Tales and Novels Volume V Part 45

One day when Vivian, after spending the morning _tete-a-tete_ with Lady Sarah, signified to her his intention of dining abroad, she repeated her fond request that he would be sure to come home early, and that he would tell her at what o'clock exactly she might expect to see him again. He named an hour at hazard, to free himself from her importunate anxiety; but he could not help saying, "Pshaw!" as he ran down stairs; an exclamation which fortunately reached only the ears of a groom, who was thinking of nothing but the tops of his own boots. Vivian happened to meet some agreeable people where he dined: he was much pressed to stay to supper; he yielded to entreaty, but he had the good-natured attention to send home his servant, to beg that Lady Sarah and his mother would not sit up for him. When he returned, he found all the family in bed except Lady Sarah, who was sitting up waiting for him, with her watch in her hand. The moment he appeared, she a.s.sailed him with tender reproaches, to which he answered, "But why would you sit up when I begged you would not, my dear Lady Sarah?"

She replied by a continuity of fond reproach; and among other things she said, but without believing it to be true, "Ah! I am sure you would have been happier if you had married my sister Julia, or _that_ Miss Sidney!"

Vivian sighed deeply; but the next instant, conscious that he had sighed, and afraid of giving his wife pain, he endeavoured to turn the course of her thoughts to some other subject. In vain. Poor Lady Sarah said no more, but felt this exquisitely, and with permanent anguish.

Thus her imprudence reverted upon herself, and she suffered in proportion to her pride and to her fondness. By such slight circ.u.mstances is the human heart alienated from love! Struggling to be free, the restive little deity ruffles and impairs his plumage, and seldom recovers a disposition to tranquillity. Vivian's good-nature had induced him for some time to submit to restraint; but if, instead of weakly yielding to the fond importunity of his wife--if, instead of tolerating the insipidity of her conversation and the narrowness of her views, he had with real energy employed her capacity upon suitable objects, he might have made her attachment the solace of his life.

Whoever possesses the heart of a woman, who has common powers of intellect, may improve her understanding in twelve months more than could all the masters, and lectures, and courses of philosophy, and abridgments, and _doc.u.menting_ in the universe. But Vivian had not sufficient resolution for such an undertaking: he thought only of avoiding to give or to feel present pain; and the consequences were, that the evils he dreaded every day increased.

Vivian's mother saw the progress of conjugal discontent with anguish and remorse.

"Alas!" said she to herself, "I was much to blame for pressing this match. My son told me he could never love Lady Sarah Lidhurst. It would have been better far to have broken off a marriage at the church-door than to have forced the completion of such an ill-a.s.sorted union.

My poor son married chiefly from a principle of honour; his duty and respect for my opinion had also great weight in his decision; and I have sacrificed his happiness to my desire that he should make what the world calls a splendid alliance. I am the cause of all his misery; and Heaven only knows where all this will end!"

In her paroxysm of self-reproach, and her eagerness to _set things to rights_ between her daughter-in-law and her son, she only made matters worse. She spoke with all the warmth and frankness of her own character to Lady Sarah, beseeching her to speak with equal openness, and to explain the cause of the _alteration_ in Vivian.

"I do not know what you mean, madam, by alteration in Mr. Vivian!"

"Is not there some disagreement between you, my dear?"

"There is no disagreement whatever, madam, as far as I know, between Mr.

Vivian and me--we agree perfectly," said Lady Sarah.

"Well, the _misunderstanding_!"

"I do not know of any _misunderstanding_, madam. Mr. Vivian and I understand one another perfectly."

"The _coolness_, then--Oh! what word shall I use!--Surely, my dear Lady Sarah, there is some _coolness_--something wrong?"

"I am sure, madam, I do not complain of any coolness on Mr. Vivian's part. Am I to understand that he complains to your ladys.h.i.+p of any thing wrong on mine? If he does, I shall think it my duty, when he points out the particulars, to make any alteration he may desire in my conduct and manners."

