LordGlenmore's marriage soon became the subject of general conversation. The day of the nuptials was already named, and the ceremony was to be in the most splendid style. In compliment to Lord Glenmore, several of his acquaintance were invited. Amongst these was Lady Tilney and Lady Tenderden; the Comtesse Leinsengen of course; and Lady Ellersby, who on her mother's side was related to the family of the Melcombs. The parties named expressed themselves annoyed at the idea of forming part of what they called theMelcomb mélange; but a secret wish to retain an influence with Lord Glenmore, whose marriage it was intended should not, without a trial of Miss Melcomb's aptitude forton, banish him from their circle.
The whole affair, however, wassotto sugezionein the opinion of Lady Tilney and her friends."The strangest thing of all is," exclaimed the former, as she was conversing on the subject with Lady Tenderden and the Comtesse Leinsengen, "that the marriage takes place in church."
"In church!quelle idée, vraiment on mourra de froid."
"And pray how must one be dressed?" inquired Lady Tenderden.
"Oh,en costume de traineau, I presume, since it is in von of your cold church; but vat sinifies how von dresses for it?"
"If it rains I really must send my excuse," said Lady Tilney, who wanted to be on a level at least with the Comtesse in impertinence. "Have you seen thetrousseau?" she added.
"Yes, I have," replied Lady Tenderden. Lady Tilney looked blank; she could not bear that others should precede her even in the inspection of atrousseau. Lady Tenderden, continued:—"Madame Duval brought me every thing that was worth seeing; the laces are magnificent, and thecorbeille de noces, and every thing is in good taste. But here is Lady Ellersby," exclaimed Lady Tenderden, gladto break off from a subject which had been disagreeable to her, "I do not supposeshewill approve of the programme of this ceremony."
"My dear Lady Ellersby," the ladies all exclaimed, running up to her, "why did you not exert your influence with Lady Melcomb to prevent thisbaroquefancy of being married in church; surely your relationship would have authorized your good advice on the occasion." Lady Ellersby looked surprised, and asked an explanation.
"Do you not know," answered Lady Tilney, "that the ceremony is to take place in a church?"
"La! does it? What a strange fancy!" drawled Lady Ellersby; "but I should never think of giving any advice to Lady Melcomb—I never do, to any body."
"Dat Mademoiselle Melcomb, vid all her imbecileniaiserie, seems not to have played her part amiss."
"I think she will turn out better than one could have supposed," rejoined Lady Tenderden, "when she becomesun peu plus façonné."
"Do tell me who are the invited?" interruptedLady Tilney, addressing Lady Ellersby.
"Oh, half London, to be sure; such a quantity of tiresome relations, and so much property, and family dignity, there will be no end of all the cousins—don't you know they are just the sort of people who teem with relations?"
"But who is there of the party that one knows?" replied Lady Tilney.
"Oh, there are ourselves, and the Duke of Mercington, and the Boileaus, and Baskervilles, I believe; I fancy too the Duke and Duchess D'Hermanton, and some ofthatset, are also among thepriés, but I must go nowen qualité de cousine, and leave my card with the Melcombs, and then I shall go on to Kitchener's, who has the resetting of the family diamonds. I am told they are magnificent; and I should so like to persuade Lord Ellersby to let mine be reset too, I have had them three years in their present form, and am so tired of them as they are—he, he, he!—well—adieu, we shall meet to-night at Lady De Chere's?"
"Avouez moi qu'elle passe la permission qu'oua d'être bête," observed Lady Tenderden, as she left the room.
"May be so, but she is a very old friend of mine, and besides, she is perfectlycomme il faut, and after all, that sort of thing gets on in the world just as well as talent."
"Perhaps better," rejoined Lady Tilney.
"Précisement," said the Comtesse Leinsengen, "but,il faut que je pars, je vais voir le trousseau, for oderwise I shall have nothing to say to Lady Baskerville, who goes vid me to-night to de Opera.Adieu les belles, adieu."
"I wonder how she can be at the trouble of going to see that foolishtrousseau," exclaimed Lady Tilney, as soon as she was out of hearing. "She is soinconséquente. Did Lady Ellersby name the Baskervilles as being among the invited?" continued Lady Tilney.
"Oh yes, the Comtesse, depend upon it, has taken care they shall be asked; and my Lord is always flattered in being reckoned a requisite appendage to a woman of high rank; but he will soon find his error in depending on her smiles, for except for the gratification of the moment's vanity, she seeks no further aim, and at alltimes scruples not to sacrifice herçi-devantfriends to her new ones."
