The Absentee Part 11

'No doubt. Ay, do you hear that NO DOUBT, Colambre?--Grace, you see, has no doubt; n.o.body has any doubt but yourself, Colambre.'

'And are your affections engaged, and not to Miss Broadhurst?' said Miss Nugent, approaching Lord Colambre.

'There now! you see how you surprise and disappoint everybody, Colambre.'

'I am sorry that Miss Nugent should be disappointed,' said Lord Colambre.

'But because I am disappointed, pray do not call me Miss Nugent, or turn away from me, as if you were displeased.'

'It must, then, be some Cambridges.h.i.+re lady,' said Lady Clonbrony. 'I am sure I am very sorry he ever went to Cambridge,--Oxford I advised: one of the Miss Berryls, I presume, who have nothing. I'll have nothing more to do with those Berryls--there was the reason of the son's vast intimacy. Grace, you may give up all thoughts of Sir Arthur.'

'I have no thoughts to give up, ma'am,' said Miss Nugent, smiling. 'Miss Broadhurst,' continued she, going on eagerly with what she was saying to Lord Colambre--'Miss Broadhurst is my friend, a friend I love and admire; but you will allow that I strictly kept my promise, never to praise her to you, till you should begin to praise her to me. Now recollect, last night, you did praise her to me, so justly, that I thought you liked her, I confess; so that it is natural I should feel a little disappointed. Now you know the whole of my mind; I have no intention to encroach on your confidence; therefore, there is no occasion to look so embarra.s.sed. I give you my word, I will never speak to you again upon the subject,' said she, holding out her hand to him, 'provided you will never again call me Miss Nugent. Am I not your own cousin Grace--Do not be displeased with her.'

'You are my own dear cousin Grace; and nothing can be farther from my mind than any thought of being displeased with her; especially just at this moment, when I am going away, probably for a considerable time.'

'Away!--when?--where?'

'To-morrow morning, for Ireland.'

'Ireland! of all places,' cried Lady Clonbrony. 'What upon earth puts it into your head to go to Ireland? You do very well to go out of the way of falling in love ridiculously, since that is the reason of your going; but what put Ireland into your head, child?'

'I will not presume to ask my mother what put Ireland out of her head,'

said Lord Colambre, smiling; 'but she will recollect that it is my native country.'

'That was your father's fault, not mine,' said Lady Clonbrony; 'for I wished to have been confined in England; but he would have it to say that his son and heir was born at Clonbrony Castle--and there was a great argument between him and my uncle, and something about the Prince of Wales and Caernarvon Castle was thrown in, and that turned the scale, much against my will; for it was my wish that my son should be an Englishman born--like myself. But, after all, I don't see that having the misfortune to be born in a country should tie one to it in any sort of way; and I should have hoped your English EDICATION, Colambre, would have given you too liberal IDEARS for that--so I REELLY don't see why you should go to Ireland merely because it's your native country.'

'Not merely because it is my native country; but I wish to go thither--I desire to become acquainted with it--because it is the country in which my father's property lies, and from which we draw our subsistence.'

'Subsistence! Lord bless me, what a word! fitter for a pauper than a n.o.bleman-subsistence! Then, if you are going to look after your father's property, I hope you will make the agents do their duty, and send us remittances. And pray how long do you mean to stay?'

'Till I am of age, madam, if you have no objection. I will spend the ensuing months in travelling in Ireland; and I will return here by the time I am of age, unless you and my father should, before that time, be in Ireland.'

'Not the least chance of that, if I can prevent it, I promise you,' said Lady Clonbrony.

Lord Colambre and Miss Nugent sighed.

'And I am sure I shall take it very unkindly of you, Colambre, if you go and turn out a partisan for Ireland, after all, like Grace Nugent.'

'A partisan! no;--I hope not a partisan, but a friend,' said Miss Nugent.

'Nonsense, child!--I hate to hear people, women especially, and young ladies particularly, talk of being friends to this country or that country. What can they know about countries? Better think of being friends to themselves, and friends to their friends.'