"Complain!--My son!--He makes no _complaints_, my dear. You misunderstand me. My son does not complain that any thing is wrong on your part."

"Then, madam, if no complaints are made on either side, all is as it should be, I presume, at present; and if in future I should fail in any point of duty, I shall hold myself obliged to your ladys.h.i.+p if you will then act as my monitor."

Hopeless of penetrating Lady Sarah's sevenfold fence of pride, the mother flew to her son, to try what could be done with his open and generous mind. He expressed a most earnest and sincere wish to make his wife happy. Conscious that he had given her exquisite pain, he endeavoured to make atonement by the sacrifices which he thought would be most grateful to her. He refrained often from company and conversation that was agreeable to him, and would resign himself for hours to her society. It was fortunate for Lady Julia Lidhurst that, by continuing with her good uncle the bishop, she did not see the consequences of the union which she had so strenuously advised. The advice of friends is often highly useful to prevent an imprudent match; but it seldom happens that marriages turn out happily which have been made from the opinion of others rather than from the judgment and inclinations of the parties concerned; for, let the general reasons on which the advice is grounded be ever so sensible, it is scarcely possible that the adviser can take in all the little circ.u.mstances of taste and temper, upon which so much of the happiness or misery of domestic life depends. Besides, people are much more apt to repent of having been guided by the judgment of another than of having followed their own; and this is most likely to be the case with the weakest minds. Strong minds can decide for themselves, not by the opinions but by the reasons that are laid before them: weak minds are influenced merely by opinions; and never, either before or after their decision, are firm in abiding by the preponderating reasons.

No letters, no intelligence from home, except a malicious hint now and then from her cousin Marmaduke, which she did not credit, gave her reason to suspect that the pair whom she had contributed to unite were not perfectly happy. So Lady Julia exulted in the success of her past counsels, and indulged her generous romantic disposition in schemes for forwarding a union between Russell and Selina, determining to divide her fortune amongst the children of her friends. She concluded one of her letters to Lady Sarah Vivian about this time with these words:--

"Could I but see _one other person_,--whom I must not name, rewarded for his virtues, as you are, by happy love, I should die content, and would write on my tomb:--

'Je ne fus point heureux, mais j'ai fait leur bonheur." [10]

Far removed from all romance and all generosity of sentiment, Lord Glis...o...b..ry, in the mean time, went on very comfortably, without observing any thing that pa.s.sed in his family. Whatever uneasiness obtruded upon his attention he attributed to one cause, anxiety relative to the question on which his present thoughts were exclusively fixed, viz. whether Lady Sarah's first child would be a boy or a girl. "Heaven grant a boy!" said his lords.h.i.+p; "for then, you know, there's an end of Marmaduke as heir-at-law!" Whenever his lords.h.i.+p saw a cloud on the brows of Lady Mary, of Lady Sarah, or of Vivian, he had one infallible charm for dispelling melancholy;--he stepped up close to the patient, and whispered, "It will be a boy!--My life upon it, it will be a boy!"

Sometimes it happened that this universal remedy, applied at random, made the patient start or smile; and then his lords.h.i.+p never failed to add, with a nod of great sagacity, "Ah! you didn't know I knew what you were thinking of!--Well! well! you'll see we shall cut out Marmaduke yet."

With this hope of cutting out Marmaduke, Lord Glis...o...b..ry went on very happily, and every day grew fonder of the son-in-law, who was the enemy of his heir-at-law, or whom he considered as such. The easiness of Vivian's temper was peculiarly agreeable to his lords.h.i.+p, who enjoyed the daily pleasure of governing a man of talents which were far superior to his own. This easiness of temper in our hero was much increased by the want of motive and stimulus. He thought that he had now lost his chance of happiness; he cared little for the more or less pain of each succeeding day; and so pa.s.sive was his listlessness, that to a superficial observer, like Lord Glis...o...b..ry, it looked like the good-nature of perfect content.--Poor Vivian!--In this wreck of his happiness, one saving chance, however, yet remained. He had still a public character; he was conscious of, having preserved unblemished integrity as a member of the senate; and this integrity, still more than his oratorical talents, raised him far above most of his compet.i.tors, and preserved him not only in the opinion of others, but in his own.