"Poor Lord Baskerville," replied Lady Tilney, "was intended to be by naturele bon enfant, which she calls him; but he has fallen into the terrible mistake of thinking himself aleaderofton, which gives him a ridicule that he would not otherwise have."
"How well you read characters, my dear Lady Tilney! But I thought he was aprotégéof yours."
"Oh, so he is; I like him of all things; and he is often vastly useful. One must have different characters at command to fill different parts, or else nothing that one wants would go on. But to return to the Melcombs, I do not recover from my surprise about that marriage."
"It only shews what perseverance will do, I wished to talk the matter over with you, and to ascertain whether or not you meant to attend; so now I need not trouble you longer. Your gown you say is to be rose-colour, mine shall be jonquille."
"Ah, you always look divine in that golden light: but what light do you not look divine in?"
"I must positively run away, or you will quite turn my head with flattery. Adieu, adieu," and they parted well pleased with each other.
When Lady Ellersby stopped at Lady Melcomb's door, where she had intended only to leave her card, a multiplicity of people on the same errandfaisoit queue à la porte; but to her infinite dismay, just as her carriage drove up, Lord Glenmore, who happened to be coming out of the door, approached her with a countenance beaming happiness.
"I am sure Georgina will be at home toyou; do allow me to hand you out of your carriage."
"Not for the world, I would not intrude; I am sure Miss Melcomb has a thousand things to do, and to arrange; but—"
"Nay, dear Lady Ellersby," continued Lord Glenmore, pressingly (who thought every one must be as anxious to see his bride, as he was eager she should be seen), "Georgina will be so disappointed if you do not go up stairs, that I must entreat you will." And in short, for once, what between curiosity to look at thebridal paraphernalia, and a sort of awkwardness to do a decided thing, and say no, Lady Ellersby's indolence was overcome, and she allowed herself to be handed up stairs into the drawing room, where were assembled a host of ladies (notMiss Melcomb), who were busily engaged admiring the various dresses and finery which were displayed before them.
"You are just come in time, Lady Ellersby," exclaimed Lady Aveling, "for after to-day, nobody is to be admitted."
"No? well, la! I am glad then; but my dear Lady Melcomb I came, I assure you, expressly to wish you joy, and to leave my congratulations also with Miss Melcomb, whom I hope, I am to see, for Lord Glenmore insisted on my coming in, otherwise I would not have done so—knowing how tiresome visitors are at such a moment; but since I am here, do me the favour to mention to Miss Melcomb, how very happy I am to have the opportunity of wishing her joy."
"And do look," cried Lady Aveling, "at this enchanting hat; it is just come from Paris—was there ever any thingde meilleur gôut?—andthen look at this, and thatseduisante—really, Lady Melcomb, your selection has been exquisite. But here comes the bride."
Then ensued kisses, curtseys, and congratulations, during which Lord Glenmore retired, wearied with the nonsense of the female coterie, and despairing of even catching a glance from Miss Melcomb.
While the marriage ornaments continued to absorb the attention of the other visitors, Miss Melcomb took Lady Ellersby aside to shew her what, she said, was infinitely better worth looking at—a miniature of Lord Glenmore.
"So, my dear," said Lady Ellersby, "you are really what they call in love? he, he, he!"
"I am fondly attached to Lord Glenmore, and feel proud now in declaring it;—it has become my happy duty," replied Miss Melcomb.
"Duty!" replied Lady Ellersby, opening her mouth, andouvrant des grands yeux, "he, he, he!—surely you are not serious? Whoever heard a young person going to be married, that is, going to be her own mistress, talk of duty! Tell me, really are you not delighted at the idea of having horses and equipages, anddoing exactly what you like, and going out every where you please? That was what I liked and thought of, when I was going to be married, and——but then I was not in love—he, he, he!"
"No?" replied Miss Melcomb, somewhat astonished.
"Certainly not—he, he, he!"
"I have no wish," rejoined Miss Melcomb, "to be more my own mistress than I am at present. I shall, on the contrary, feel myself less at liberty, for of course a married woman has a thousand things to think of which a girl has not."
"La, my dear, you talk in a way which it is very right to teach children, but when people act for themselves they think very differently. Every body, you know, marries to avoid being governed."
"I never could have married for that reason, for I have been the happiest of creatures at home."
"Well really, la! you don't say so! But now you will have an opera box, jewels, equipages, and all sorts of delightful things."
