The History of Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 4 (of 7)
Sit down, my love, said I.—What! When I am talking of a reconciled mother! And to dear Miss Byron!—No, indeed.
She often held out one open hand, while the forefinger of the other, in full action, patted it; as at other times both were spread, with pretty wonder and delight: and thus she began:—
Why, you must know, it was about six o'clock yesterday afternoon, that my mother and her husband, and Captain Salmonet, came. I was told of their visit but two hours before: and when the coach stopped, and I at the window saw them alight, I thought I should have fainted away. I would have given half I was worth in the world to have been an hundred miles off.
Dr. Bartlett was there, and received them. My guardian was unexpectedly engaged in answering a letter sent him by Lord W–, for which a gentleman waited: but they had not been there a quarter of an hour, when he entered, and made apologies to them in his usual gracious manner. Never, the doctor says, did any body look so respectful as the major and the captain; and they would have made apologies to my guardian, for their last behaviour to him; but he would not let them. And my mother, the doctor says, from the very first, behaved prettily.
The moment she asked for me, my guardian himself condescended to come up to me, and took my hand—Was not that very good of him?—My dear, said he, as he led me down stairs, (and spoke so kindly,) don't tremble so: am I not with you?—Your mother is very calm and composed: you must ask her blessing. I shall ease your tender heart of every pang. I shall hint to you what to do, and how to behave to the gentlemen, as occasions arise.
He had no sooner said the words, but the drawing-room door gave way to his hand, and I was in the room with him.
Down on my knees dropt I—as I now do to you: but I could not speak. Thus I did. [And she kissed my hand, and bowed her face upon it.] And my mother raised me—You must raise me, madam—Yes, just so—And she kissed me too, and wept on my neck; and called me pretty names; and encouraged me, and said she loved me, as she loved her own soul—And I was encouraged.
My guardian then, with the air and manner of a gracious prince, took my hand, and presented it first to the major, then to the captain; and they each kissed my hand, and spoke in my praise, I can't tell how many fine things.
Major, said my guardian, when he presented me to him, you must excuse the dear child's weakness of spirits: she wishes you all happiness on your nuptials: she has let me know, that she is very desirous to do you service for her mother's sake.
The major swore by his soul, I was an angel!—Captain Salmonet said, that, by his salvation, I was a charming young lady!
My mother wept—O, Sir! said she to my guardian: and dropping down in a chair by the window, not a word more could she speak.
I ran to her, and clasped my arms about her. She wept the more: I wiped her eyes with her own handkerchief: I told her, it went to my heart to see her cry: I begged she would spare me this grief.
She clasped her arms then about me, and kissed my cheek, and my forehead.
O, thought I, it is very good of you, my dear mother.
Then came my guardian to us, and he kindly took my mother's hand, and conducted her to the fire-side; and he led me, and placed me by her, at the tea-table; and he made the major and the captain sit down by him: so much graciousness in his countenance. O, madam! I shall be an idolater, I am afraid. And he said, Emily, my dear, you will make tea for us. My sister dined abroad, madam, to my mother.—Yes, sir, I will, said I: and I was as lively as a bird.
But before the servants came in, Let me tell you, madam, said he, what Miss Jervois has proposed to me.—They were in silent expectation.
She has desired that you, major, will accept from her, for your mutual use, of an additional 100£. a year; which I shall order to be paid you quarterly, during Mrs. O'Hara's life, not doubting but you will make her as happy as it is in your power to make her.
My mother bowed, coloured with gratitude, and looked obliged.
And she begs of you, madam, turning to my mother, that you will accept, as from the Major, another 100£. a year, for pin-money, which he, or which you, madam, will draw upon me for; also quarterly, if you choose not to trouble him to do it: for this 100£. a year must be appropriated to your sole and separate use, madam; and not be subject to your controul, Major O'Hara.
Good God! sir! said the Major!—What a wretch was I, the last time I was here!—There is no bearing of this!
He got up, and went to the window: and the captain said, Blessed Jesu! and something else, which I could not mind; for I was weeping like a baby.
What, sir! said my mother, 400£. a year! Do you mean so?—I do, madam— And, sir, to be so generously paid me my 100£. of it, as if I received it not from my child, but from my husband!—Good God! How you overpower me, sir! What shame, what remorse, do you strike into my heart!
And my poor mother's tears ran down as fast as mine.
O madam, said the dear girl to me, clasping her arms about me, how your tender heart is touched!—It is well you were not there!
Dr. Bartlett came in to tea. My guardian would not permit Antony, who offered himself, to wait. Antony had been my own papa's servant, when my mother was not so good.