When parliament met, he went to town, took a very handsome house for Lady Sarah, determining to do all he could to oblige and please the wife whom he could not love. Lady Sarah had complete power, at home and abroad, of her time and her expenses: her dress, her equipages, her servants, her whole establishment, were above Vivian's fortune, and equal to her ladys.h.i.+p's birth and rank. She was mistress of every thing but of his heart. The less he liked her, the more he endeavoured to compensate for this involuntary fault, by allowing her that absolute dominion, and that external splendour, which he thought would gratify, and perhaps fill her mind. As for himself, he took refuge in the House of Commons. There he forgot for a time domestic uneasiness, and was truly animated by what so many affect--zeal for the good of his country.

He was proud to recollect, that the profligate Wharton had failed in the attempt to laugh him out of his public virtue; he was proud that Wharton's prophecies of his apostasy had never been accomplished; that, as a public! character at least, he had fulfilled the promise of his early youth, and was still worthy of himself, and of that friend whom he had lost. He clung to this idea, as to the only hope left him in life.

One night, in a debate on some question of importance, he made an excellent speech, which was particularly well received by the house, because it came from one who had an unblemished character. When Vivian went into the coffee-room to refresh himself, after he had done speaking, several of his acquaintance crowded round him, complimenting him upon his success--he broke from them all! for he saw, advancing towards him with a smile of approbation, the friend on whose approbation he set a higher value than he did even on the applauses of the house--the friend whose lost affection he had so long and so bitterly regretted. Russell stretched out his hand--Vivian eagerly seized it; and, before they had either of them spoken one word, they both understood each other perfectly, and their reconciliation was completely effected.

"Yes," said Russell, as they walked out arm in arm together, "yes, it is fit that I should forget all private resentment, in the pride and pleasure I feel, not merely in your public success, but in your public virtue. Talents, even the rare talent of oratory, you know, I hold cheap in comparison with that which is so far more rare, as well as more valuable--political integrity. The abhorrence and contempt of political profligacy, which you have just expressed, as a member of the senate, and the consistent conduct by which you have supported your principles, are worthy of you; and, allow me to say, of your education."

Vivian felt exalted in his own opinion by such praise, and by these the warmest expressions he had ever received of Russell's regard. He forgot even his domestic uneasiness; and this day, the first for many months he had spent happily, he pa.s.sed with his friend. They supped together, and related mutually all that happened since their parting. Russell told Vivian that he had lately been agreeably surprised by the gift of a valuable living from the Bishop of ----, Lady Julia Lidhurst's uncle; that the bishop, whom he had till then never seen, had written to him in the handsomest manner, saying that he knew the obligations his family owed to Mr. Russell; that it had been the dying request of his nephew, Lord Lidhurst, that some token of the family esteem and grat.i.tude should be offered to him, to whom they owed so much; but the bishop added, that neither family grat.i.tude nor private friends.h.i.+p could have induced him to bestow church preferments upon any but the person whose character best ent.i.tled him to such a distinction and such a trust.

This letter, as Vivian observed, was well calculated to satisfy Russell's conscience and his delicacy. The conversation next turned upon Lady Julia Lidhurst. Russell was not aware that Vivian knew more of her attachment to him than what had been discovered the day before he left Glis...o...b..ry; and Vivian could not help admiring the honourable and delicate manner in which his friend spoke of her, without any air of mystery, and with the greatest respect. He told Vivian he had heard that proposals had been lately made to her ladys.h.i.+p by a gentleman of great talents and of high character; but that she had positively declined his addresses, and had repeated her declaration that she would never marry.