"I don't know—perhaps if Lord Glenmore intends I should—"
"La, how droll you are; you don't really mean to set out by asking his leave, or consulting him on such trifling subjects as these, my dear child, he, he, he! you are enough to spoil any husband.—Well, good morning—you must correct yourself of suchenfantillage—remember what I say. Six months will not have elapsed before you recant all this, and change your present mode of thinking and feeling."
Miss Melcomb smiled, and shook her head in token of dissent. "Good morning," Lady Ellersby repeated, "I have already intruded too much upon your time; I shall be delighted to cultivate your society when you come back a gay bride; and pray tell Lady Melcomb I will not torment her any more just now.—Once again accept my congratulations, and my best compliments to Lord Melcomb, he, he, he!"
It is a strange thing that in the happiest of times there is often a word spoken, or a thing occurs, which seems to interpose a dark spotupon the brightness of happiness, as though we were not to forget the nature of mortal felicity. Lady Ellersby's words, of six months will not elapse ere you have changed your present feelings—sounded in Miss Melcomb's ears long after they had been spoken; and though she strove to drive them from her remembrance, they remained fixed there like a warning which she was not to disregard—a foreboding of evil (for to the happy all change has terror in it). Minor circumstances such as this, have happened to every body in their course through life, and have been like visions which opened a vista to futurity.
The day at length came which was to unite Miss Melcomb with Lord Glenmore, and the various persons invited met at Lord Melcomb's house, from whence their carriages followed in the suite of that of the bride's. The ceremony took place in St. James's Chapel, and it was a beautiful sight to see the bride, with composed bashfulness, in the long white robe and coronal that bound her veiled brows, so fitly emblematic of her own purity, supported by her father to the altar, and given from the paternalarms into those of a husband, who was henceforth to be all the world to her, and whom she acknowledged to be lord of her affections in the seriousness of true and deep attachment, as the chosen of her heart. Her velvet prayer book in one hand—the other folding her veil across her person, which it but partially concealed, she knelt down in that spirit of piety which hallows and sanctifies the vows she was about to take. The previous tremor which had shook her frame as she advanced to the altar, was stilled into composure as she bent the knee, and raised her thoughts to heaven.
Lord Glenmore, too, seemed imbued with the same devout feelings, and all those who came with lighter thoughts, appeared, outwardly at least, impressed.
When the ceremony closed, the now Lady Glenmore knelt before her parents, and as they pressed her to their breast, blessed her with silent fervour; and even the most insensible acknowledged a touch of feeling at this scene. Lady De Chere was heard to say, that she had no idea it would be made such a serious affair of; had she known it, she certainly would not havebeen present. Congratulations having been offered on every side, some with sincere goodwill, but the greater part with common-place phrase; the marriage party returned to Lady Melcomb's, where a breakfast had been prepared.
"What amélangeof persons!" observed Lady Ellersby, as she stopped in the door-way on entering, in order to reconnoitre. "If I had not been obliged" (she whispered to Lady Tilney), "nothing should have brought me here."
"AndImost indubitably should not have come," replied the latter, "had it not been tooblige you; and after all I would have given a great deal that Ihad not: for I assure you, my dear, as soon as the affair of the day is over, we must none of us be seen here again; what we may do respecting Lord and Lady Glenmore,reste a savoir. But yonder is Lady Baskerville and Lady Tenderden, let us join them, and by keeping as much as possible together, and talking to no one but in our own circle, shew that we are not here even at present onfamiliar footing." Lady Baskerville was conversing with Lady Tenderden on one of those square Ottomansdos-a-dos, with their several cavaliers by them, Lord Tonnerre, Lord Gascoigne, Lord Boileau, &c.
"Well I am sure," said Lady Baskerville, addressing Lord Boileau, "if I were Lady Glenmore, I should heartily wish all thisétiquette de noceswas over; when a marriage has taken place, and it is known to all the world, the amusement is ended, and there is nothing to be wished for, but the comfortable arrangement of two sensible persons, who know what it is to live without beinga chargeto each other."
"To be sure," replied Lord Boileau, "I wonder how people can make this sort of fuss andétalage; it is assuming that one is interested for them—nobody cares whether any body is happy or miserable, and it is a bad taste toaffichétheir private feelings in this public manner."
At this moment a general movement in one of the apartments attracted every body's attention.—"Lord Melcomb is dead!" "LordMelcomb is dying!" resounded in audible whispers.
"Call my carriage."—"How shocking."—"I would not be in the room with a corpse for the world."—"Do let us get away."
"Who knows but it may be catching—how fortunate for Glenmore," said Lord Boileau, looking over the people's heads, as he beheld Lord Melcomb apparently lifeless. "He will have the pretty heiress and her fortune at the same moment."