Nothing but blessings, nothing but looks and words of admiration and gratitude, passed all the tea-time. How their hearts rejoiced, I warrant!—Is it not a charming thing, madam, to make people's hearts glad?—To be sure it is! How many hearts has my guardian rejoiced! You must bid him be cross to me, or I shall not know what to do with myself! —But then, if he was, I should only get by myself, and cry, and be angry with myself, and think he could not be to blame.
O my love, my Emily! said I, take care of your gratitude: that drew in your true friend.
Well, but how can it be helped, madam? Can a right heart be ungrateful? —Dr. Bartlett says, There is no such thing as true happiness in this life: and is it not better to be unhappy from good men and women, than from bad?—Dear madam, why you have often made me unhappy, because of your goodness to me; and because I knew, that I neither could deserve nor return it.
The dear prater went on—My guardian called me aside, when tea was over. My Emily, said he, [I do love he should call me his Emily!—But all the world is his Emily, I think,] Let me see what you will do with these two notes; giving me two bank-notes of 25£. each.—Present pin-money and cash may be wanted. We will suppose that your mother has been married a quarter of a year. Her pin-money and the additional annuity may commence from the 25th of December last. Let me, Emily, when they go away, see the graceful manner in which you will dispose of the notes: and from Mr. O'Hara's behaviour upon it, we shall observe whether he is a man with whom your mother, if it be not her own fault, (now you have made it their interest to be kind to each other,) may live well: but the motion be all your own.
How good this was! I could have kissed the hand that gave me the notes, if I thought it would not have looked too free.
I understand you, sir, said I.
And when they went away, pouring out their very hearts in grateful joy, I addressed myself to Mr. O'Hara. Sir, said I, it is proper that the payment of the additional annuity should have a commencement. Let it be from Christmas last. Accept of the first payment from my own hands—And I gave him one 25£. note: and looking at my mother, with a look of duty, for fear be should mistake, and discredit himself in the eyes of the deepest discerner in the world, gave him the other.
He looked upon first one, then upon the other note with surprise—And then bowing to the ground to me, and to my guardian, he stept to my mother, and presented them both to her. You, madam, said he, must speak: I cannot as I ought: God send me with a whole heart out of this house! He hurried out, and when he was in the hall, wiped his eyes, and sobbed like a child, as one of the servants told my Anne.
My mother looked upon one note as her husband had done, and upon the other; and, lifting up her eyes, embraced me—And would have said something to my guardian, but he prevented her, by saying—Emily will be always dutiful to you, madam, and respectful to Mr. O'Hara: may you be happy together!
And he led her out—Was ever such a condescension! He led her out to her husband, who, being a little recovered, was just about to give some money to the servant, who was retiring from the offer.—Nobody, said my guardian, graciously smiling, pays my servants but myself, Mr. O'Hara. They are good people, and merit my favour.
And he went to the very door with my mother. I could not. I ran back, crying for joy, into the drawing-room, when they went out of it. I could not bear myself. How could I, you know, madam?—Captain Salmonet all the time wiped his eyes, shrugged his shoulders, lifted up his hands, and cried out upon Jesu; and once or twice he crossed himself: but all the time my guardian looked and acted, as if those actions and praises were nothing to be proud of.
When he came in to me, I arose, and threw myself at his feet; but could only say, Thank you, sir, for your goodness to my mother. He raised me. He sat down by me: See, child, (said he, and he took my hand: my heart was sensible of the favour, and throbbed with joy,) what it is in the power of people of fortune to do. You have a great one. Now your mother is married, I have hopes of her. They will at least keep up appearances to each other, and to the world. They neither of them want sense. You have done an act of duty and benevolence both in one. The man who would grudge them this additional 200£. a year out of your fortune, to make your parent happy, shall not have my Emily—Shall he?
Your Emily, your happy Emily, sir, has not, cannot have a heart that is worth notice, if it be not implicitly guided by you.—This I said, madam: and it is true.
And did he not, said I, clasp his Emily to his generous bosom, when you said so?
No, madam; that would have been too great an honour: but he called me, good child! and said, you shall never be put to pay me an implicit regard: your own reason (and he called me child again) shall always be the judge of my conduct to you, and direct your observances of my advice. Something like this he said; but in a better manner than I can say it.
He calls me oftener child, madam, than any thing else when we are alone together; and is not quite so free, I think, at such times, in his behaviour to me, (yet is vastly gracious, I don't know how,) as when we are in company—Why is that? I am sure, I equally respect him, at one time as at another—Do you think, madam, there is any thing in the observation? Is there any reason for it?—I do love to study him, and to find out the meaning of his very looks as well as words. Sir Charles Grandison's heart is the book of heaven—May I not study it?
Study it, my love! while you have an opportunity. But he will soon leave us: he will soon leave England.
