Adeline Mowbray Part 28

'Under such circ.u.mstances,' said Adeline, 'you yourself would not send a child to my school?'

'Why--really--I--as the world goes,' replied Berrendale.

'I am answered,' said Adeline with a look and tone of displeasure; and retired to her chamber, intending not to return till Berrendale was gone to his own lodging. But her heart soon reproached her with unjust resentment; and, coming back, she apologized to Berrendale for being angry at his laudable resolution of acting according to those principles which he thought most virtuous, especially as she claimed for herself a similar right.

Berrendale, gratified by her apology, replied, 'that he saw no objection to her plan, if she chose to deny him the happiness of sharing his income with her, provided she would settle in a village where she was not likely to be known, and change her name.'

'Change my name! Never. Concealment of any kind almost always implies the consciousness of guilt; and while my heart does not condemn me, my conduct shall not seem to accuse me. I will go to whatever place you shall recommend; but I beg your other request may be mentioned no more.'

Berrendale, glad to be forgiven on any terms, promised to comply with her wishes; and he having recommended to her to settle at a village some few miles north of London, Adeline hired there a small but commodious lodging, and issued immediately cards of advertis.e.m.e.nt, stating what she meant to teach, and on what terms; while Berrendale took lodgings within a mile of her, and the faithful mulatto attended her as a servant of all-work.

Fortunately, at this time, a lady at Richmond, who had a son the age of the tawny boy, became so attached to him, that she was desirous of bringing him up to be the play-fellow and future attendant on her son; and the mulatto, pleased to have him so well disposed of, resisted the poor little boy's tears and reluctance at the idea of being separated from her and Adeline: and before she left Richmond she had the satisfaction of seeing him comfortably settled in the house of his patroness.

Adeline succeeded in her undertaking even beyond her utmost wishes.

Though unknown and unrecommended, there was in her countenance and manner a something so engaging, so strongly inviting confidence, and so decisively bespeaking the gentlewoman, that she soon excited in the village general respect and attention: and no sooner were scholars entrusted to her care, than she became the idol of her pupils; and their improvement was rapid in proportion to the love which they bore her.

This fortunate circ.u.mstance proved a balm to the wounded mind of Adeline. She felt that she had recovered her usefulness--that desideratum in morals; and life, spite of her misfortunes, acquired a charm in her eyes. True it was, that she was restored to her capability of being useful, by being where she was unknown; and because the mulatto, unknown to her, had described her as reduced to earn her living, on account of the death of the man to whom she was about to be married: but she did not revert to the reasons of her being so generally esteemed; she contented herself with the consciousness of being so; and for some months she was tranquil, though not happy. But her tranquillity was destined to be of short duration.

CHAPTER XVIII

The village in which Adeline resided happened to be the native place of Mary Warner, the servant whom she had been forced to dismiss at Richmond; and who having gone from Mrs Pemberton to another situation, which she had also quitted, came to visit her friends.

The wish of saying lessening things of those of whom one hears extravagant commendations, is, I fear, common to almost every one, even where the object praised comes in no compet.i.tion with oneself:--and when Mary Warner heard from every quarter of the grace and elegance, affability and active benevolence of the new comer, it was no doubt infinitely gratifying to her to be able to exclaim,--'Mowbray! did you say her name is? La! I dares to say it is my old mistress, who was kept by one Mr Glenmurray!' But so greatly were her auditors prepossessed in favour of Adeline, that very few of them could be prevailed upon to believe Mary's supposition was just; and so much was she piqued at the disbelief which she met with, that she declared she would go to church the next Sunday to shame the hussey, and go up and speak to her in the church-yard before all the people.

'Ah! do so, if you ever saw our Miss Mowbray before,' was the answer: and Mary eagerly looked forward to the approaching Sunday. Meanwhile, as we are all of us but too apt to repeat stories to the prejudice of others, even though we do not believe them, this strange a.s.sertion of Mary was circulated through the village even by Adeline's admirers; and the next Sunday was expected by the unconscious Adeline alone with no unusual eagerness.

Sunday came; and Adeline, as she was wont to do, attended the service: but from the situation of her pew, she could neither see Mary nor be seen by her till church was over. Adeline then, as usual, was walking down the broad walk of the church-yard, surrounded by the parents of the children who came to her school, and receiving from them the customary marks of respect, when Mary, bustling through the crowd, accosted her with:--'So!--your sarvant, Miss Mowbray, I am glad to see you here in such a respectable situation.'

Adeline, though in the gaily-dressed lady who accosted her she had some difficulty in recognizing her quondam servant, recollected the pert shrill voice and insolent manner of Mary immediately; and involuntarily starting when she addressed her, from painful a.s.sociations and fear of impending evil, she replied, 'How are you, Mary?' in a faltering tone.