"What do you mean?" asked some one who stood near.
"Why, only if the old Lord dies, that Miss Melcomb becomes immediate mistress of Melcomb Park, and an estate of ten thousand a year."
"Does she! you do not mean so; had I known that, I would have proposed to the girl myself," said Lord Tonnerre.
"But is he really in an apoplectic fit?" said another.
"Perhaps, but sometimes people do outlive these sort of things, and walk about quite gaily many years."
"Ah! there is that chance to be sure," said Lady Baskerville, laughing. It is lamentable to remark, how those who live in fashion's fooleries become actually indifferent to every thing, and to every circumstance, of what mighty moment soever, that does not immediately concern their interests and pleasures. The most tremendous events, the most awful dispensations, the most surprising occurrences are to them so many little coloured bubbles, that seem to blow about for their amusement, or targets set up to shoot jokes at. Life and death seem but as foot-balls for these puppets to play with: it would be laughable if it were not horrible.
Lord Melcomb had only a fainting fit, occasioned by over fatigue, and the heat of the room. The brilliant crowd, however, which were assembled at his house, fled in dismay on the first alarm of sickness or of sorrow; and their inquiries the next day for his health, were influenced more by curiosity, than by any feeling of humanity, or any real care whether he were alive or dead. This event, however, had a very different effect on the minds of LordMelcomb's sincere friends, who waited with anxiety to learn the effects of this sudden illness. On Lady Glenmore's mind it cast a cloud, which seemed to overshadow the bright dawning of her happiness; and she trembled at the idea of some unknown calamity, an idea which had once before visited her, when called up by Lady Ellersby's words, and which now again recurred to her with painful intenseness. A short hour, however, relieved every one from anxiety; Lord Melcomb was completely restored, and he received the embraces of his child: when kissing away the tears, which she could not restrain, he entreated her to lay aside all fears on his account. Once more the bridal pair received the parental blessing; and taking leave of the few dear friends that surrounded them, stepped into their carriage and set off for Lord Glenmore's villa, where after remaining a short time, and feeling quite reassured on Lord Melcomb's account, they proceeded on a tour to Paris.
Theseason was approaching when, in good old times, the heads of great families left the metropolis, and in the retirement of their country seats or villas devoted the precious hours of the solemn festival of Easter to reflection, apart from busy scenes of public life in the bosoms of their families—thus setting an example worthy of imitation: and overcoming, in some degree, the difficulty with which we know a rich man shall enter the Kingdom of Heaven.
How widely different is it at the present day with those who call themselvesThe Ton. They go indeed, at this holy season, to villas, and country seats, but take with them there all the follies, and vices, and habits of that daily idleness and dissipation which can suffer no pause in its riot, no diminution in its intoxication.
Lady Ellersby had invited to Restormel Lady Tilney and the more select of her coterie. Some there were, the subalterns of theircorps élite, who, however subservient and ready they had proved themselves to adopt the follies of exclusiveness, had as yet failed in establishing themselves in its full rights and prerogatives, and who, after the sacrifice of their own true dignity, still found themselves but as tools in the hands of others. These, often overlooked in the morerecherchéamusements,heardof the party at Restormel, but onlyheard, and were not among the invited. To be excluded on such an occasion was a mortification of the severest kind, and it became a matter of the greatest importance to have their names inserted, if possible, on the select list. To obtain this point, the infinite pains and ingenuity employed were worthy of a better cause. The Baskervilles were of the number overlooked; and, addressing his wife on the subject with as much eagerness as it was permitted one of his dignified refinement to display, Lord Baskerville said:
"Imagine what Boileau has just told me;Lady Ellersby has a party at Restormel next week! I do thinkwehad a right to be asked; don't you?"
"Oh certainly,love," replied Lady Baskerville, a sweet-sounding epithet of affection which but on few occasions passed between them: "Certainly: and if we are not, I shall think it quite rude; butI willarrange the matter."
That night Lady Baskerville went to the Opera with Lady Boileau; as soon as an opportunity presented itself, Lady Baskerville turned suddenly round, and said, "Oh, there is Lady Ellersby, I see, in her box: how well she looks—ofcourse youare going to Restormel at Easter?" and she kissed her hand the while, in her most smiling manner, to the lady of whom she spoke.
"No, I am not invited," replied Lady Boileau. "Are you?"
"Yes," rejoined Lady Baskerville, (determined to hazard the lie at all events, and trust to chance, or her own devices, to make it true afterwards.) "But how very odd she should have left you out; it must be some mistake."
