Tales and Novels Volume I Part 52

Mr. Mountague looked with anxiety at Lady Augusta, to see what she thought of her governess's notions; but all that he could judge from her countenance was that she did not think at all. "Well, she has time enough before her to learn to think," said he to himself. "I am glad she did not a.s.sent to mademoiselle's _notions_, at least. I hope she has learnt nothing from her but '_the true French p.r.o.nunciation_.'"

No sooner was breakfast finished than Lord George ---- gave his customary morning yawn, and walked as usual to the window. "Come," said Dashwood, in his free manner--"come, mademoiselle, you must come down with us to the water-side, and Lady Augusta, I hope."

"Ay," whispered Lord George to Dashwood, "and let's settle our wager about mademoiselle and my blackamore--don't think I'll let you off that."

"Off!--I'm ready to double the bet, my lord," said Dashwood aloud, and in the same moment turned to mademoiselle with some high-flown compliment about the beauty of her complexion, and the dangers of going without a veil on a hot sunny day.

"Well, Mr. Dashwood, when you've persuaded mademoiselle to take the veil, we'll set out, if you please," said Lady Augusta.

Mr. Mountague, who kept his attention continually upon Lady Augusta, was delighted to see that she waited for the elderly lady, who, at breakfast, had said so much in favour of dignity of manners. Mr.

Mountague did not, at this moment, consider that this elderly lady was Lord George's aunt, and that the attention paid to her by Lady Augusta might possibly proceed from motives of policy, not from choice. Young men of open tempers and generous dispositions are easily deceived by coquettes, because they cannot stoop to invent the meanness of their artifices. As Mr. Mountague walked down to the river, Lady Augusta contrived to entertain him so completely, that Helen Temple never once came into his mind; though he had sense enough to perceive his danger, he had not sufficient _courage_ to avoid it: it sometimes requires courage to fly from danger. From this agreeable _tete-a-tete_ he was roused, however, by the voice of Mlle. Panache, who, in an affected agony, was struggling to get away from Dashwood, who held both her hands--"No! no!--_Non! non!_ I will not--I will not, I tell you, I will not."

"Nay, nay," said Dashwood; "but I have sworn to get you into the boat."

"Ah! into de boat _a la bonne heure_; but not wid dat vilain black."

"Well, then, persuade Lord George to send back his man; and you'll acknowledge, my lord, in that case it's a drawn bet," said Dashwood.

"I! not I. I'll acknowledge nothing," replied his lords.h.i.+p; and he swore his black Tom should not be sent away: "he's a capital boatman, and I can't do without him."

"Den I won't stir," said mademoiselle, pa.s.sionately, to Dashwood.

"Then I must carry you, must I?" cried Dashwood, laughing; and immediately, to Mr. Mountague's amazement, a romping scene ensued between this tutor and governess, which ended in Dashwood's carrying mademoiselle in his arms into the boat, amidst the secret derision of two footmen, and the undisguised laughter of black Tom, who were spectators of the scene.

Mr. Mountague trembled at the thoughts of receiving a wife from the hands of a Mlle. Panache; but, turning his eye upon Lady Augusta, he thought she blushed, and this blush at once saved her, in his opinion, and increased his indignation against her governess. Mademoiselle being now alarmed, and provoked by the laughter of the servants, the dry sarcastic manner of Lord George, the cool air of Mr. Mountague, and the downcast looks of her pupil, suddenly turned to Dashwood, and in a high angry tone a.s.sured him, "that she had never seen n.o.body have so much a.s.surance;" and she demanded, furiously--"how he could ever tink to take such liberties wid her? Only tell me how you could dare to tink of it?"

"I confess I did not _think_ as I ought to have done, mademoiselle,"

replied Dashwood, looking an apology to Lady Augusta, which, however, he took great care mademoiselle should not observe. "But your bet, my lord, if you please," added he, attempting to turn it off in a joke: "there was no scream--my bet's fairly won."

"I a.s.sure you, sir, dis won't do: it's no good joke, I promise you.

_Ma chere amie, mon coeur_," cried mademoiselle to Lady Augusta--"_viens_--come, let us go--Don't touch that," pursued she, roughly, to black Tom, who was going to draw away the plank that led to the sh.o.r.e. "I will go home dis minute, and speak to Miladi S----.

_Viens! viens, ma chere amie!_"--and she darted out of the boat, whilst Dashwood followed, in vain attempting to stop her. She prudently, however, took the longest way through the park, that she might have a full opportunity of _listening to reason_, as Dashwood called it; and before she reached home, she was perfectly convinced of the expediency of moderate measures. "Let the thing rest where it is," said Dashwood: "it's a joke, and there's an end of it; but if you take it in earnest, you know the story might not tell so well, even if you told it, and there would never be an end of it." All this, followed by a profusion of compliments, ratified a peace, which the moment he had made, he laughed at himself for having taken so much trouble to effect; whilst mademoiselle rested in the blessed persuasion that Dashwood was desperately in love with her; nay, so little knowledge had she of the human heart as to believe that the scene which had just pa.s.sed was a proof of his pa.s.sion.