'I was wrong,' said Miss Nugent, 'to call myself a friend to Ireland; I meant to say, that Ireland had been a friend to me; that I found Irish friends, when I had no other; an Irish home, when I had no other; that my earliest and happiest years, under your kind care, had been spent there; and that I can never forget THAT my dear aunt--I hope you do not wish that I should.'

'Heaven forbid, my sweet Grace!' said Lady Clonbrony, touched by her voice and manner--'Heaven forbid! I don't wish you to do or be anything but what you are; for I am convinced there's nothing I could ask you would not do for me; and, I can tell you, there's few things you could ask, love, I would not do for you.'

A wish was instantly expressed in the eyes of her niece.

Lady Clonbrony, though not usually quick at interpreting the wishes of others, understood and answered, before she ventured to make her request in words.

'Ask anything but THAT, Grace. Return to Clonbrony, while I am able to live in London? That I never can or will do for you or anybody!' looking at her son in all the pride of obstinacy; 'so there is an end of the matter. Go you where you please, Colambre; and I shall stay where I please:--I suppose, as your mother, I have a right to say this much?'

Her son, with the utmost respect, a.s.sured her that he had no design to infringe upon her undoubted liberty of judging for herself; that he had never interfered, except so far as to tell her circ.u.mstances of her affairs, with which she seemed to be totally unacquainted, and of which it might be dangerous to her to continue in ignorance.

'Don't talk to me about affairs,' cried she, drawing her hand away from her son. 'Talk to my lord, or my lord's agents, since you are going to Ireland, about business--I know nothing about business; but this I know, I shall stay in England, and be in London, every season, as long as I can afford it; and when I cannot afford to live here, I hope I shall not live anywhere. That's my notion of life; and that's my determination, once for all; for, if none of the rest of the Clonbrony family have any, I thank Heaven I have some spirit.' Saying this, with her most stately manner she walked out of the room. Lord Colambre instantly followed her; for, after the resolution and the promise he had made, he did not dare to trust himself at this moment with Miss Nugent.

There was to be a concert this night at Lady Clonbrony's, at which Mrs.

and Miss Broadhurst were, of course, expected. That they might not be quite unprepared for the event of her son's going to Ireland, Lady Clonbrony wrote a note to Mrs. Broadhurst, begging her to come half an hour earlier than the time mentioned in the cards, 'that she might talk over something PARTICULAR that had just occurred.'

What pa.s.sed at this cabinet council, as it seems to have had no immediate influence on affairs, we need not record. Suffice it to observe, that a great deal was said, and nothing done. Miss Broadhurst, however, was not a young lady who could be easily deceived, even where her pa.s.sions were concerned. The moment her mother told her of Lord Colambre's intended departure, she saw the whole truth. She had a strong mind--was capable of drawing aside, at once, the curtain of self-delusion, and looking steadily at the skeleton of truth--she had a generous, perhaps because a strong mind; for, surrounded, as she had been from her childhood, by every means of self-indulgence which wealth and flattery could bestow, she had discovered early, what few persons in her situation discover till late in life, that selfish gratifications may render us incapable of other happiness, but can never, of themselves, make us happy. Despising flatterers, she had determined to make herself friends to make them in the only possible way--by deserving them. Her father made his immense fortune by the power and habit of constant, bold, and just calculation. The power and habit which she had learned from him she applied on a far larger scale; with him, it was confined to speculations for the acquisition of money; with her, it extended to the attainment of happiness. He was calculating and mercenary: she was estimative and generous.

Miss Nugent was dressing for the concert, or, rather, was sitting half-dressed before her gla.s.s, reflecting, when Miss Broadhurst came into her room. Miss Nugent immediately sent her maid out of the room.

'Grace,' said Miss Broadhurst, looking at Grace with an air of open, deliberate composure, 'you and I are thinking of the same thing--of the same person.'

'Yes, of Lord Colambre,' said Miss Nugent, ingenuously and sorrowfully.