"Oh, no, it is not a mistake—it cannot be; for Lady Ellersby, you know, makes all her invitations on these occasionsde vive voix." Lady Baskerville almost betrayed herself as shefeltLady Boileau's penetrating eyes fixed upon her's, with a scrutiny she did not wish to prolong; however she rallied dexterously, and turned off the discourse into some other channel; but Lady Boileau returned to the charge, saying:
"Well, my dear Lady Baskerville, asyou areasked, do you not think you could get us invited also? You know I hardly ever break my rule of running the risk of compromising a friend by tormenting her to procure invitations, but for this once I think I may venture, considering our long friendship, to entrust you with the secret (for you know I would not have it said for the world), that I wish to be of the number of thePriéesto Restormel—now as I intend giving my first ball immediately after Easter, I shall consult her to-night about certain persons whom I am rather doubtful whether I shall ask or not, and then byappealing to you, throw the conversation into your hands, and give you an opportunity of naming those who are invited to Restormel, which will bring about the subject in such a natural way, that either I must be asked or she will commit herself by a rudeness which she generally avoids."
Lady Baskerville sat on thorns, but during the length of this speech she had leisure to collect her scattered senses, and began a reply equally elaborate, professing herself to be exceedingly attached and obliged to Lady Boileau, and forthat very reasondeclining all interference on the present occasion—"for you know," she said, "it makes one so verynervousto put a friend under the unpleasant predicament of being refused. Besides, the moment one lets the world know that one has a friend who wants any thing, people begin immediately to conclude that they may want many things, and directly look shy, and make an excuse, and get off, and probably cut both theaskerand the person for whom they ask. Howeveryou knowI will do whatI can do, but only I entreat you will leaveme at liberty to chuse the mode of managing this business."
"Yes," rejoined Lady Boileau, "most certainly; but perhaps the best way of all will be to say nothing about it, beforehand, and then for me to arrive unexpectedly, and sayyouhad asked me, and had forgotten to mention to Lady Ellersby that you had done so."
"Oh!not for the world, my dearest Lady Boileau, not for the world,—besides,—I just recollect—Lord Baskerville had some idea we should not go at all;"—at that instant arrives Lord Baskerville himself, and forgetting his acquired manner, he opened the box-door somewhat abruptly, and in his natural gay agreeable way, such as is his own when he ceases to remember he is an exclusive, he said, addressing Lady Baskerville,
"I have this instant had an invitation for you, which I am sure you will accept with pleasure: it is from Lady Ellersby to go to Restormel."
"Dear! la! Lord Baskerville, how odd you are—that is so like you—to have forgot—and Lady Ellersby too, she must have forgotten,don't you knowwe wereasked a fortnight ago."
"Ah—hem! very true," and taking the hint which Lady Baskerville had given him by an expressive glance, "hem! Ihadreally forgotten, I always forgetthose sort of things, hem!"
"Yes, and you said then,if youremember, thatyouwould not go, for that you thought of visiting Tunbridge, as you always conceived Restormel to be a dull, damp place, and so unwholesome, with its quantity of trees and stagnant water."
"Ay—so I did,—hem! very true, and so it is, and now you put me in mind, I rather supposewe, that isI, shall not go, for of courseyourladyship will do as you chuse."
Lady Boileau, though young in years, was too old a bird of fashion to be caught with chaff, she saw through this matrimonial manœuvre, but was too prudent to let her perception be seen; and in regard to Lady Baskerville's refusal on the subject of Restormel, she pretended to take it as the latter intended it should be taken, and her outward appearanceremained unruffled, but at the same time it was marked in the tablets of her memory, as a token of friendshipnot to be forgotten.
"Indeed," replied Lady Boileau, in answer to Lord Baskerville's last remark, "you are both quite right, Restormelisadullplace, and I advise you to secure a party for Tunbridge, in which I shall be most happy to join you."
"I will think about it, hem!" replied Lord Baskerville, "and consult the Comtesse Leinsengen," and thus he bowed out of the box. Shortly after, Lady Baskerville feigned a very bad head-ache and retired before the end of the ballet. Not so Lady Boileau; she watched Lady Ellersby's movements, and contrived to meet her in the room just at the very moment when the crowd prevented her escaping.
"What do you think I have been doing all night?" Lady Boileau asked?
"Not listening to the Opera," replied Mr. Spencer Newcomb, who was handing Lady Ellersby.