Her good uncle left her, on this point, entirely at liberty, and did not mention the proposal to Lord Glis...o...b..ry, lest she should be exposed to any fresh difficulties. Russell expressed much satisfaction at this part of the bishop's conduct, as being not only the most kind, but the most judicious, and the most likely to dispose his niece to change her determination. He repeated his opinion that, united to a man of sense and strength of mind, she would make a charming and excellent wife.

Vivian agreed with him; yet observed, that he was convinced she would never marry--There he paused.--Could Lady Julia herself have overheard the conversation which afterwards pa.s.sed between these two gentlemen, one of whom she had loved and the other of whom she had refused, not a word would have hurt her feelings: on the contrary, she would have been raised in her own opinion, and gratified by the strong interest they both showed for her happiness. They regretted only that a young woman of such talents, and of such a fine, generous disposition, had been so injudiciously educated.

"And now, my dear Russell," cried Vivian, "that we have finished the chapter of Lady Julia, let us talk of Miss Sidney."--Russell's change of countenance showed that it was not quite so easy for him to talk upon this subject.--To spare him the effort, Vivian resumed, "As you are a rich man now, my dear Russell, you will certainly marry; and I know,"

added he, smiling, "that Miss Sidney will be your wife. If ever man deserved such a prize, you do; and I shall be the first to wish you joy."

"Stay, my good friend," interrupted Russell; "your kindness for me, and your imagination, are too quick in this antic.i.p.ation of my happiness."--Russell then told him, that he never had declared his attachment to Selina till Vivian's marriage had put an end to all probability of rivals.h.i.+p with his friend. She had expressed high esteem for Russell, but had told him, that she had suffered so much from a first unfortunate attachment, that she felt averse from any new engagements.

"Shall I a.s.sure you, as you a.s.sured me just now with regard to Lady Julia," said Vivian, "that Miss Sidney will he prevailed upon to alter her determination; and shall I add, that, though I should like Lady Julia the less, I should like Selina the better, for changing her mind?"--He went on, generously expressing sincere hopes, that his friend might obtain Selina Sidney's affections, and might enjoy that domestic happiness, which--Vivian was going to say, which he had himself forfeited; but checking this regret, he only said--"that domestic happiness, which I consider as the summit of human felicity, and which no man can deserve better than you do, my dear Russell."

Russell easily guessed that poor Vivian had not attained this summit of human felicity by his own marriage, but never adverted to any of the conversations they had held about Lady Sarah Lidhurst; never recalled any of Vivian's vehement declarations concerning the absolute impossibility of his making such a match; never evinced the least surprise at his marriage; nor inquired how he had conquered his pa.s.sion for Lady Julia. With friendly forgetfulness, he seemed to have totally obliterated from his mind all that it could do no good to remember.

Vivian was sensible of this delicacy, and grateful for it; but to imitate Russell's reserve and silence upon certain subjects required a force, a forbearance of which he was not capable. At first he had determined not to say one word to Russell of domestic uneasiness; but they had not been many hours together before Vivian poured forth all his complaints, and confessed how bitterly he repented his marriage: be declared that he had been persuaded, by the united efforts of her family and of his mother, against his own judgment, or, at least, against his taste and inclinations, to marry Lady Sarah.

"By whatever persuasions, or by whatever motives, your choice was decided," interrupted Russell, "reflect that it is decided for life; therefore abide by it, and justify it. Above all, make yourself happy with the means which are yet in your power, instead of wasting your mind in unavailing regret. You are united to a woman who has every estimable quality, as you candidly acknowledge: there are some particulars in which she does not please your taste; but withdraw your attention from these, and you will be happy with a wife who is so firmly attached to you. Consider, besides, that--romance apart--love, though a delightful pa.s.sion, is not the only resource which a man of sense, virtue, and activity may find for happiness. Your public duties, your success, and your reputation as a public character, will--"

Russell was interrupted in this consolatory and invigorating speech, by the entrance of a servant of Lord Glis...o...b..ry's, who brought a note from his lords.h.i.+p to Mr. Vivian, requesting to see him as soon as he could make it convenient to come to Glis...o...b..ry House, as his lords.h.i.+p wanted to speak to him on particular business of the greatest importance.

