Barford Abbey Part 12

You and I differ much, my Lord.--Your father left his estate enc.u.mbered; it is not yet clear; you are of age, my Lord: pray, spare yourself the trouble of consulting me, if you do not think of _fortune_.

Duty to the memory of my rever'd father, the affection and grat.i.tude I owe you, Sir James, calls for my obedience:--without _your_ sanction, Sir, never shall my hand be given.

He seem'd pleas'd: I saw tears starting to his eyes; but still he was resolv'd to distress me.

Look about you, my child; look about you, Darcey;--there's Lady Jane Marshly, Miss Beaden, or--and was going on.

Pardon me, Sir James, for interrupting you; but really, I cannot take any Lady on recommendation: I am very difficult, perhaps _perverse_ in this point; my first attachment must be merely accidental.

Ah! these are the notions that ruin half the young fellows of this age.--_Accidental likings_--_First love_,--and the devil knows what, runs away with half the old family estates.--Why, the least thing men ought to expect, even if they marry for _love_, is six-pence for a s.h.i.+lling.--Once for all, my Lord, I must tell you, your _interest_ is to be consulted before your _inclinations_.

_Don't_ be ruffled, Sir James; _don't_ let us talk warmly of a matter which perhaps is at a great distance.

I wish it may be at a _great distance_, my Lord.--_If what I conjecture is true_--Here he paus'd, and look'd so sternly, that I expected all would out.

What do you _conjecture_, Sir?--Yes, I ask'd him what.--

Your Lords.h.i.+p must excuse my answering that question. _I hope_ I am wrong;--_I hope_ such a thing never enter'd your thoughts:--if it has--and he mutter'd something I could not understand; only I heard distinctly the words _unlucky_,--_imprudent_,--_unforeseen_.--I knew enough of their meaning to silence me.--Shaking him by the hand, I said, Well, Sir James, if you please, we will drop this subject for the present.--On which the conversation ended.

What a deal of patience and philosophy am I master of, to be here at my pen, whilst two old men are sucking in the honey which I should lay up for a winter's store?--Like Time, nothing can stand before her:--she mows down all ages.--Even Morgan, that man who us'd to look on a fine woman with more indifference than a horse or dog,--is now new-moulded;--not one oath in the s.p.a.ce where I have known twenty escape him:--instead of following his dogs the whole morning, he is eternally with the ladies.

If he rides out with my angel, for he's determin'd, he says, to make her a complete horsewoman, I must not presume to give the least direction, or _even_ touch the bridle.

I honour him for the tender regard he shews her:--yes, I go further; _he_ and _Mr. Watson_ may _love_ her;--they do _love_ her, and glory in declaring it.--I _love_ them in return;--but they are the only two, of all the race of batchelors within my knowledge, that should make _such_ a declaration with impunity.

Let me see: I shall be in London Sat.u.r.day evening;--Sunday, no post;--Monday, _then_ I determine to write to Sir James;--Wednesday, I may have an answer;--_Thursday_,--who knows but _Thursday!_--nothing is impossible; who knows but _Thursday_ I may return to all my hopes?--How much I resemble a shuttlec.o.c.k! how am I thrown from side to side by hope and fear; now up, now down; no sooner mounted by one hand than lower'd by another!

This moment a gleam of comfort steals sweetly through my heart;--but it is gone even before I could bid it welcome.--Why so fast!--to what spot is it fled?--Can there be a wretch more in need, who calls louder for its charitable ray than

DARCEY.

LETTER XXII.

Miss WARLEY to Lady MARY SUTTON

_From Mr. Jenkings's_

Now, my dear Lady, the time is absolutely fix'd for our embarkation; the 22d, without fail.--Mr. Smith intends coming himself, to accompany me to London.--How very good and obliging this!--I shall say nothing of it to Lady Powis, till Lord Darcey is gone, which will be Sat.u.r.day:--_he_ may go to France, if he pleases, but not with _me_.--

When I received Mrs. Smith's letter, he was mighty curious to know who it was from:--I found him examining the seal, as it lay on the table in Mr. Jenkings's parlour.--Here is a letter for you, Miss Warley, a good deal confus'd.--So I see, my Lord: I suppose from Lady Mary Sutton.