So I fear: and I will love and pity the poor Clementina, whose heart is so much wounded and oppressed. But my guardian shall be nobody's but yours. I have prayed night and day, the first thing and the last thing, ever since I have heard of Lady Clementina, that you, and nobody but you, may be Lady Grandison: and I will continue my prayers.—But will you forgive me: I always conclude them with praying, that you will both consent to let the poor Emily live with you.
Sweet girl! The poor Emily, said she?—I embraced her, and we mingled tears, both our hearts full, each for the other; and each perhaps for herself.
She hurried away. I resumed my pen.—Run off what had passed, almost as swift as thought. I quit it to prepare to attend my cousins to St. James's-square.
LETTER XIV
MISS BYRON.—IN CONTINUATION WEDNESDAY NIGHT, APRIL 5
Miss Grandison, as I told you, took with her my letter of yesterday. As soon as my cousin Reeves and I entered Sir Charles's house, the two sisters conducted us into the drawing-room adjoining to the dining-parlour, and congratulated me on the high compliment their brother had made me, though in preference to themselves, and his communicativeness and tender behaviour to me. Lord L– joined us, and he, having read the letter, congratulated me also—On what, Lucy?—Why on the possibility, that if the unhappy Clementina should die; or if she should be buried for life in a nunnery; or if she should be otherwise disposed of; why then, that your Harriet may have room given her to hope for a civil husband in Sir Charles Grandison, and half a heart: Is not this the sum of these humbling congratulations?
Sir Charles, when we came, was in his study with Mr. Lowther, the surgeon whom he had engaged to go abroad with him: but he just came out to welcome us; and then returned.—He had also with him two physicians, eminent for their knowledge in disorders of the head, to whom he had before communicated the case of the unhappy Clementina; and who brought to him in writing their opinions of the manner in which she ought to be treated, according to the various symptoms of her disorder.
When he joined us, he told us this; and said very high things at the same time in praise of the English surgeons; and particularly of this gentleman: and added, that as nervous disorders were more frequent in England, than in any country in the world, he was willing to hope, that the English physicians were more skilful than those of any other country in the management of persons afflicted with such maladies: and as he was now invited over, he was determined to furnish himself with all the means he could think of, that were likely to be useful in restoring and healing friends so dear to him.
Miss Grandison told him, that we were all in some apprehensions, on his going to ltaly, of that fierce and wrong-headed man the general. Miss Byron, said she, has told us, that Mrs. Beaumont advises not your going over.
The young Marquis della Porretta, said he, is hasty; but he is a gallant man, and loves his sister. His grief on the unhappy situation they are in demands allowance. It is natural in a heavy calamity to look out of ourselves for the occasion. I have not any apprehensions from him, or from any body else. The call upon me is a proper one. The issue must be left where it ought to be left. If my visit will give comfort to any one of the family, I shall be rewarded: If to more than one, happy—And, whatever be the event, shall be easier in myself, than I could be, were I not to comply with the request of the bishop, were he only to have made it.
Lord L– asked Sir Charles, whether he had fixed the day of his setting out?
I have, said he, within this half hour. Mr. Lowther has told me, that he shall be ready by the beginning of next week; and on Saturday sennight I hope to be at Dover, on my way.
We looked upon one another. Miss Grandison told me afterwards, that my colour went and came several times, and that she was afraid for me. My heart was indeed a little affected. I believe I must not think of taking leave of him when he sets out. Ah, Lucy! Nine days hence!—Yet, in less than nine days after that, I shall be embraced by the tenderest relations that ever creature had to boast of.
Sir Charles taking his sister aside, I want, said he, to say a few words to you, Charlotte. They were about half an hour together; and then returning, I am encouraged to think, said he, that Charlotte will give her hand to Lord G–. She is a woman of honour, and her heart must therefore go with it.—I have a request to make to her, before all you our common friends—The Earl of G–, Lady Gertrude, Lord G–, all join in one suit: it is, that I may be allowed to give my sister to Lord G– before I leave England.
I have told you, brother, that it is impossible, if you go away in nine or ten days time.
Sir Charles particularly requested my influence. I could have no doubt, I said, but Miss Grandison would oblige her brother.
She vehemently opposed so early a day.
In a most affectionate manner, yet with an air of seriousness, he urged his request. He said, that it was very proper for him to make some dispositions of his affairs before he went abroad. He should leave England with much more pleasure, if he saw his Charlotte the wife of a man so worthy as Lord G–: Lord G–, said he, adores you: You intended to be his: Resolve to oblige your brother, who, though he cannot be happy himself, wishes to see you so.
O, Sir Charles! said she, you ruin me by your solemnity, and by your goodness.