"I wonder where's Miladi Augusta? I thought she was wid me all this time," said she.

"She's coming; don't you see her at the end of the grove with Mr.

Mountague? We have walked fast,"

"Oh, she can't never walk so fast as me; I tink I am as young as she is."

Dashwood a.s.sented, at the same time pondering upon the consequences of the attachment which he saw rising in Mr. Mountague's mind for Lady Augusta. If a man of sense were to gain an influence over her, Dashwood feared that all his hopes would be destroyed, and he resolved to use all his power over mademoiselle to prejudice her, and by her means to prejudice her pupil against this gentleman. Mademoiselle's having begun by taking him for an _apothicaire_, was a circ.u.mstance much in favour of Dashwood's views, because she felt herself pledged to justify, or at least to persist, in her opinion, that he did not look like _un homme comme il faut_.

In the mean time Mr. Mountague was walking slowly towards them with Lady Augusta, who found it necessary to walk as slowly as possible, because of the heat. He had been reflecting very soberly upon her ladys.h.i.+p's late blush, which, according to his interpretation, said, as plainly as a blush could say, all that the most refined sense and delicacy could dictate. Yet such is, upon some occasions, the inconsistency of the human mind, that he by no means felt _sure_ that the lady had blushed at all. Her colour was, perhaps, a shade higher than usual; but then it was hot weather, and she had been walking. The doubt, however, Mr.

Mountague thought proper to suppress; and the reality of the blush, once thoroughly established in his imagination, formed the foundation of several ingenious theories of moral sentiment, and some truly logical deductions. A pa.s.sionate admirer of grace and beauty, he could not help wis.h.i.+ng that he might find Lady Augusta's temper and understanding equal to her personal accomplishments. When we are very anxious to discover perfections in any character, we generally succeed, or fancy that we succeed. Mr. Mountague quickly discovered many amiable and interesting qualities in this fair lady, and, though he perceived some defects, he excused them to himself with the most philosophic ingenuity.

"Affectation," the judicious Locke observes, "has always the laudable aim of pleasing:" upon this principle Mr. Mountague could not reasonably think of it with severity. "From the desire of pleasing," argued he, "proceeds not only all that is amiable, but much of what is most estimable in the female s.e.x. This desire leads to affectation and coquetry, to folly and vice, only when it is extended to unworthy objects. The moment a woman's wish to please becomes discriminative, the moment she feels any attachment to a man superior to the vulgar herd, she not only ceases to be a coquette, but she exerts herself to excel in every thing that he approves, and, from her versatility of manners, she has the happy power of adapting herself to his taste, and of becoming all that his most sanguine wishes could desire." The proofs of this discriminative taste, and the first symptoms of this salutary attachment to a man superior to the vulgar herd, Mr. Mountague thought he discerned very plainly in Lady Augusta, nor did he ever forget that she was but eighteen. "She is so very young," said he to himself, "that it is but reasonable I should constantly consider what she may become, rather than what she is." To do him justice, we shall observe, that her ladys.h.i.+p at this time, with all the address of which so young a lady was capable, did every thing in her power to confirm Mr. Mountague in his favourable sentiments of her.

Waiting for some circ.u.mstance to decide his mind, he was at length determined by the generous enthusiasm, amiable simplicity, and candid good sense which Lady Augusta showed in speaking of a favourite friend of hers, of whom he could not approve. This friend, Lady Diana, was one of the rude ladies who had laughed with so much ill-nature at Helen's white and black shoes at the archery ball. She was a das.h.i.+ng, rich, extravagant, fas.h.i.+onable widow, affecting bold horsemanlike manners, too often "touching the brink of all we hate," without exciting any pa.s.sions allied to love. Her look was almost an oath--her language was suitable to her looks--she swore and dressed to the height of the fas.h.i.+on--she could drive four horses in hand--was a desperate huntress--and so loud in the praises of her dogs and horses, that she intimidated even sportsmen and jockeys. She talked so much of her favourite horse _Spanker_, that she acquired amongst a particular set of gentlemen the appellation of my Lady Di Spanker. Lady Augusta perceived that the soft affectations remarkable in her own manners were in agreeable contrast in the company of this masculine dame; she therefore cultivated her acquaintance, and Lady S---- could make no objection to a woman who was well received every where; she was rather flattered to see her daughter taken notice of by this das.h.i.+ng belle; consequently, Lady Di. Spanker, for by that name we also shall call her, frequently rode over from Cheltenham, which was some miles distant from S---- Hall. One morning she called upon Lady Augusta, and insisted upon her coming out to try her favourite horse. All the gentlemen went down immediately to a.s.sist in putting her ladys.h.i.+p on horseback: this was quite unnecessary, for Lady Diana took that office upon herself. Lady Augusta was all timidity, and was played off to great advantage by the rough raillery of her friend. At length she conquered her fears so much as to seat herself upon the side-saddle; her riding mistress gathered up the reins for her, and fixed them properly in her timid hands; then armed her with her whip, exhorting her, "for G.o.d's sake, not to be such a coward!" Scarcely was the word _coward_ p.r.o.nounced, when Lady Augusta, by some unguarded motion of her whip, gave offence to her high-mettled steed, which instantly began to rear: there was no danger, for Mr. Mountague caught hold of the reins, and Lady Augusta was dismounted in perfect safety.

