recommendation, in his opinion, to the ladies. With all his foibles he is said to be a man of enterprise and courage, and young women, it seems, must take care how they laugh with him, for he makes ungenerous constructions to the disadvantage of a woman whom he can bring to seem pleased with his jests.

The taste of the present age seems to be dress; no wonder, therefore, that such a man as Sir Hargrave aims to excel in it. What can be misbestowed by a man on his person who values it more than his mind? But what a length I have run!

_III.--Miss Byron: In Continuation_

We found at home, waiting for Mr. Reeves's return, Sir John Allestree, a worthy, sensible man, of plain and unaffected manners, upwards of fifty.

Mr. Reeves mentioning to him our past entertainment and company, Sir John gave us such an account of Sir Hargrave as let me know that he is a very dangerous and enterprising man. He says that, laughing and light as he is in company, he is malicious, ill-natured, and designing, and sticks at nothing to carry a point on which he has once set his heart.

He has ruined, Sir John says, three young creatures already, under vows of marriage.

Could you have thought, my Lucy, that this laughing, fine-dressing man, could have been a man of malice, and of resentment, a cruel man, yet Sir John told two very bad stories of him.

But I had no need of these stories to determine me against receiving his addresses. What I saw of him was sufficient.

_IV.--Miss Byron: In Continuation_

_Wednesday, February 8._ Sir Hargrave came before six o'clock. He was richly dressed. He asked for my cousin Reeves, I was in my chamber, writing.

He excused himself for coming so early on the score of his impatience.

Shall I give you, from my cousins, an account of the conversation before I went down? You know Mrs. Reeves is a nice observer.

He had had, he told my cousins, a most uneasy time of it, ever since he saw me. He never saw a woman before whom he could love as he loved me.

By his soul, he had no view but what was strictly honourable. He gloried in the happy prospects before him, and hoped, as none of my little _army_ of admirers had met encouragement from me, that _he_ might be the happy man.

"I told you, Mr. Reeves," said he, "that I will give you _carte blanche_ as to settlements. I will lay before you, or before any of Miss Byron's friends, my rent-rolls. There never was a better conditioned estate. She shall live in town, or in the country, as she thinks fit."

On a message that tea was near ready, I went down.

"Charming Miss Byron," said he, addressing me with an air of kindness and freedom, "I hope you are all benignity and compa.s.sion." He then begged I would hear him relate the substance of what had pa.s.sed between him and Mr. and Mrs. Reeves, referred to the declaration he had made, boasted of his violent pa.s.sion, and besought my favour with the utmost earnestness.

As I could not think of encouraging his addresses, I thought it best to answer him without reserve.

"Sir Hargrave, you may expect nothing from me but the simplest truth. I thank you, sir, for your good opinion of me, but I cannot encourage your addresses."

"You _cannot_, madam, _encourage my addresses!_" He stood silent a minute or two, looking upon me as if he said, "Foolish girl! Knows she whom she refuses?" "I have been a.s.sured, madam, that your affections are not engaged. But surely, it must be a mistake; some happy man----"

"Is it," I interrupted, "a necessary consequence that the woman who cannot receive the addresses of Sir Hargrave Pollexfen must be engaged?"

"Why, madam, as to that, I know not what to say, but a man of my fortune----" He paused. "What, madam, can be your objection? Be so good as to name it, that I may know whether I can be so happy as to get over it."

"We do not, we _cannot_, all like the same person. There is _something_ that attracts or disgusts us."

"_Disgusts!_ Madam--disgusts! Miss Byron!"

"I spoke in general, sir; I dare say, nineteen women out of twenty would think themselves favoured in the addresses of Sir Hargrave Pollexfen."

"But _you_, madam, are the twentieth that I must love; and be so good as to let me know----"

"Pray, sir, ask me not a reason for a _peculiarity_. You may have more merit, perhaps, than the man I may happen to approve of better; but--_shall_ I say?--you do not--you do not hit my fancy, sir."

"_Not hit your fancy_, madam! Give me leave to say" (and he reddened with anger) "that my fortune, my descent, and my ardent affection for you ought to avail with me. Perhaps, madam, you think me too airy a man.

You have doubts of my sincerity. You question my honour."

"That, sir, would be to injure myself," and making a low courtesy, I withdrew in haste.

My sheet is ended. With a new one I will begin another letter.

_V.--Miss Byron: In Continuation_

Next morning, after breakfast, Sir Hargrave again called, and renewed his addresses, making vehement professions of love, and offering me large settlements. To all of which I answered as before; and when he insisted upon my reasons for refusing him, I frankly told him that I had not the opinion of his morals that I must have of those of the man to whom I gave my hand in marriage.

"Of my _morals_, madam!" (and his colour went and came). "My _morals_, madam!" He arose from his seat and walked about the room muttering. "You have no opinion of my morals? By heaven, madam! But I will bear it all--yet, 'No opinion of my morals!' I cannot bear that."

He then clenched his fist, and held it up to his head; and, s.n.a.t.c.hing up his hat, bowed to the ground, his face crimsoned over, and he withdrew.

Mr. Reeves attended him to the door. "Not like my morals!" said he. "I have _enemies_, Mr. Reeves. Miss Byron treats politely everybody but me, sir. Her scorn may be repaid--would to G.o.d I could say, with scorn, Mr.

Reeves! Adieu!"

And into his chariot he stept, pulling up the gla.s.ses with violence; and rearing up his head to the top of it, as he sat swelling. And away it drove.

A fine husband for your Harriet would this half madman make! Drawn in by his professions of love, and by 8,000 a year, I might have married him; and when too late found myself miserable, yoked with a tyrant and madman for the remainder of my life.

_VI.--Mr. Reeves to George Selby, Esq._

_Friday, February 17_. No one, at present, but yourself, must see the contents of what I am going to write.

You must not be too much surprised. But how shall I tell you the news; the dreadful news!

O, my cousin Selby! We know not what has become of our dearest Miss Byron.

We were last night at the masked ball in the Hay-market.