'Then I can put your mind at ease, at once, my dear friend, by a.s.suring you that I shall think of him no more. That I have thought of him, I do not deny--I have thought, that if, notwithstanding the difference in our ages, and other differences, he had preferred me, I should have preferred him to any person who has ever yet addressed me. On our first acquaintance, I clearly saw that he was not disposed to pay court to my fortune; and I had also then coolness of judgment sufficient to perceive that it was not probable he should fall in love with my person. But I was too proud in my humility, too strong in my honesty, too brave, too ignorant; in short, I knew nothing of the matter. We are all of us, more or less, subject to the delusions of vanity, or hope, or love--I--even I!--who thought myself so clear-sighted, did not know how, with one flutter of his wings, Cupid can set the whole atmosphere in motion; change the proportions, size, colour, value, of every object; lead us into a mirage, and leave us in a dismal desert.'

'My dearest friend!' said Miss Nugent, in a tone of true sympathy.

'But none but a coward, or a fool would sit down in the desert and weep, instead of trying to make his way back before the storm rises, obliterates the track, and overwhelms everything. Poetry apart, my dear Grace, you may be a.s.sured that I shall think no more of Lord Colambre.'

'I believe you are right. But I am sorry, very sorry, it must be so.'

'Oh, spare me your sorrow!'

'My sorrow is for Lord Colambre,' said Miss Nugent. 'Where will he find such a wife?--Not in Miss Berryl, I am sure--pretty as she is; a mere fine lady! Is it possible that Lord Colambre! Lord Colambre! should prefer such a girl--Lord Colambre!'

Miss Broadhurst looked at her friend as she spoke, and saw truth in her eyes; saw that she had no suspicion that she was herself the person beloved.

'Tell me, Grace, are you sorry that Lord Colambre is going away?'

'No, I am glad. I was sorry when I first heard it; but now I am glad, very glad; it may save him from a marriage unworthy of him, restore him to himself, and reserve him for--the only woman I ever saw who is suited to him, who is equal to him, who would value and love him, as he deserves to be valued and loved.'

'Stop, my dear; if you mean me, I am not, and I never can be, that woman. Therefore, as you are my friend, and wish my happiness, as I sincerely believe you do, never, I conjure you, present such an idea before my mind again--it is out of my mind, I hope, for ever. It is important to me that you should know and believe this. At least I will preserve my friends. Now let this subject never be mentioned or alluded to again between us, my dear. We have subjects enough of conversation; we need not have recourse to pernicious sentimental gossipings. There is a great difference between wanting a CONFIDANTE, and treating a friend with confidence. My confidence you possess; all that ought, all that is to be known of my mind, you know, and--Now I will leave you in peace to dress for the concert.'

'Oh, don't go! you don't interrupt me. I shall be dressed in a few minutes; stay with me, and you may be a.s.sured, that neither now, nor at any other time, shall I ever speak to you on the subject you desire me to avoid. I entirely agree with you about CONFIDANTES and sentimental gossipings. I love you for not loving them.'

A thundering knock at the door announced the arrival of company.

'Think no more of love, but as much as you please of friends.h.i.+p--dress yourself as fast as you can,' said Miss Broadhurst. 'Dress, dress is the order of the day.'

Order of the day and order of the night, and all for people I don't care for in the least,' said Grace. 'So life pa.s.ses!'

'Dear me, Miss Nugent,' cried Pet.i.to, Lady Clonbrony's woman, coming in with a face of alarm, 'not dressed yet! My lady is gone down, and Mrs. Broadhurst and my Lady Poc.o.c.ke's come, and the Honourable Mrs.

Trembleham; and signor, the Italian singing gentleman, has been walking up and down the apartments there by himself, disconsolate, this half-hour, and I wondering all the time n.o.body rang for me--but my lady dressed, Lord knows how! without anybody. Oh, merciful! Miss Nugent, if you could stand still for one single particle of a second. So then I thought of stepping in to Miss Nugent; for the young ladies are talking so fast, says I to myself, at the door, they will never know how time goes, unless I give 'em a hint. But now my lady is below, there's no need, to be sure, to be nervous, so we may take the thing quietly, without being in a fl.u.s.trum. Dear ladies, is not this now a very sudden motion of our young lord's for Ireland?--Lud a mercy! Miss Nugent, I'm sure your motions is sudden enough; and your dress behind is all, I'm sure, I can't tell how.'--'Oh, never mind,' said the young lady, escaping from her; 'it will do very well, thank you, Pet.i.to.'