"As if any body ever really came to attend to or listen to it!" she observed; "it is the very last thing one comes to the Opera for," yawning.
"I have been much better employed," rejoined Lady Boileau, "for I have been defending theagrémensof Restormel against Lord and Lady Baskerville's assertion of its being the dullest place in the world; they both declared it always gave them the vapours."
"So it does me," replied Lady Ellersby, again yawning, "and that is precisely the reason why I take such special care never to go there, without having it well filled. But then all places in the country are alike, and onemustgo out of town at Easter."
"Well, Lady Ellersby, that may be true enough: all country places are insufferably dull except it be to give a fête during the lilac and laburnum season; but I think your friends might make some distinction betweenyouand yourplace, and as far as I could observe there was none made by the Baskervilles."
"Oh was therenot, he, he! Oh if suchisthe case I am sorry I asked them to-night."
"To-night! did you not make Lady Baskerville the invitation long before to-night? you will pardon my asking the question; Ihave a particular reason, which I will explain to you hereafter, for doing so."
"La, dear, no," yawning, "I never thought of asking any bodylong ago." This, though in contradiction to her former declaration of taking care tosecurea party, she was obliged to say in order to avoid a marked rudeness to Lady Boileau, "and," she continued, "now I have the good fortune to meet you, dear Lady Boileau, will you and Lord Boileau have the charity to join us; and, notwithstanding Lady Baskerville's terrific account of Restormel, venture to come andegayerits melancholy bowers; at all events it will be better than remaining in town, and we will try to do what we can to render ourselves agreeable to you."
"I shall be delighted; we shall have the greatest pleasure in waiting upon you, and am certain we shall be extremely well amused."
The great object of Lady Boileau's day was now successfully attained, and doubtless she laid her head upon her pillow that night with all the satisfaction which such success ought to confer. Lady Baskerville, on her part rejoicedin having as she thought so completely outmanœuvred her friend, and enjoyed the triumph which her superior skill in the management of such matters, as well as her superior knowledge ofthe world, had afforded her. Yet these women called each otherfriends! How is that sacred name profaned, that name which can have no embodied existence, but with the sincere and good, yet which is polluted in the world's mouth at every instant.
Restormel was, as it had been described by Lady Baskerville, an exceedingly gloomy place, but all within the house was luxury; beyond its walls, however, there were none of those moral circumstances which can give interest even to the dullest spot. The scenery was monotonous and insipid; but there might have been an enlivening character thrown over the gloom, in the happy countenances and cheerful looks of dependents and retainers, if such had been the will of the possessors of Restormel. But this was not the case, the cold calculating system of employment of the poor, merely when the purpose of keeping up the grounds or otherimprovements made it necessary, and then taking no further charge whatever of the beings so employed, regarding them only as the labourers of the hour, conspired to give the place a moral, as well as a natural gloom.
No peasant's abode in these domains was ever cheered by Lady Ellersby's presence; no sufferer in sickness or distress alleviated beyond the donation of money, and that but seldom;—none of those heart-interests in short were ever evinced, on her, or her Lord's part, which confer a mutual delight on those who receive, and on those who bestow them, and which maintain that link between the higher and lower classes, which is at once so beautiful and so beneficial, and without which all the luxuries in the world will never produce any thing but a melancholy and unsatisfying grandeur.
There certainly, however, were the means, if they had been resorted to, for every laudable gratification of interest and entertainment at Restormel. And where is the country place in which, if its possessor fulfil the various duties the possession entails on him,the means are wanting; and even as it was, if that sickly appetite for excitement which characterised its present inhabitants could ever have been satisfied, it must have been here, where every thing connected with their system of life was found in profusion; but the factitious smiles which gild the exterior of such a circle as was generally to be met with at Restormel is not the sunshine of real happiness.
Easter was now arrived and the party assembled at Restormel, consisted of the Tilneys, the Tenderdens, the Baskervilles, the Leinsengens, Luttermannes, Lord Tonnerre, Lady Hamlet Vernon, Lord Albert D'Esterre (who was askedon trial), Lord and Lady Boileau, by the manœuvre which has been described, and one or two single men like Mr. Leslie Winyard, Mr. Spencer Newcomb, &c. &c.