I fancy not;--it does not appear to be directed in the same hand with that my servant brought you last from the post-office.--I broke the seal; it was easy to perceive the contents gave me pleasure.

There is something, Miss Warley, which gives you particular satisfaction.

You are right, my Lord, I never was better pleas'd.

Then it is from Lady Mary?

_No_, not from Lady Mary.

From Mrs. Smith, _then?_--Do I guess _now?_--You say nothing; oh, there it is.--I could not forbear smiling.

Pray tell me, only _tell me_, and he caught one of my hands, if this letter does not fix the _very_ day of your setting out for France?

I thought him possest with the spirit of divination.--What could I do, in this case?--Falshoods I despise;--evasions are low, _very_ low, indeed:--yet I knew he ought not to be trusted with the contents, even at the expence of my veracity--I recollected myself, and looked grave.

My Lord, you must excuse me; this affair concerns only myself; even Lady Powis will not be acquainted with it yet.

I have done, if Lady Powis is not to be acquainted with it.--I have no right--I say _right_.--Don't look so, Miss Warley--_believe I did flare a little_--Time will unfold,--will cast a different light on things from that in which you now see them.

I was confus'd;--I put up my letter, went to the window, took a book from thence, and open'd it, without knowing what I did.

_Complete Pocket-Farrier; or, A Cure for all Disorders in Horses_, read his Lords.h.i.+p aloud, looking over my shoulder; for such was the t.i.tle of the book.

What have you here, my love?

_My love_, indeed! Mighty free, mighty free, was it not, my Lady? I could not avoid laughing at the drollery of this accident, or I should have given him the look he deserved.--I thank G.o.d I am come to a state of _indifference_; and my time here is so short, I would willingly appear as little reserv'd as possible, that he might not think I have chang'd my sentiments since his _declaring off_: though I must own I have; but my pride will not suffer me to betray it to him.

If he has distress'd me,--if he has led my heart a little astray,--I am recovered now:--I have found out my mistake.--Should I suffer my eye to drop a tear, on looking back, for the future it will be more watchful;--it will guard, it will protect the poor wanderer.

He is very busy settling his affairs with Sir James:--three hours were they together with Mr. Jenkings in the library;--his books all pack'd up and sent away, to be sure he does not intend returning _here_ again soon.

I suppose he will settle;--he talks of new furnis.h.i.+ng his house;--has consulted Lady Powis upon it.--If he did not intend marrying, if he had no Lady in his eye--

But what is all this to me? Can he or his house be of any consequence to my repose?--I enjoy the thoughts of going to France without him:--I suppose he will think me very sly, but no matter.--

That good-natur'd creature Edmund would match me to a prince, was it in his power.--He told me, yesterday, that he'd give the whole world, if I was not to go to France.--Why so, Edmund?--I shall see you again, said I, at my return to England.

Ay, but what will _somebody do_, in the mean time?

Who is _somebody?_

Can't you guess, Miss Warley?

I do guess, Edmund. But you was never more mistaken; the person you mean is not to be distress'd by _my_ absence.

He is, upon my honour;--I know _he is_.--Lord Darcey loves you to distraction.

Poh! Edmund; don't take such things into your head: I know _you_ wish me well; but don't be so sanguine!--Lord Darcey stoop to think of _me!_

Stoop to think of _you_, Miss Warley!--I am out of all patience: stoop to think of _you!_--I shall never forget _that_.--Greatly as I honour his Lords.h.i.+p, if he conceals his sentiments, if he trifles in an affair of such importance,--was he the first duke in the kingdom, I hold him below the regard even of such a one as _I_ am.--Pardon my curiosity, madam, I mean no ill; but surely he has made proposals to you.

Well, then, I will tell you, Edmund;--I'll tell you frankly, he never _has_ made proposals:--and further, I can answer for him, he never _will_.--His belief was stagger'd;--he stood still, his eyes fixed on the ground.