'Then it is Mary's Miss Mowbray,' whispered Mary's auditors of the day before to each other; while Mary, proud of her success, looked triumphantly at them, and was resolved to pursue the advantage which she had gained.

'So you have lost Mr Glenmurray, I find!' continued Mary.

Adeline spoke not, but walked hastily on:--but Mary kept pace with her, speaking as loud as she could.

'And did the little one live, pray?'

Still Adeline spoke not.

'What sort of a getting-up had you, Miss Mowbray?'

At this mischievously-intended question Adeline's other sensations were lost in strong indignation; and resuming all the modest but collected dignity of her manner, she turned round, and fixing her eyes steadily on the insulting girl, exclaimed aloud, 'Woman, I never injured you either in thought, word, or deed:--Whence comes it, then, that you endeavour to make the finger of scorn point at me, and make me shrink with shame and confusion from the eye of observation?'

'Woman! indeed!' replied Mary--but she was not allowed to proceed; for a gentleman hastily stepped forward, crying, 'It is impossible for us to suffer such insults to be offered to Miss Mowbray:--I desire, therefore, that you will take your daughter away (turning to Mary's father); and, if possible, teach her better manners.' Having said this, he overtook the agitated Adeline; and offering her his arm, saw her home to her lodgings: while those who had heard with surprise and suspicion the strange and impertinent questions and insolent tone of Mary, resumed in a degree their confidence in Adeline, and turned a disgusted and deaf ear to the hysterical vehemence with which the half-sobbing Mary defended herself, and vilified Adeline, as her father and brother-in-law, almost by force, led her out of the church-yard.

The gentleman who had so kindly stepped forward to the a.s.sistance of Adeline was Mr Beauclerc, the surgeon of the village, a man of considerable abilities and liberal principles; and when he bade Adeline farewell, he said, 'My wife will do herself the pleasure of calling on you this evening:' then, kindly pressing her hand, he with a respectful bow took his leave.

Luckily for Adeline, Berrendale was detained in town that day; and she was spared the mortification of showing herself to him, writhing as she was under the agonies of public shame, for such it seemed to her.

Convinced as she was of the light in which she must have appeared to the persons around her from the malicious interrogatories of Mary;--convinced too, as she was more than beginning to be, of the fallacy of the reasoning which had led her to deserve, and even to glory in, the situation which she now blushed to hear disclosed;--and conscious as she was, that to remain in the village, and expect to retain her school, was now impossible--she gave herself up to a burst of sorrow and despondence; during which her only consolation was, that it was not witnessed by Berrendale.

It never for a moment entered into the ingenuous mind of Adeline, that her declaration would have more weight than that of Mary Warner; and that she might, with almost a certainty of being believed, deny her charge entirely: on the contrary, she had no doubt but that Mrs Beauclerc was coming to inquire into the grounds for Mary's gross address; and she was resolved to confess to her all the circ.u.mstances of her story.

After church in the afternoon Mrs Beauclerc arrived, and Adeline observed, with pleasure, that her manner was even kinder than usual; it was such as to ensure the innocent of the most strenuous support, and to invite the guilty to confidence and penitence.

'Never, my dear Miss Mowbray,' said Mrs Beauclerc, 'did I call on you with more readiness than now; as I come a.s.sured that you will give me not only the most ample authority to contradict, but the fullest means to confute, the vile calumnies which that malicious girl, Mary Warner, has, ever since she entered the village, been propagating against you: but, indeed, she is so little respected in her rank of life, and you so highly in yours, that your mere denial of the truth of her statement will, to every candid mind, be sufficient to clear your character.'

Adeline never before was so strongly tempted to violate the truth; and there was a friendly earnestness in Mrs Beauclerc's manner, which proved that it would be almost cruel to destroy the opinion which she entertained of her virtue. For a moment Adeline felt disposed to yield to the temptation, but it was only for a moment,--and in a hurried and broken voice she replied, 'Mary Warner has a.s.serted of me nothing but--'

Here her voice faltered.

'Nothing but falsehoods, no doubt, interrupted Mrs Beauclerc triumphantly,--'I thought so.'

'Nothing but the TRUTH!' resumed Adeline.

'Impossible!' cried Mrs Beauclerc, dropping the cold hand which she held: and Adeline, covering her face, and throwing herself back in the chair, sobbed aloud.

Mrs Beauclerc was herself for some time unable to speak; but at length she faintly said--'So sensible, so pious, so well-informed, and so pure-minded as you seem!--to what strange arts, what wicked seductions, did you fall a victim?'