Vivian was provoked by being thus summoned away from his friend, to attend to one of what he called Lord Glis...o...b..ry's _important mysteries about nothing_. Russell was engaged to go into the country the ensuing day, to take possession of his new living; but he promised that he would see him again soon; and, with this hope, the two friends parted.

Vivian went to Lord Glis...o...b..ry's: he found his lords.h.i.+p in his study.

"Where have you been, Vivian?" exclaimed he: "I have sent messenger after messenger to look for you, half over the town: I thought you were to have dined with us, but you ran away, and n.o.body could tell where, or with whom; and we have been waiting for you at our cabinet council here with the utmost impatience."--Vivian answered, that he had unexpectedly met with his friend Russell; and was proceeding to tell his lords.h.i.+p how handsomely the Bishop of----had provided for his friend; but Lord Glis...o...b..ry, like many other great men, having the habit of forgetting all the services of those from whom they have nothing more to expect, cut short Vivian's narration, by exclaiming, "True, true! well, well!

that's all over now--Certainly, _that_ Russell did his duty by my poor son; and acted as he ought to do--in all things; and I'm glad to hear my brother has given him a good living; and I hope, as you say, he will soon be married--so best--so best, you know, Vivian, for reasons of our own--Well! well! I'm glad he is provided for--not but what that living would have been of essential service, if it had been reserved for a friend of mine--but my brother the bishop never can enter into any political views--might as well not have a brother a bishop--But, however, Mr. Russell's a friend of yours--I am not regretting--not so rude to you to regret----on the contrary, rejoice, particularly as Mr.

Russell is a man of so much merit--But all that's over now; and I want to talk to you upon quite another matter. You know I have always said I should, sooner or later, succeed in my grand object, hey, Vivian?"

"Your lords.h.i.+p's grand object?--I am not sure that I know it."

"Oh, surely, you know my grand object. You my son-in-law, and forget my grand object?--The marquisate, you know; the marquisate, the marquisate!

Did not I always tell you that I would make government, sooner or later, change my earldom into a marquisate? Well! the thing is done--that is, as good as done; they have sent to treat with me upon my own terms."

"I give you joy, my dear lord!" said Vivian.

"Joy!--to be sure you do, my sober sir:--one would think you had no concern or interest in the business. Joy! to be sure you give me joy; but, I can tell you, you must give me something more than joy--you must give me support."

"How he looks!" continued Lord Glis...o...b..ry, "as if he did not know what is meant by support. Vivian, did you never hear of parliamentary support?"

"I hope, my dear lord," replied Vivian, gravely, "that you have not entered into any engagements, or made any promises for me, which I cannot have it in my power to perform."

Lord Glis...o...b..ry hesitated in some confusion; and then, forcing a look of effrontery, in an a.s.sured tone, replied, "No. I have not made any engagements or promises for you which you cannot perform, Vivian, I am clear; nor any which I have not a right to expect my son-in-law will confirm with alacrity."

"What have you engaged?--what have you promised for me, my lord?" said Vivian, earnestly.

"Only, my dear boy," said Lord Glis...o...b..ry, a.s.suming a facetious tone, "only that you will be always one of us--And are not you one of us?--my son-in-law?--the deuce is in it if he is not one of us!--In short, you know, to be serious, a party must go together, that is, a family party must go together; and, if a ministry do my business, of course I do theirs. If I have my marquisate, they have my votes."

"But not my vote--pardon me, my lord--my vote cannot be bartered in this manner."