These persons all met on the first night of their arrival at an eight o'clock dinner. Lord Albert D'Esterre had been invited at Lady Tilney's suggestion, who considered a country house a good stage for the display of a newdebutant, and as affording no unpropitious opportunity of forwarding her wishes in regard to Lord Albert's political bias. These wishes, however, were soon doomed to disappointment; Lord Albert had accepted the invitation under the impression that in the country there was more leisure and tranquillity than the hurry of a London life allowed; but whether in the country or town, he might have known, had not the fatal mist of delusion which comes over all who enter on a tortuous path began to blind him, that reflection and serenity of mind do not depend on time or place; that power, that calm, may be destroyed or may be nurtured in cities, as in lonely wilds, it is true; but had he thought for a moment, he would have felt that the gay assemblage in which he was to mix at Restormel, was not calculated to restore him to that state of mind which he believed himself anxious to regain.
In the course of Lord Albert D'Esterre's acquaintance with Lady Hamlet Vernon, he had discovered much to charm, to dazzle, and to lead a mind so young as his into a maze of error. Sophistry had gradually drawn itsveil before his perception of truth; through this he viewed her character; and under the same delusive influence, he persuaded himself that the interest he took in her arose from the purest motive, namely that of endeavouring to free from error, one whose nature was naturally endowed with capabilities for becoming truly estimable. He listened to all her dangerous and seductive opinions, while he gazed on her beauty, bewildered with the false conviction that he did so to prove to her the error of the one, and to point out the peril which, with such unfixed tenets, the other would most probably lead her into.
What a melancholy prospect, he inwardly exclaimed, lies before that beautiful creature, whose principles have never been formed to virtue, and who has been cast among those whose every axiom is contrary to the laws of purity and truth! What delight in the reflection, what a good action it will be, to disentangle such a being from the snares that surround her, and restore her to a life of usefulness and happiness. My heart aches for her, when I think how in early youth, beforeshe could know her own wishes, she was married to an unprincipled husband, one who could never have known her worth; she must not be abandoned without an effort to save her. Thus did Lord Albert parley with himself, till a dangerous admixture of evil glided in with his better feelings, and prevented that clear perception between right and wrong, which under his engagements should have made him at once fly from Lady Hamlet Vernon. It wasnotso, however, and Lady Hamlet Vernon was more the object that led him to Restormel, than any wish for, or sense of, the necessity of retirement and reflection.
The mode of living at Restormel was what Spencer Newcomb wittily called theforeign system, that is, every pleasure-giving circumstance was throughout the daily routine cultivated to the utmost point which art could reach. To give an account of it in detail would be a work of supererogation; for it was a transfer of London to the country, only with this difference, that the post town and high road took place of the streets of the metropolis; and the shrubberies and gardens of Restormel, of thoseof Kensington and the Park; with the exception, too, of a rather animated discussion between Lady Tilney and Lord Tonnerre on the subject of female influence; and which brought the parties into closer collision, than was consistent with the outward harmony of exclusiveton.
Little occurred during the first few days of the retreat to Restormel to vary the monotony of the scene. With reference to this latter subject, Lady Tilney remarked to Lady Baskerville, as they left the dining-room, on the evening when the affair alluded to had taken place, "I am very sorry, my dear Lady Baskerville, very sorry indeed, that what I said should have taken such a desperate effect on your friend Lord Tonnerre; however, it does every body good to hear the truth now and then, and as he seldom if ever hears it, I think I have done him service in sounding that tocsin in his ears for once in his life, don't you, my dear?"
"He, he, he!" tittered Lady Baskerville, who did not like to offend the speaker, though she was really angry with her in her heart;"I dare say you are quite right—but for my part, I never wish to teach any body any thing; I was so tired of being taught myself, that whatever reminds me of the dull days of being a good girl, and having a governess, quite overcomes me."
"Oh," observed the Comtesse Leinsengen, "what sinnify, whether dat Lord is in a passion or not, nothing will ever change him. He knows but two phrases in the dictionary,I willandI won't, youshalland youshan't, and he do tink himself, and all dat belong to himself, quite perfect,c'est une ignorance crasse a tout prendre, but whatsinnifyit? He was alway Milor Tonnerre, heisMilor Tonnerre, he will alwaybeMilor Tonnerre;laisser le grogner, c'est son métier; en qualité de Tonnerre il grognera toujours, quesque ça nous fait? il n'est pas notre mari laisse-le là de grâces," and she looked at Lady Baskerville as she spoke.
This affair, however, did not pass over quite so easily as Lady Tilney would have had it; and it ended in Lord Tonnerre's going suddenlyto town; and Lady Baskerville remaining in exceedingly bad humour: for to be without anattaché quelconquewas as bad as to be without a hat from Herbot's.
