The Greatest Regency Romance Novels. Maria EdgeworthЧитать онлайн книгу.
did not say a word of what I had seen when I came home, till just now John came down and told us all how that wicked woman had affronted you.'
Mrs. Munden then recalled that Mr. Munden's man was in the room when she related the behaviour of Mademoiselle de Roquelair; which she now was not sorry for, nor of the fresh proof given her by this maid of the perfidy of her husband.
'Well, Jenny,' said she, 'I am not yet determined how I shall proceed; I am going to my brother's, and shall take Tom with me: if I do not come back to-night, he shall bring you instructions what things to send me; but, in the mean time, say nothing to your master of what we have been talking.'
Mrs. Munden could not forbear shedding tears, as she was going into her chair, at the thoughts of this exile, voluntary as it was, from a house she had so much right to call her own; but the poor maid roared out so loud at seeing her depart, that it brought all the servants out of the kitchen to know what was the matter; which, being told by Jenny, occasioned so general a grief among them for the loss of so good a mistress, that had Mademoiselle de Roquelair remained in the house, and the same servants also been continued, it is possible she would have had little either of respect or obedience from them.
But fortune spared this mortification, in order to inflict a much greater one on her ingratitude and treachery. Mr. Munden had not quitted the presence of his wife many minutes before he began to reflect seriously on this accident; he found it might prove a very vexatious one, if the consequences it seemed to threaten were not in time prevented: he highly blamed Mademoiselle de Roquelair for her behaviour to Mrs. Munden; not so much because it might give that lady room to suspect in what manner he had wronged her, as because it plainly shewed that the other intended to pin herself on him, and oblige him to support her—a thing which did not at all suit with his humour; he had gratified his passion almost to a surfeit—a very little longer time would have made him as heartily wish to get rid of her, as he had ever done to gain her; and although it could not be said he was as yet altogether cloyed with the pleasures she so lavishly bestowed, yet a little examination into the extent of his inclinations, convinced him that he could bear the loss of her for ever without pain.
While the blood runs high, and the fire is rampant for possession, prudence is of little force; but when the one begins to flag, the other resumes its empire over the mind, and never rests till it finds means to retrieve what it has lost: he could now consider that the money remitted to Bologne by Mr. Thoughtless could be received by nobody but Mademoiselle de Roquelair herself, and that it was probable that gentleman, if told the usage that had been given to his sister, might be provoked to recal his order, and prevent the payment of it at all. This seemed, however, a plausible pretence for persuading her to go away directly, and also for making a merit to his wife of what he did.
Having fully determined within himself how to proceed in this affair, he shortened his morning's walk, and came home some hours before the usual time: he was at first a little fretted on being told Mrs. Munden was gone to her brother's, not doubting but the errand on which she went was to complain of the treatment she had received; but Jenny carefully concealing what her mistress had said to her concerning her intentions of coming back no more, he passed it lightly over, imagining her accusations and reproaches would cease, the object of them being once removed.
He found no difficulty in prevailing on Mademoiselle de Roquelair to go to Bologne. Three hundred louis-d'ors was too tempting a sum to be forfeited merely for the want of a little jaunt, especially as she considered that she might accomplish her business there and return to London within the compass of a very few days; and he told her that he would hire lodgings for her against her coming back.
'Well, then, my angel,' said he, 'no time is to be lost: as this is not post day, if you set out immediately for Dover, you may be at Bologne, and have received the money before any letter can reach that place to prevent it; for it is very likely that the spite my wife has towards you, may work upon the resentment of her brother to attempt such a thing.' Everything being concluded upon for this expedition, he went himself to procure a post-chaise, appointing her to meet him at a place he mentioned to her in an hour at farthest.
As he had promised to send all her baggage to the lodgings which he should provide for her return, she had nothing to do but to pack up some few necessaries to take with her. This little work being soon over, a hackney-coach carried her to the house that had been agreed upon; where she saw a post-chaise already at the door, and the diligent Mr. Munden waiting for her coming: as she proposed to reach Canterbury that same night, and it was then past two o'clock, the lovers were obliged to take a very hasty leave.
This double, deceitful man, having a farther view in what he did than she had any notion of, told her, at parting, that it would be proper for her to stay at Bologne till she received a letter from him with an account in what street and part of the town the lodgings he should provide for her were situated, to the end she might come directly into them on her arrival: he spoke this with an air so full of tenderness and care for her repose, that she had not the least suspicion of his drift; and replied, that she would not fail to do as he advised, but desired he would be as speedy as possible in writing to her; 'For,' cried she, embracing him, 'I shall think every day a year till I return to the arms of my dear Munden!'
Having thus, in reality, discarded, his mistress, though without her knowing he had done so, he went home, in order to boast to his wife of the complaisance he had shewn to her in this affair; but, finding she was not yet come back, he called for her maid, and bid her tell her, the moment she should return, that he had complied with her request, and made the Frenchwoman go out of the house.
After having said this, he went out again, and came not home till late at night; when he was confounded beyond measure on finding a letter from Mrs. Munden, which had been left for him by her own footman in the beginning of the evening; and contained these lines.
'To Mr. Munden.
Sir,
As you cannot but be sensible that the mutual engagements between us have been strictly adhered to on my part, and almost in every particular falsified on yours, you ought not to be surprized that I have at last resolved to put a final end to a way of life so unpleasing in the eyes of Heaven, and so disagreeable to ourselves: it never was in my power to make you truly happy, nor in your will to make me even tolerably easy; I therefore fly for ever from your ill-usage, and once more put myself under the protection of my friends, to whom I also shall commit the care of settling with you the terms of our separation; which being once agreed upon, you will not be troubled either with the complaints, or the reproaches, of your much-injured wife,
B. Munden.
P.S. I have removed nothing out of your house but what was my own before marriage.'
Upon enquiring further into the matter, he was informed that Mrs. Munden had, indeed, removed a large India-chest, a bureau, cabinet dressing-table; and, in fine, every thing that belonged immediately to herself; and also that his family was now reduced to two, her own man and maid having followed her.
All this convincing him how much she was in earnest, involved him in the most perplexing cogitations; not that he regretted the parting with her through any remains of affection, or that his hardened heart was touched with a just sensibility of her merit, or with any repentance of his ill treatment of her; but that he knew such an affair must necessarily be attended with some noise and confusion, and in many respects give him a good deal of embarrassment: it was therefore these last two reasons which alone determined him to make use of all his artifice to bring about a second reconciliation.
That beautiful lady, in the mean time, had thoughts much more composed; her brother had received her in the most affectionate manner—had approved her conduct in regard to her unfaithful husband—had assured her of the continuance of his friendship and protection; and, before she could request it of him, invited her, and such of her servants as she chose should attend her, to remain in his house as long as she should think fit. He desired her to take upon her the sole command and management of his house and family, and assigned the best apartment for her particular use: in fine, he omitted nothing that might convince her of a sincere welcome.
On discoursing together concerning her obtaining a separate maintenance,