'To no arts--to no seductions'--replied Adeline, recovering all her energy at this insinuation against Glenmurray. 'My fall from virtue as you would call it, was, I may say, from love of what I thought virtue; and if there be any blame, it attaches merely to my confidence in my lover's wisdom and my own too obstinate self-conceit. But you, dear madam, deserve to hear my whole story; and, if you can favour me with an hour's attention, I hope, at least, to convince you that I was worthy of a better fate than to be publicly disgraced by a malicious and ignorant girl.'

Mrs Beauclerc promised the most patient attention; and Adeline related the eventful history of her life, slightly dwelling on those parts of it which in any degree reflected on her mother, and extolling most highly her sense, her accomplishments, and her maternal tenderness. When she came to the period of Glenmurray's illness and death, she broke abruptly off and rushed into her own chamber; and it was some minutes before she could return to Mrs Beauclerc, or before her visitor could wish her to return, as she was herself agitated and affected by the relation which she had heard:--and when Adeline came in she threw her arms round her neck, and pressed her to her heart with a feeling of affection that spoke consolation to the wounded spirit of the mourner.

She then resumed her narration;--and, having concluded it, Mrs Beauclerc, seizing her hand, exclaimed, 'For G.o.d's sake, marry Mr Berrendale immediately; and adjure for ever, at the foot of the altar, those errors in opinion to which all your misery has been owing!'

'Would I could atone for them some other way!' she replied.

'Impossible! and if you have any regard for me you will become the wife of your generous lover; for then, and not till then, can I venture to a.s.sociate with you.'

'I thought so,' cried Adeline; 'I thought all idea of remaining here, with any chance of keeping my scholars, was now impossible.'

'It would not be so,' replied Mrs Beauclerc, 'if every one thought like me: I should consider your example as a warning to all young people; and to preserve my children from evil I should only wish them to hear your story, as it inculcates most powerfully how vain are personal graces, talents, sweetness of temper, and even active benevolence, to ensure respectability and confer happiness, without a strict regard to the long-established rules for conduct, and a continuance in those paths of virtue and decorum which the wisdom of ages has pointed out to the steps of every one.--But others will, no doubt, consider, that continuing to patronize you, would be patronizing vice; and my rank in life is not high enough to enable me to countenance you with any chance of leading others to follow my example; while I should not be able to serve you, but should infallibly lose myself. But some time hence, as the wife of Mr Berrendale, I might receive you as your merits deserve: till then--'

Here Mrs Beauclerc paused, and she hesitated to add, 'we meet no more.'

Indeed it was long before the parting took place. Mrs Beauclerc had justly appreciated the merits of Adeline, and thought she had found in her a friend and companion for years to come: besides, her children were most fondly attached to her; and Mrs Beauclerc, while she contemplated their daily improvement under her care, felt grateful to Adeline for the unfolding excellencies of her daughters. Still, to part with her was unavoidable; but the pang of separation was in a degree soothed to Adeline by the certainty which Mrs Beauclerc's sorrow gave her, that, spite of her errors, she had inspired a real friends.h.i.+p in the bosom of a truly virtuous and respectable woman; and this idea gave a sensation of joy to her heart to which it had long been a stranger.

The next morning some of the parents, whom Mary's tale had not yet reached, sent their children as usual. But Adeline refused to enter upon any school duties, bidding them affectionately farewell, and telling them that she was going to write to their parents, as she was obliged to leave her present situation, and, declining keeping school, meant to reside, she believed in London.

The children on hearing this looked at each other with almost tearful consternation; and Adeline observed, with pleasure, the interest which she had made to herself in their young hearts. After they were gone she sent a circular letter to her friends in the village, importing that she was under the necessity of leaving her present residence; but that, whatever her future situation might be, she should always remember, with grat.i.tude, the favours which she had received at ----.

The necessity that drove her away was, by this time, very well understood by every one; but Mrs Beauclerc took care to tell those who mentioned the subject to her, the heads of Adeline's story; and to add always, 'and I have reason to believe that, as soon as she is settled in town, she will be extremely well married.'

To the mulatto the change in Adeline's plans was particularly pleasing, as it would bring her nearer her son, and nearer William, from whom nothing but a sense of grateful duty to Adeline would so long have divided her. But Savanna imagined that Adeline's removal was owing to her having at last determined to marry Mr Berrendale; an event which she, for Adeline's sake, earnestly wished to take place, though for her own she was undecided whether to desire it or not, as Mr Berrendale might not, perhaps, be as contented with her services as Adeline was.

While these thoughts were pa.s.sing in Savanna's mind, and her warm and varying feelings were expressed by alternate smiles and tears, Mr Berrendale arrived from town: and as Savanna opened the door to him, she, half whimpering, half smiling, dropped him a very respectful curtsey, and looked at him with eyes full of unusual significance.