Ina continued scene of frivolity, to call it by no harsher name, and in the turmoil of petty passions and jarring female interests, passed the hours at Restormel that led on to the most solemn period of the year. Amongst the actors in it, Lord Albert D'Esterre cannot (with the feelings and character which he still possessed) be supposed to have held a part at all consistent with his true wishes; and, but for the increasing and alarming fascination of his senses, and the warping of his better judgment, by the influence which Lady Hamlet Vernon still, day by day, more effectually exercised over him, he would have quitted a society altogether, of which he could never really form a component part, andfromwhich, but for the third power which held him in combination with it, he must have quickly separated himself.
But, however much this fatal influence might affect the general line of his conduct, the good seeds sown in early life, though sadly choaked as they had been, were not yet totally eradicated; and on the morning of the Easter festival, he took his way to the village to obey the calling bell of church. The service had begun when he entered, and it was not till the first lesson was commenced that he lifted his eyes from the book, and beheld in the family pew opposite Lady Hamlet Vernon. A flush of various feelings coloured his cheek, and suffused with a richer glow even the whiteness of his forehead. She is then, he thought, in despite of the example around her, really good;—she has listened to my advice; she has come to the fountain-head for instruction—all is well! He then endeavoured to follow the service throughout its solemn beauty; but his mind was disturbed, and his thoughts wandered.
When the congregation was dismissed, of course he bowed and approached Lady Hamlet Vernon with the greetings of the morning salutations, and offering her his arm, theywalked slowly on into the church-yard; it was one of those quiet gray days, which belong neither to winter nor spring, but owned affinity with both, and there was a freshness in the odour of the new trodden grass, which might have been deemed the precursor of flowers, had not a frosty air chilled the sweet promise;—some fine old yews surrounded the church-yard, and the gay colours of the country peoples' ribbons and cloaks appeared in brilliant relief as they lingered beneath the dark boughs.
The rustic curtsey, and abrupt inclination of respect, which were offered in homage to Lord D'Esterre and Lady Hamlet Vernon on either side, as they passed through the village throng, indicated that the actions of those in the higher ranks of life can never be disregarded by the lower; a kind of deep respect, and an apparent satisfaction, sat on the countenances of these good people, and they showed by their very looks and manner, that they felt the hallowing of the sabbath to be a link of sympathy existing between them andtheir superiors, which mutually allied them in the bonds of christian fellowship.
These are feelings which, even in the uneducated, are still indigenous to the human heart, and, if cherished and preserved, become as productive of good as, when neglected or contemned, they tend to incalculable evil. As Lord Albert and Lady Hamlet Vernon passed along, the latter observed:
"I love to linger here; these rude memorials of love and respect to the dead" (pointing to the graves at their feet) "are a mournful gratification to the living; they tell us that in our turn we may at least hope to remain some short time in the memories of those whom we quit; but after all,tout passe," and she sighed heavily;—"yes,hereundoubtedly all that the proudest trophies can do, is for a time to point the moral of a good or bad character by the stone that covers or decorates the tomb."
"But the tomb, dear Lady Hamlet, is only the repository of the dust; it will itself become like the dust it covers; but never, like that awakened dust, be infused with new life, a life far more glorious than all that we can forman idea of; and we must look notupon, notinthe grave, but beyond it, where death is swallowed up in victory."
"Youcan do this, and you are happy," she replied. A cold revulsion struck on Lord Albert's heart as she paused and breathed with labouring breath,—"and canyounot do so?" he asked in deep low tone and shuddered as he spoke. She shook her head; and after a moment's pause said, "all the happiness I know is confined to a few brief moments—a few electric gleams of pleasure, which vanish in their birth; a feverish uncertain and fearful catching at delight, which yet eludes my grasp. These are all the means which I possess to obtain happiness; yet, such as they are, and such as my success in them is, I would not exchange them for yours—what! exchange your cold, leaden, measuredtheories of feelings, for they are nothing more—or the beating pulse of spontaneous joy, which even in this moment of our communing is mine; no, Lord Albert, no—meanly as I think of myself when measured by your standard in the general tenour of our existence, and in thescale of being, there are moments when I soar above all that was ever dreamt of in your philosophy,"—and as she spoke her eyes danced in a deceptive brilliancy that for the moment turned Lord Albert's brain. He shuddered as he felt the pressure of her arm on his while she uttered these words, and his uncertain footsteps slid upon the base of a marble tomb.
In the action of recovering himself, a kind of change seemed to pass through his frame; so much are we influenced by trivial circumstances, which yet are surely not the agents of chance; in so doing his eyes rested on an inscription engraven on the stone, and as if glad to escape from answering her, he read the following lines: