The Greatest Regency Romance Novels. Maria EdgeworthЧитать онлайн книгу.
'I fancy I need not be at any loss to guess his name, by the description you have given me of him; for I have seen no man, since my coming to town, who so well deserves those encomiums as Mr. Trueworth.'—'I am glad you think so,' said Sir Bazil; 'for I am certain your judgment will go a great way with Harriot: he is, in fact, the person I have been speaking of; and is so every way deserving of my sister's affection, that she must not only be the most insensible creature in the world, but also the greatest enemy to her own interest and happiness to refuse him.'
He then repeated to her all the conversation he had had that morning with Mr. Trueworth—the answers that gentleman had given him on the proposition he had made on Mrs. Blanchfield's account—his declaration of his passion for Miss Harriot—and every other particular, excepting that of the non-payment of her fortune; and that he concealed only because he would not be suspected to have been bribed by it to say more of his friend than he really merited.
Mrs. Wellair was equally charmed and astonished at this report; and, on Sir Bazil's telling her that Mr. Trueworth was under some apprehensions that the pleasure she took in having her sister with her would be an impediment to his desires, she very gravely replied, that she was very sorry Mr. Trueworth should imagine she was so wanting in understanding, or true affection to her sister, as, for the self-satisfaction of her company, to offer any thing in opposition to her interest or happiness.
After this they had a good deal of discourse together, concerning Mr. Trueworth's family and fortune, the particulars of both which Sir Bazil was very well acquainted with; and Mrs. Wellair, being thoroughly convinced, by what he said of the many advantages of the alliance proposed, assured him, in the strongest terms she was able, that she would do every thing in her power to promote it.
'I will entertain her on this subject while we are dressing,' said she: 'your pleasantry on this white damask will furnish me with an excellent pretence; I shall begin in the same strain you did, and then proceed to a serious narrative of all you have been telling me relating to Mr. Trueworth; to which I shall add my own sentiments of the amiableness of his person, parts, and accomplishments, and set before her eyes, in the light it deserves, the generosity of his passion, in refusing so great a fortune as Mrs. Blanchfield for her sake, and the respectfulness of it, in not daring to declare himself till he had engaged the only two who may be supposed to have any influence over her, in favour of his suit.'
'I know,' said Sir Bazil, 'that you women are the fittest to deal with one another; therefore, as I see you are hearty in the cause, shall wholly depend on your management: but, hark-ye, sister!' continued he, perceiving she was going out of the room, 'I have one more thing to add; I am to meet Trueworth at the chocolate-house this evening; he will be impatient for the success of the promise I have made him; now you know we shall have a great deal of company at dinner to-day, and I may not have an opportunity of speaking to you in private before the time of my going to him; for that reason we must have some watch-word between us, that may give an intimation in general how Harriot receives what you have said to her.'
'Oh, that is easy,' cried Mrs. Wellair; 'as thus: you shall take an occasion, either at table, or any time when you find it most proper, to ask me how I do; and by my answer to that question, you will be able to judge what success I have had.'—'Very right,' replied Sir Bazil; 'and I will be sure to observe.' There passed no more between them; she went directly up stairs to do as she had said, and Sir Bazil to pay his mourning visit to Miss Mabel, as he usually did every day.
The humours of these two worthy persons were extremely well adapted to make each other happy: Sir Bazil was gay, but he was perfectly sincere; Miss Mabel had a great deal of softness in her nature, but it was entirely under the direction of her prudence; she returned the passion of her lover with equal tenderness, yet would not permit the gratification of it till every thing that threatened an interruption of their mutual ease should be removed. Sir Bazil made no secret of his affairs to her; she knew very well that he desired no more at present of her father than the six thousand pounds charged on his estate for Miss Harriot's fortune; and as the old gentleman testified the highest esteem for him, and satisfaction in the proposed match, she flattered herself that he would at last consent to so reasonable a request; but, till he did so, remained firm in her resolution of denying both her own and her lover's wishes.
The pleasure with which they always saw each other was now, however, greatly enhanced by his acquainting her with the almost assured hope he had, that the difficulty which had so long kept them asunder would be soon got over; and he should have the inexpressible satisfaction of complying with the conditions her father had proposed, without the least danger of incurring any inconvenience to himself.
The clock striking two, he was obliged to leave her, and go home to receive the company he expected. He behaved among his friends with his accustomed vivacity; but casting his eyes frequently towards Miss Harriot, he imagined he saw a certain gloom upon her countenance, which made him fearful for the effects of Mrs. Wellair's solicitations; till, recollecting the agreement between him and that lady, he cried out hastily to her, 'How do you do, sister?' To which she answered, with a smile, 'As well as can be expected, brother;' and then, to prevent Miss Harriot, or any one else, from wondering what she meant by so odd a reply, added, 'after the ugly jolt I have had this morning over London stones in a hackney-coach.'
Sir Bazil easily understood, that by the words 'As well as can be expected,' his sister meant as much as could be hoped for from the first attack on a maid so young and innocent as Miss Harriot; and doubted not but that so favourable a beginning would have as fortunate a conclusion.
Those guests who had dined with him staid supper also; but that did not hinder him from fulfilling his engagement with Mr. Trueworth. He begged they would excuse a short excursion which, he said, he was obliged to make on extraordinary business; and accordingly went at the time appointed for the meeting that gentleman.
Mr. Trueworth received the intelligence he brought with him with transports befitting the sincerity of his passion. He thought he had little to apprehend, since Mrs. Wellair vouchsafed to become his advocate. 'It is certainly,' said Sir Bazil, 'as greatly in her power to forward the completion of your wishes, as it was to have obstructed them. But, my dear friend,' continued he, 'there is no time to be lost: the business that brought my sisters to town will soon be over; and Mrs. Wellair will then be on the wing to get home to her husband and family. You must dine with me to-morrow; I shall be able by that time to learn the particulars of Harriot's behaviour, on her first hearing an account of the affection with which you honour her; and by that you may the better judge how to proceed.' This was the substance of all the discourse they had together at that time. Sir Bazil went home, and Mr. Trueworth adjourned to a coffee-house, where he met with something not very pleasing to him. It was a letter from Miss Flora, containing these lines.
'To Charles Trueworth, Esq.
My dear Trueworth,
For such you still are, and ever must be, to my fond doating heart; though I have too much cause to fear you cease to wish it—else why this cruel absence? I have not seen you these three days!—an age to one that loves like me. I am racked to death with the apprehensions of the motives of so unexpected a neglect! If my person or passion were unworthy your regard, why did you accept them with such enchanting softness? And if ever I had any place in your affection, what have I done to forfeit it? But, sure, you cannot think of abandoning me!—of leaving me to all the horrors of despair and shame!—No! it is impossible! Ingratitude consists not with that strict honour you pretend to; and that, I still flatter myself, you are in reality possessed of. You may have had some business: but how poor a thing is business when compared with love! And I may reply, with our English Sappho, in one of her amorous epistles—
"Business you feign; but did you love like me,
I should your most important business be."
But whither does my hurrying spirits transport me! If I am still so happy to retain any share of your heart, I have said too much; if I am not, all I can say will be ineffectual to move you. I shall, therefore, only tell you that I can live no longer without seeing you, and will call on you at the coffee-house this evening about eight; till when I am, though in the utmost distraction, my dear, dear Trueworth, your passionately tender, and devoted servant,
F.