"How now, Spanker!" exclaimed Lady Di., in a voice calculated to strike terror into the nerves of a horse--"how now, Spanker!" and mounting him with masculine boldness of gesture--"I'll teach you, sir, who's your mistress," continued she; "I'll make you pay for these tricks!"

Spanker reared again, and Lady Di. gave him what she called "a complete dressing!" In vain Lady Augusta screamed; in vain the spectators entreated the angry amazon to spare the whip; she persisted in beating Spanker till she fairly mastered him. When he was perfectly subdued, she dismounted with the same carelessness with which she had mounted; and, giving the horse to her groom, pushed back her hat, and looked round for applause. Lord George, roused to a degree of admiration, which he had never before been heard to express for any thing female, swore that, in all his life, he had never seen any thing better done; and Lady Di.

Spanker received his congratulations with a loud laugh, and a hearty shake of the hand. "Walk him about, Jack," added she, turning to the groom, who held her horse; "walk him about, for he's all in a lather; and when he's cool, bring him up here again. And then, my dear child,"

said she to Lady Augusta, "you shall give him a fair trial."

"I!--Oh! never, never!" cried Lady Augusta, shrinking back with a faint shriek: "this is a trial to which you must not put my friends.h.i.+p. I must insist upon leaving Spanker to your management; I would not venture upon him again for the universe."

"How can you talk so like a child--so like a woman?" cried her friend.

"I confess, I am a very woman," said Lady Augusta, with a sigh: "and I fear I shall never be otherwise."

"_Fear_!" repeated Mr. Mountague, to whom even the affectation of feminine softness and timidity appeared at this instant charming, from the contrast with the masculine intrepidity and disgusting coa.r.s.eness of Lady Diana Spanker's manners. The tone in which he p.r.o.nounced the single word _fear_ was sufficient to betray his feelings towards both the ladies. Lady Di. gave him a look of sovereign contempt. "All I know and can tell you," cried she, "is, that fear should never get a-horseback."

Lord George burst into one of his loud laughs. "But as to the rest, _fear_ may be a confounded good thing in its proper place; but they say it's catching; so I must run away from you, child," said she to Lady Augusta. "Jack, bring up Spanker. I've twenty miles to ride before dinner. I've no time to lose," pulling out her watch: "faith, I've fooled away an hour here; Spanker must make it up for me. G.o.d bless you all! Good bye!" and she mounted her horse, and galloped off full speed.

"G.o.d bless ye! good bye to ye, Lady Di. Spanker," cried Dashwood, the moment she was out of hearing. "Heaven preserve us from amazons!" Lord George did not say, _Amen_. On the contrary, he declared she was a fine das.h.i.+ng woman, and seemed to have a great deal of blood about her. Mr.

Mountague watched Lady Augusta's countenance in silence, and was much pleased to observe that she did not a.s.sent to his lords.h.i.+p's encomium.

"She has good sense enough to perceive the faults of her new friend, and now her eyes are open she will no longer make a favourite companion, I hope, of this odious woman," thought he. "I am afraid, I am sadly afraid you are right," said Lady Augusta, going up to the elderly lady, whom we formerly mentioned, who had seen all that had pa.s.sed from the open windows of the drawing-room. "I own I _do_ see something of what you told me the other day you disliked so much in my friend, Lady Di.;" and Lady Augusta gave the candid sigh of expiring friends.h.i.+p as she uttered these words.

"Do you know," cried Dashwood, "that this spanking horsewoman has frightened us all out of our senses? I vow to Heaven, I never was so much terrified in my life as when I saw you, Lady Augusta, upon that vicious animal."

"To be sure," said Lady Augusta, "it was very silly of me to venture; I almost broke my neck, out of _pure friends.h.i.+p_."

