The Greatest Regency Romance Novels. Maria EdgeworthЧитать онлайн книгу.
for him by name, he came immediately to know her commands.—'You have the picture here of Mr. Trueworth,' said she; 'pray, is it ready?'—'Yes, Madam,' answered he, 'I am just going to carry it home.'—'I am glad, then, Sir,' resumed Miss Betsy, 'that I am come time enough to save you that trouble: Mr. Trueworth went to Hampstead last night; and being to follow him this morning, he desired I would bring it with me, and pay you the money.'—'O, Madam, as to the money,' said he, 'I shall see Mr. Trueworth again!' and then called to the man to bring down his picture.—'Indeed I shall not take it without paying you,' said she; 'but, in the hurry, I forgot to ask him the sum—pray, how much is it?'—'My constant price, Madam,' replied he, 'is ten guineas, and the gentleman never offered to beat me down.'
By this time the man had brought the picture down in a little box, which the painter opening, as he presented it to her, cried, 'Is it not a prodigious likeness, Madam?'—'Yes, really, Sir,' said she, 'in my opinion there is no fault to be found.'—She then put the picture into her pocket, counted ten guineas to him out of her purse, and told him, with a smile, that she believed he would very shortly have more business from the same quarter—then bid the coachman drive on.
The coachman having previous orders what to do, was no sooner out of sight of the painter's house, then he turned down the first street, and carried Miss Betsy home: she discharged her retinue, undressed herself with all the speed she could; and whoever had now seen her, would never have suspected she had been abroad.
This young lady was not of a temper to grieve long for any thing: how deep soever she was affected, the impression wore off on the first new turn that offered itself. All her remorse, all her vexation, for the base design laid against her at Mrs. Modely's, were dissipated the moment she took it into her head to get possession of this picture; and the success of her enterprize elated her beyond expression.
It cannot be supposed; that it was altogether owing to the regard she had for Mr. Trueworth, though in effect much more than she herself was yet sensible of, that she took all these pains; it looks as if there was also some little mixture of female malice in the case. Her brother had said that the picture seemed to be intended to be worn at a lady's watch—she doubted not but it was so; and the thoughts of disappointing her rival's expectations contributed greatly to the satisfaction she felt at what she had done.
CHAPTER XIX
Presents the reader with some occurrences which, from the foregoing preparations, might be expected, and also with others that may seem more surprizing
Miss Betsy was not deceived in her conjecture in relation to the picture being designed as an offering to some lady: Mr. Trueworth had not, indeed, sat for it to please himself, but to oblige Miss Harriot, who had given some hints that such a present would not be unwelcome to her.
It is a common thing with painters to keep the pieces in their own hands as long as they can, after they are finished, especially if they are of persons endued by nature with any perfections which may do honour to their art: this gentleman was like others of his profession; he found it to his credit to shew frequently Mr. Trueworth's picture to as many as came to look over his paintings, and had detained it for several days beyond the time in which he had promised to send it, on pretence that there were still some little touches wanting on the drapery.
Mr. Trueworth growing a little impatient at the delay, as Miss Harriot had asked two or three times, in a gay manner, when she should see his resemblance, went himself in order to fetch it away: the painter was surprized at the sight of him, and much more so when he demanded the picture. He told him, however, the whole truth without hesitation, that he delivered it to a lady not above an hour before he came, who paid him the money for it, and said that she had called for it on his request.
Nothing had ever happened that seemed more strange to him; he made a particular enquiry concerning the face, age, complexion, shape, stature, and even dress of the lady, who had put this trick upon him: and it was well for Miss Betsy, that she had taken all the precautions she did, or she had infallibly been discovered; a thing which, perhaps, would have given her a more lasting confusion, than even her late unlucky adventure with the mock baronet.
She was, however, among all the ladies of his acquaintance, almost the only one who never came into his head on this occasion: sometimes he thought of one, sometimes he thought of another; but on recollecting all the particulars of their behaviour towards him, could find no reason to ascribe what had been done to any of them. Miss Flora was the only person he could imagine capable of such a thing; he found it highly probable, that her love and invention had furnished her with the means of committing this innocent fraud; and though he was heartily vexed that he must be at the trouble of sitting for another picture, yet he could not be angry with the woman who had occasioned it: on the contrary, he thought there was something so tender, and so delicate withal, in this proof of her passion, that it very much enhanced the pity and good-will he before had for her.
But while his generous heart was entertaining these too favourable and kind sentiments of her, she was employing her whole wicked wit to make him appear the basest of mankind, and also to render him the most unhappy.
She had found out every thing she wanted to know concerning Mr. Trueworth's courtship to Miss Harriot; and flattered herself, that a lady bred in the country, and unacquainted with the artifices frequently practised in town, to blacken the fairest characters, would easily be frightened into a belief of any thing she attempted to inspire her with.
In the vile hope, therefore, of accomplishing so detestable a project, she contrived a letter in the following terms.
'To Miss Harriot Loveit.
Madam,
Where innocence is about to suffer merely through it's incapacity of suspecting that ill in another it cannot be guilty of itself, common honesty forbids a stander-by to be silent. You are on the brink of a precipice which, if you fall into, it is not in the power of human art to save you. Death only can remove you from misery, remorse, distraction, and woes without a name! Trueworth, that sly deceiver of your sex, and most abandoned of his own, can only bring you a polluted heart and prostituted vows! He made the most honourable professions of love to a young lady of family and character—gained her affections—I hope no more: but, whatever was between them, he basely quitted her, to mourn her ill-placed love and ruined fame. Yet this, Madam, is but his least of crimes: he has since practised his betraying arts on another, superior to the former in every female virtue and accomplishments—second to none in beauty, and of a reputation spotless as the sun, till an unhappy passion for that worst of men obscured it's brightness, at least in the eyes of the censorious. He is, however, bound to her by the most solemn engagements that words can form, under his own hand-writing; which, if she does not in due time produce against him, it will be owing only to her too great modesty. These two, Madam, are the most conspicuous victims of his perfidy. Pray Heaven you may not close the sad triumvirate, and that I may never see such beauty and such goodness stand among the foremost in the rank of those many wretches he has made!
In short, Madam, he has deceived your friends, and betrayed you into a mistaken opinion of his honour and sincerity. If he marries you, you cannot but be miserable, he being the right of another: if he does not marry you, your reputation suffers. Happy is it for you, if the loss of reputation is all you will have to regret! He already boasts of having received favours from you; which, whoever looks in your face, will find it very difficult to think you capable of granting: but yet, who knows what strange effects too great a share of tenderness in the composition may not have produced!
Fly, then, Madam, from this destructive town, and the worst monster in it, Trueworth! Retire in time to those peaceful shades from whence you came; and save what yet remains of you worthy your attention to preserve!
Whatever reports to your prejudice the vanity of your injurious deceiver may have made him give out among his loose companions, I still hope your virtue has hitherto protected you, and that this warning will not come too late to keep you from ever verifying them.
Be assured,