Tales and Novels Volume III Part 40

And so in fact it was.

There is a certain cla.s.s of people, who are incapable of generous confidence in their equals, but who are disposed to yield implicit credit to the underhand information of mean emissaries. Through the medium of Champfort and the _stupid maid_, Mrs. Freke had learned a confused story of a man's footsteps having been heard in Lady Delacour's boudoir, of his being let in by Marriott secretly, of his having remained locked up there for several hours, and of the maid's having been turned away, merely because she innocently went to open the door whilst the gentleman was in concealment. Mrs. Freke was farther informed by the same unquestionable authority, that Lady Delacour had taken a house at Twickenham, for the express purpose of meeting her lover: that Miss Portman and Marriott were the only persons who were to be of this party of pleasure.

Upon the faith of this intelligence, Mrs. Freke, who had accompanied Mrs. Luttridge to town, immediately repaired to Twickenham, to pay a visit to a third cousin, that she might have an opportunity of detecting the intrigues, and afterwards of publis.h.i.+ng the disgrace, of her former friend. The desire of revenging herself upon Miss Portman, for having declined her civilities at Harrowgate, had also a powerful influence in stimulating her malicious activity. She knew that if it were proved that Belinda was the confidante of Lady Delacour's intrigues, her reputation must be materially injured, and that the Percivals would then be as desirous to break off as they now were anxious to promote the match with Mr. Vincent. Charmed with this hope of a double triumph, the vindictive lady commenced her operations, nor was she ashamed to descend to the character of a spy. The general and convenient name of _frolic_, she thought, would cover every species of meanness. She swore that "it was charming fun to equip herself at night in men's clothes, and to sally forth to reconnoitre the motions of the enemy."

By an unfrequented path she used to gain the window that looked into Lady Delacour's bedchamber. This was the figure which appeared at night at a certain hour, and which, to her ladys.h.i.+p's disturbed imagination, seemed to be the form of Colonel Lawless. There was, indeed, a resemblance in their size and persons, which favoured the delusion.

For several nights Mrs. Freke paid these visits without obtaining any satisfaction; but this night she thought herself overpaid for her exertions, by the charming discovery which she fancied she had made. She mistook the surgeon for a lover of Lady Delacour's; and she was hurrying home with the joyful intelligence, when she was caught in the gardener's trap. The agony that she suffered was at first intense, but in a few hours the pain somewhat subsided; and in this interval of rest she turned to Belinda, and with a malicious smile said,--"Miss Portman, 'tis fair I should pay for my peeping; but I shall not pay quite so dear for it as some of my friends."

Miss Portman did not in the least comprehend her, till she added, "I'm sure you'll allow that 'tis better for a lady to lose her leg than her reputation--and for my part I'd rather be caught in a man trap, than have a man caught in my bedchamber. My service to your friend, Lady Delacour, and tell her so."

"And do you know who that gentleman was, that you saw in her ladys.h.i.+p's room?"

"Not I, not yet; but I'll make it my business to find out. I give you fair notice; I'm a very devil when provoked. Why didn't you make me your friend when you could?--You'll not baffle me. I have seen all I wanted, and I am capable of painting all I saw. As to who the man might be, that's no matter; one Lothario is as good as another for my purpose."

Longer had Mrs. Freke spoken with malignant triumph, had she not been interrupted by a burst of laughter from the surgeon. Her vexation was indescribable when he informed her, that he was the man whom she had seen in Lady Delacour's bedchamber, and whom she had mistaken for a favoured lover.

Mrs. Freke's leg was much cut and bruised; and now that she was no longer supported by the hopes of revenge, she began to lament loudly and incessantly the injury that she had sustained. She impatiently inquired how long it was probable that she should be confined by this accident; and she grew quite outrageous when it was hinted, that the beauty of her legs would be spoiled, and that she would never more be able to appear to advantage in man's apparel. The dread of being seen by Lady Delacour in the deplorable yet ludicrous situation to which she had reduced herself operated next upon her mind, and every time the door of the apartment opened, she looked with terror towards it, expecting to see her ladys.h.i.+p appear. But though Lady Delacour heard from Marriott immediately the news of Mrs. Freke's disaster, she never disturbed her by her presence. She was too generous to insult a fallen foe.

Early in the morning Mrs. Freke was by her own desire conveyed to her cousin's house, where without regret we shall leave her to suffer the consequences of her frolic.