"It is well it is no worse," said the elderly lady: "if a fall from a horse was the worst evil to be expected from a friends.h.i.+p with a woman of this sort, it would be nothing very terrible."

Lady Augusta, with an appearance of ingenuous candour, sighed again, and replied--"It is so difficult to see any imperfections in those one loves! Forgive me, if I spoke with too much warmth, madam, the other day, in vindication of my friend. I own I ought to have paid more deference to your judgment and knowledge of the world, so much superior to my own; but certainly I must confess, the impropriety of her amazonian manners, as Mr. Dashwood calls them, never struck my partial eyes till this morning. Nor could I, nor would I, believe half the world said of her; indeed, even now, I am persuaded she is, in the main, quite irreproachable; but I feel the truth of what you said to me, madam, that young women cannot be too careful in the choice of their female friends; that we are judged of by our companions; how unfairly one must be judged of sometimes!" concluded her ladys.h.i.+p, with a look of pensive reflection.

Mr. Mountague never thought her half so beautiful as at this instant.

"How _mind_ embellishes beauty!" thought he; "and what quality of the mind more amiable than candour!--All that was wanting to her character was reflection; and could one expect so much reflection as this from a girl of eighteen, who had been educated by a Mlle. Panache?" Our readers will observe that this gentleman now reasoned like a madman, but not like a fool; his deductions from the appearances before him were admirable; but these appearances were false. He had not observed that Lady Augusta's eyes were open to the defects of her amazonian friend, in the very moment that Lord George ---- was roused to admiration by this horseman belle. Mr. Mountague did not perceive that the candid reflections addressed to his lords.h.i.+p's aunt were the immediate consequence of female jealousy.

The next morning, at breakfast, Lord George was summoned three times before he made his appearance: at length he burst in, with a piece of news he had just heard from his groom--"That Lady Di. Spanker, in riding home full gallop the preceding day, had been thrown from her horse by an old woman. Faith, I couldn't believe the thing," added Lord George, with a loud laugh; "for she certainly sits a horse better than any woman in England; but my groom had the whole story from the grand-daughter of the old woman who was run over."

"Run over!" exclaimed Lady Augusta; "was the poor woman run over?--was she hurt?"

"Hurt! yes, she was hurt, I fancy," said Lord George. "I never heard of any body's being run over without being hurt. The girl has a pet.i.tion that will come up to us just now, I suppose. I saw her in the back yard as I came in."

"Oh! let us see the poor child," said Lady Augusta: "do let us have her called to this window." The window opened down to the ground, and, as soon as the little girl appeared with the pet.i.tion in her hand, Lady Augusta threw open the sash, and received it from her timid hand with a smile, which to Mr. Mountague seemed expressive of sweet and graceful benevolence. Lady Augusta read the pet.i.tion with much feeling, and her lover thought her voice never before sounded so melodious. She wrote her name eagerly at the head of a subscription. The money she gave was rather more than the occasion required; but, thought Mr. Mountague,

"If the generous spirit flow Beyond where prudence fears to go Those errors are of n.o.bler kind, Than virtues of a narrow mind[2]."

[Footnote 2: Soame Jenyns.]

By a series of petty artifices Lady Augusta contrived to make herself appear most engaging and amiable to this artless young man: but the moment of success was to her the moment of danger. She was little aware, that when a man of sense began to think seriously of her as a wife, he would require very different qualities from those which please in public a.s.semblies. Her ladys.h.i.+p fell into a mistake not uncommon in her s.e.x; she thought that "Love blinds when once he wounds the swain[3]."

Coquettes have sometimes penetration sufficient to see what will please their different admirers: but even those who have that versatility of manners, which can be all things to all men, forget that it is possible to support an a.s.sumed character only for a time; the moment the immediate motive for dissimulation diminishes, the power of habit acts, and the real disposition and manners appear.

[Footnote 3: Collius's Eclogues.]

When Lady Augusta thought herself sure of her captive, and consequently when the power of habit was beginning to act with all its wonted force, she was walking out with him in a shrubbery near the house, and mademoiselle, with Mr. Dashwood, who generally was the gallant partner of her walks, accompanied them. Mademoiselle stopped to gather some fine carnations; near the carnations was a rose-tree. Mr. Mountague, as three of those roses, one of them in full blow, one half blown, and another a pretty bud, caught his eye, recollected a pa.s.sage in Berkeley's romance of _Gaudentio di Lucca_. "Did you ever happen to meet with Gaudentio di Lucca? do you recollect the story of Berilla, Lady Augusta?" said he.

"No; I have never heard of Berilla: what is the story?" said she.

"I wish I had the book," said Mr. Mountague; "I cannot do it justice, but I will borrow it for you from Miss Helen Temple. I lent it to her some time ago; I dare say she has finished reading it."