Adeline Mowbray Part 6

'Who could dare to invent so infamous a calumny!' exclaimed Adeline.

'My authority is unquestionable, Miss Mowbray; I speak from Sir Patrick himself.'

'Then he adds falsehood to his other villanies!' returned Adeline, almost inarticulate with rage:--'but what could be expected from a man who could dare to insult a young woman under the roof of her mother with his licentious addresses?'

'What mean you?' cried Mrs Mowbray, turning pale.

'I mean that Sir Patrick yesterday morning insulted me by the grossest familiarities, and--'

'My dear child,' replied Mrs Mowbray laughing, 'that is only the usual freedom of his manner; a manner which your ignorance of the world led you to mistake. He did not mean to insult you, believe me, I am sure that, spite of his ardent pa.s.sion for me, he never, even when alone with me, hazarded any improper liberty.'

'The ardent pa.s.sion which he feels for you, madam!' exclaimed Adeline, turning pale in her turn.

'Yes, Miss Mowbray! What, I suppose you think me too old to inspire one!--But, I a.s.sure you, there are people who think the mother handsomer than the daughter!'

'No doubt, dear mother, every one ought to think so,--and would to heaven Sir Patrick were one of those! But he, unfortunately--'

'Is of that opinion,' interrupted Mrs Mowbray angrily: 'and to convince you--so tenderly does he love me, and so fondly do I return his pa.s.sion, that in a few days I shall become his wife.'

Adeline, on hearing this terrible information, fell insensible on the ground. When she recovered she saw Mrs Mowbray anxiously watching by her, but not with that look of alarm and tenderness with which she had attended her during her long illness; that look which was always present to her graceful and affectionate remembrance. No; Mrs Mowbray's eye was cast down with a half-mournful, half-reproachful, and half-fearful expression, when it met that of Adeline.

The emotion of anguish which her fainting had evinced was a reproach to the proud heart of Mrs Mowbray, and Adeline felt that it was so; but when she recollected that her mother was going to marry a man who had so lately declared a criminal pa.s.sion for herself, she was very near relapsing into insensibility. She however struggled with her feelings, in order to gain resolution to disclose to Mrs Mowbray all that had pa.s.sed between her and Sir Patrick. But as soon as she offered to renew the conversation, Mrs Mowbray sternly commanded her to be silent; and insisting on her going to bed, she left her to her own reflections, till wearied and exhausted she fell into a sound sleep: nor, as it was late in the evening when she awoke, did she rise again till the next morning.

Mrs Mowbray entered her room as she was dressing and inquired how she did, with some kindness.

'I shall be better, dear mother, if you will but hear what I have to say concerning Sir Patrick,' replied Adeline, bursting into tears.

'You can say nothing that will shake my opinion of him, Miss Mowbray,'

replied her mother coldly: 'so I advise you to reconcile yourself to a circ.u.mstance which it is not in your power to prevent.' So saying, she left the room: and Adeline, convinced that all she could say would be vain, endeavoured to console herself, by thinking that, as soon as Sir Patrick became the husband of her mother, his wicked designs on her would undoubtedly cease; and that, therefore, in one respect, that ill-a.s.sorted union would be beneficial to her.

Sir Patrick, meanwhile, was no less sanguine in his expectations from his marriage. Unlike the innocent Adeline, he did not consider his union with the mother as a necessary check to his attempts on the daughter; but, emboldened by what to him appeared the libertine sentiments of Adeline, and relying on the opportunities of being with her, which he must infallibly enjoy under the same roof in the country, he looked on her as his certain prey. Though he believed Glenmurray to be at that moment preferred to himself, he thought it impossible that the superior beauty of his person should not, in the end, have its due weight: as a pa.s.sion founded in esteem, and the admiration of intellectual beauty, could not, in his opinion, subsist: besides, Adeline appeared in his eyes not a deceived enthusiast, but a susceptible and forward girl, endeavouring to hide her frailty under fine sentiments and high-sounding theories. Nor was Sir Patrick's inference an unnatural one. Every man of the world would have thought the same; and on very plausible grounds.

CHAPTER VIII

As Sir Patrick was not 'punctual as lovers to the moment sworn', Mrs Mowbray resolved to sit down and write immediately to Glenmurray; flattering herself at the same time, that the letter which was designed to confound Glenmurray would delight the tender baronet;--for Mrs Mowbray piqued herself on her talents for letter-writing, and was not a little pleased with an opportunity of displaying them to a celebrated author. But never before did she find writing a letter so difficult a task. Her eager wish of excelling deprived her of the means; and she who, in a letter to a friend or relation, would have written in a style at once clear and elegant, after two hours' effort produced the following specimen of the obscure, the pedantic, and affected.--

'SIR,

'The light which cheers and attracts, if we follow its guidance, often leads us into bogs and quagmires:--Verb.u.m sapienti. Your writings are the lights, and the practice to which you advise my deluded daughter is the bog and quagmire. I agree with you in all you have said against marriage;--I agree with the savage nations in the total uselessness of clothing; still I condescend to wear clothes, though neither becoming nor useful, because I respect public opinion; and I submit to the inst.i.tution of marriage for reasons equally cogent. Such being my sentiments, Sir, I must desire you never to see my daughter more. Nor could you expect to be received with open arms by me, whom the shafts of your ridicule have pierced, though warded off by the s.h.i.+eld of love and gallantry;--but for this I thank you! Now shall I possess, owing to your baseness, at once a declared lover and a tried avenger; and the chains of Hymen will be rendered more charming by grat.i.tude's having blown the flame, while love forged the fetters.

'But with your writings I continue to amuse my imagination.--Lovely is the flower of the nightshade, though its berry be poison. Still shall I admire and wonder at you as an author, though I avoid and detest you as a man.

'EDITHA MOWBRAY.'

This letter was just finished when Sir Patrick arrived, and to him it was immediately shown.

'Heh! what have we here?' cried he laughing violently as he perused it.

'Here you talk of being pierced by shafts which were warded off. Now, had I said that, it would have been called a bull. As to the concluding paragraph--'

'O! that, I flatter myself,' said Mrs Mowbray, 'will tear him with remorse.'

'He must first understand it,' cried Sir Patrick: 'I can but just comprehend it, and am sure it will be all botheration to him.'

'I am sorry to find such is your opinion,' replied Mrs Mowbray; 'for I think that sentence the best written of any.'

'I did not say it was not fine writing,' replied the baronet, 'I only said it was not to be understood.--But, with your leave, you shall send the letter, and we'll drop the subject.'

So said, so done, to the great satisfaction of Sir Patrick, who felt that it was for his interest to suffer the part of Mrs Mowbray's letter which alluded to Glenmurray's supposed calumnies against her to remain obscurely worded, as he well knew that what he had a.s.serted on this subject was wholly void of foundation.

Glenmurray did not receive it with equal satisfaction. He was indignant at the charge of having advised Adeline to become his mistress rather than his wife; and as so much of the concluding pa.s.sage as he could understand seemed to imply that he had calumniated her mother, to remain silent a moment would have been to confess himself guilty: he therefore answered Mrs Mowbray's letter immediately. The answer was as follows:--

'MADAM,

'To clear myself from the charge of having advised Miss Mowbray to a step contrary to the common customs, however erroneous, of society at this period, I appeal to the testimony of Miss Mowbray herself; and I here repeat to you the a.s.surance which I made to her, that I am willing to marry her when and where she chooses. I love my system and my opinions, but the respectability of the woman of my affections _more_. Allow me, therefore, to make you a little acquainted with my situation in life:

'To you it is well known, madam, that wealth, honours, and t.i.tles have no value in my eyes; and that I reverence talents and virtues, though they wear the garb of poverty, and are born in the most obscure stations. But you, or rather those who are so fortunate as to influence your determinations, may consider my sentiments on this subject as romantic and absurd. It is necessary, therefore, that I should tell you, as an excuse in their eyes for presuming to address your daughter, that, by the accident of birth, I am descended from an ancient family, and nearly allied to a n.o.ble one; and that my paternal inheritance, though not large enough for splendour and luxury, is sufficient for all the purposes of comfort and genteel affluence. I would say more on this subject, but I am impatient to remove from your mind the prejudice which you seem to have imbibed against me. I do not perfectly understand the last paragraph in your letter. If you will be so kind as to explain it to me, you may depend on my being perfectly ingenuous: indeed, I have no difficulty in declaring, that I have neither encouraged a feeling, nor uttered a word, capable of giving the lie to the declaration which I am now going to make--That I am,

'With respect and esteem,

'Your obedient servant,

'F. GLENMURRAY.'

This letter had an effect on Mrs Mowbray's feelings so much in favour of Glenmurray, that she was almost determined to let him marry Adeline.

She felt that she owed her some amends for contracting a marriage so suddenly, and without either her knowledge or approbation; and she thought that, by marrying her to the man of her heart, she should make her peace both with Adeline and herself. But, unfortunately, this design, as soon as it began to be formed, was communicated to Sir Patrick.

'So then!' exclaimed he, 'you have forgotten and forgiven the impertinent things which the puppy said! things which obliged me to wear this little useless appendage in a sling thus (pointing to his wounded arm).'

'O! no, my dear Sir Patrick! But though what Mr Glenmurray said might alarm the scrupulous tenderness of a lover, perhaps it was a remark which might only suit the sincerity of a friend. Perhaps, if Mr Glenmurray had made it to me, I should have heard it with thanks, and with candour have approved it.'

'My sweet soul!' replied Sir Patrick, 'you may be as candid and amiable as ever you please, but, 'by St. Patrick!' never shall Sir Patrick O'Carrol be father-in-law to the notorious and infamous Glenmurray--that subverter of all religion and order, and that scourge of civilized society!'

So saying, he stalked about the room; and Mrs Mowbray, as she gazed on his handsome person, thought it would be absurd for her to sacrifice her own happiness to her daughter's, and give up Sir Patrick as her husband in order to make Glenmurray her son. She therefore wrote another letter to Glenmurray, forbidding him any further intercourse with Adeline, on any pretence whatever; and delayed not a moment to send him her final decision.

'That is acting like the sensible woman I took you for,' said Sir Patrick: 'the fellow has now gotten his quietus, I trust, and the dear little Adeline is reserved for happier fate. Sweet soul! you do not know how fond she will be of me! I protest that I shall be so kind to her, it will be difficult for people to decide which I love best, the daughter or the mother.'

'But I hope _I_ shall always know, Sir Patrick,' said Mrs Mowbray gravely.

'You!--O yes, to be sure. But I mean that my fatherly attentions shall be of the warmest kind. But now do me the favour of telling me what hour tomorrow I may appoint the clergyman to bring the license?'

The conversation that followed, it were needless and tedious to describe.

Suffice, that eight o'clock the next morning was fixed for the marriage; and Mrs Mowbray, either from shame or compa.s.sion, resolved that Adeline should not accompany her to church, nor even know of the ceremony till it was over.