"A false prophetess! Nowithstanding all my visions, I have outlived the night, you see," said Lady Delacour, to Miss Portman when they met in the morning. "I have heard, my dear Belinda, and I believe, that the pa.s.sion of love, which can endure caprice, vice, wrinkles, deformity, poverty, nay, disease itself, is notwithstanding so squeamish as to be instantaneously disgusted by the perception of folly in the object beloved. I hope friends.h.i.+p, though akin to love, is of a more robust const.i.tution, else what would become of me? My folly, and my visions, and my spectre--oh, that I had not exposed myself to you in this manner!

Harriot Freke herself is scarcely more contemptible. Spies and cowards are upon an equal footing. Her malice and her _frolic_ are consistent with her character, but my fears and my superst.i.tion are totally inconsistent with mine. Forget the nonsense I talked to you last night, my dear, or fancy that I was then under the dominion of laudanum. This morning you shall see Lady Delacour _herself again_. Is Dr. X----, is the surgeon ready? Where are they? I am prepared. My fort.i.tude shall redeem me in your opinion, Belinda, and in my own."

Doctor X---- and the surgeon immediately obeyed her summons.

Helena heard them go into Lady Delacour's room, and she saw by Marriott's countenance, who followed, that her mother was going to submit to the operation. She sat down trembling on the steps which led to her mother's room, and waited there a long time, as she thought, in the most painful suspense. At last she heard some one call Helena. She looked up, and saw her father close to her.

"Helena," said he, "how is your mother?"

"I don't know. Oh, papa, you cannot go in there _now_," said Helena, stopping him as he was pressing forwards.

"Why did not you or Miss Portman write to me yesterday, as you promised?" said Lord Delacour, in a voice that showed he was scarcely able to ask the question.

"Because, papa, we had nothing to tell you: nothing was done yesterday.

But the surgeon is now there," said Helena, pointing towards her mother's room.

Lord Delacour stood motionless for an instant; then suddenly seizing his daughter's hand, "Let us go," said he: "if we stay here, we shall hear her screams;" and he was hurrying her away, when the door of Lady Delacour's apartment opened, and Belinda appeared, her countenance radiant with joy.

"Good news, dear Helena! Oh, my lord! you are come in a happy moment--I give you joy."

"Joy! joy! joy!" cried Marriott, following.

"Is it all over?" said Lord Delacour.

"And without a single shriek!" said Helena. "What courage!"

"There's no need of shrieks, or courage either, thank G.o.d," said Marriott. "Dr. X---- says so, and he is the best man in the world, and the cleverest. And I was right from the first; I said it was impossible my lady should have such a shocking complaint as she thought she had.

There's no such thing at all in the case, my lord! I said so always, till I was persuaded out of my senses by that villainous quack, who contradicted me for this own 'molument. And Doctor X---- says, if my lady will leave off the terrible quant.i.ties of laudanum she takes, he'll engage for her recovery."

The surgeon and Dr. X---- now explained to Lord Delacour that the unprincipled wretch to whom her ladys.h.i.+p had applied for a.s.sistance had persuaded her that she had a cancer, though in fact her complaint arose merely from the bruise which she had received. He knew too well how to make a wound hideous and painful, and so continue her delusion for his own advantage. Dr. X---- observed, that if Lady Delacour would have permitted either the surgeon or him to have _examined_ sooner into the real state of the case, it would have saved herself infinite pain, and them all anxiety. Belinda at this moment felt too much to speak.

"I'm morally certain," cried Marriott, "Mr. Champfort would die with vexation, if he could see the joy that's painted in my lord's face this minute. And we may thank Miss Portman for this, for 'twas she made every thing go right, and I never expected to live to see so happy a day."

Whilst Marriott ran on in this manner with all the volubility of joy, Lord Delacour pa.s.sed her with some difficulty, and Helena was in her mother's arms in an instant.

Lady Delacour, struck to the heart by their affectionate looks and words, burst into tears. "How little have I deserved this kindness from you, my lord! or from you, my child! But my feelings," added she, wiping away her tears, "shall not waste themselves in tears, nor in vain thanks. My actions, the whole course of my future life, shall show that I am not quite a brute. Even brutes are won by kindness. Observe, my lord," continued she, smiling, "I said _won_, not _tamed!_--A tame Lady Delacour would be a sorry animal, not worth looking at. Were she even to become domesticated, she would fare the worse."

"How so?--How so, my dear?" said Lord Delacour and Belinda almost in the same breath.

"How so?--Why, if Lady Delacour were to wash off her rouge, and lay aside her air, and be as gentle, good, and kind as Belinda Portman, for instance, her lord would certainly say to her,

'So alter'd are your face and mind, 'Twere perjury to love you now.'"

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE CHAPLAIN.

In some minds, emotions of joy are always connected with feelings of benevolence and generosity. Lady Delacour's heart expanded with the sensations of friends.h.i.+p and grat.i.tude, now that she was relieved from those fears by which she had so long been oppressed.

"My dear daughter," said she to Helena, "have you at this instant any wish that I can gratify?--Ask any thing you please, the fairy Goodwill shall contrive to get it for you in a trice. You have thought of a wish at this moment, I know, by your eyes, by your blush. Nay, do not hesitate. Do you doubt me because I do not appear before you in the shape of a little ugly woman, like Cinderella's G.o.dmother? or do you despise me because you do not see a wand waving in my hand?--'Ah, little skilled of fairy lore!' know that I am in possession of a talisman that can command more than ever fairy granted. Behold my talisman," continued she, drawing out her purse, and showing the gold through the net-work.

"Speak boldly, then," cried she to Helena, "and be obeyed."

"Ah, mamma," said Helena, "I was not thinking of what fairies or gold can give; but you can grant my wish, and if you will let me, I will whisper it to you."

Lady Delacour stooped to hear her daughter's whisper.

"Your wish is granted, my own grateful, charming girl," said her mother.

Helena's wish was, that her mother could be reconciled to her good aunt, Margaret Delacour.

Her ladys.h.i.+p sat down instantly, and wrote to Mrs. Delacour. Helena was the bearer of this letter, and Lady Delacour promised to wait upon this excellent old lady as soon as she should return to town.

In the meantime her ladys.h.i.+p's health rapidly improved under the skilful care of Dr. X----: it had been terribly injured by the ignorance and villany of the wretch to whom she had so long and so rashly trusted. The nostrums which he persuaded her to take, and the immoderate use of opium to which she accustomed herself, would have ruined her const.i.tution, had it not been uncommonly strong. Dr. X---- recommended it to her ladys.h.i.+p to abstain gradually from opium, and this advice she had the resolution to follow with uninterrupted perseverance.

The change in Lady Delacour's manner of life, in the hours and the company that she kept, contributed much to her recovery.[9] She was no longer in continual anxiety to conceal the state of her health from the world. She had no secret to keep--no part to act; her reconciliation with her husband and with his friends restored her mind to ease and self-complacency. Her little Helena was a source of daily pleasure; and no longer conscious of neglecting her daughter, she no longer feared that the affections of her child should be alienated. Dr. X----, well aware that the pa.s.sions have a powerful influence over the body, thought it full as necessary, in some cases, to attend to the mind as to the pulse. By conversing with Lady Delacour, and by combining hints and circ.u.mstances, he soon discovered what had lately been the course of her reading, and what impression it had made on her imagination.

Mrs. Marriott, indeed, a.s.sisted him with her opinion concerning _the methodistical books_; and when he recollected the forebodings of death which her ladys.h.i.+p had felt, and the terror with which she had been seized on the night of Mrs. Freke's adventure, he was convinced that superst.i.tious horrors hung upon his patient's spirits, and affected her health. To argue on religious subjects was not his province, much less his inclination; but he was acquainted with a person qualified by his profession and his character 'to minister to a mind diseased,' and he resolved on the first favourable opportunity to introduce this gentleman to her ladys.h.i.+p.

One morning Lady Delacour was complaining to Belinda, that the books in the library were in dreadful confusion. "My lord has really a very fine library," said she; "but I wish he had half as many books twice as well arranged: I never can find any thing I want. Dr. X----, I wish to heaven you could recommend a librarian to my lord--not a chaplain, observe."

"Why not a chaplain, may I ask your ladys.h.i.+p?" said the doctor.

"Oh, because we had once a chaplain, who gave me a surfeit of the whole tribe. The meanest sycophant, yet the most impertinent busy-body--always cringing, yet always intriguing--wanting to govern the whole family, and at the same time every creature's humble servant--fawning to my lord the bishop, insolent to the poor curate--anathematizing all who differed from him in opinion, yet without dignity to enforce the respect due to his faith or his profession--greedy for preferment, yet without a thought of the duties of his office. It was the common practice of this man to leap from his horse at the church door on a holiday, after following a pack of hounds, huddle on his surplice, and gabble over the service with the most indecent mockery of religion. Do I speak with acrimony? I have reason. It was this chaplain who first led my lord to Newmarket; it was he who first taught my lord to drink. Then he was _a wit_--an insufferable wit. His conversation after he had drank was such as no woman but Harriot Freke could understand, and such as few _gentlemen_ could hear. I have never, alas! been thought a prude, but in the heyday of my youth and gaiety, this man always disgusted me. In one word, he was a buck parson. I hope you have as great a horror for this species of animal as I have?"

"Full as great," replied Dr. X----; "but I consider them as monsters, which belonging to no species, can disgrace none."