The subject is not a light one. I am greatly in earnest, Charlotte. I have many affairs on my hands. My heart is in this company; yet my engagements will permit me but few opportunities to enjoy it between this and Tuesday next. If you deny me now, I must acquiesce: If you have more than punctilio to plead, say you have; and I will not urge you farther.
And so this is the last time of asking, sir? A little archly—
Not the last time of my Lord G–'s, but of mine—But I will not allow you now to answer me lightly. If you can name a day before Tuesday, you will greatly oblige me. I will leave you to consider of it. And he withdrew.
Every one then urged her to oblige her brother. Lady L– very particularly. She told her, that he was entitled to her compliance; and that he had spoken to her on this subject in a still more earnest manner. She should hardly be able to excuse her, she said, if the serious hint he had given about settling his affairs before he went abroad, had not weight with her. You know, Charlotte, continued she, that he can have no motive but your good; and you have told me, that you intend to have Lord G–; and that you esteem his father, his aunt, and every one of his family, whom you have seen; and they are all highly pleased with you. Settlements are already drawn: that my brother told you last night. Nothing is wanting but your day.
I wish he was in half the hurry to be married himself.
So he would be, I dare say, if marriage were as much in his power, as it is in yours.
What a deuse, to be married to a man in a week's time, with whom I have quarrelled every day for a fortnight past!—Pride and petulance must go down by degrees, sister. A month, at least, is necessary, to bring my features to such a placidness with him, as to allow him to smile in my face.
Your brother has hinted, Charlotte, said I, that he loves you for your vivacity; and should still more, if you consulted time and occasion.
He has withdrawn, sister, said Lord L–, with a resolution, if you deny him, to urge you no further.
I hate his peremptoriness.
Has he not told you, Charlotte, said I, and that in a manner so serious, as to affect every body, that there is a kind of necessity for it?
I don't love this Clementina, Harriet: all this is owing to her.
Just then a rapping at the door signified visitors; and Emily ran in—
Lord G–, the Earl, and Lady Gertrude, believe me!
Miss Grandison changed colour. A contrivance of my brother's!—Ah, Lord!
Now shall I be beset!—I will be sullen, that I may not be saucy.
Sullen you can't be, Charlotte, said Lady L–: but saucy you can. Remember, however, my brother's earnestness, and spare Lord G– before his father and aunt, or you will give me, and every body, pain.
How can I? Our last quarrel is not made up: but advise him not to be either impertinent or secure.
Immediately enter'd Sir Charles, introducing the Earl and Lady Gertrude. After the first compliments, Pray, Sir Charles, said Miss Grandison, drawing him aside, towards me, and whispering, tell me truly: Did you not know of this visit?
I invited them, Charlotte, whispered he. I meant not however to surprise you. If you comply, you will give me great pleasure: if you do not, I will not be dis-pleased with my sister.
What can I do? Either be less good to me, sir, or less hurrying.
You have sacrificed enough to female punctilio, Charlotte. Lord G– has been a zealous courtier. You have no doubt of the ardor of his passion, nor of your own power. Leave the day to me. Let it be Tuesday next.
Good heaven! I can't bear you, after such a—and she gasped, as if for breath; and he turning from her to me, she went to Lady Gertrude, who, rising, took her hand, and withdrew with her into the next room.
They staid out till they were told dinner was served: and when they returned, I thought I never saw Miss Grandison look so lovely. A charming flush had overspread her cheeks: a sweet consciousness in her eyes gave a female grace to her whole aspect, and softened, as I may say, the natural majesty of her fine features.
Lord G– looked delighted, as if his heart were filled with happy presages. The earl seemed no less pleased.
Miss Grandison was unusually thoughtful all dinnertime: she gave me great joy to see her so, in the hope, that when the lover becomes the husband, the over-lively mistress will be sunk in the obliging wife.—And yet, now and then, as the joy in my lord's heart overflowed at his lips, I could observe that archness rising to her eye, that makes one both love and fear her.
After dinner, the Earl of G– and Lady Gertrude desired a conference with Sir Charles and Lady L–. They were not long absent, when Sir Charles came in, and carried out Miss Grandison to them. Lord G–'s complexion varied often.
Sir Charles left them together, and joined us. We were standing; and he singled me out—I hope, madam, said he, that Charlotte may be prevailed upon for Tuesday next: but I will not urge it further.
I thought that he was framing himself to say something particular to me, when Lady L– came in, and desired him and me to step to her sister, who had retired from the Earl and Lady Gertrude, by consent.
Ah, my Harriet! said she, pity me, my dear!—Debasement is the child of pride!—Then turning to Sir Charles, I acknowledge myself overcome, said she, by your earnestness, as you are so soon to leave us; and by the importunities of the Earl of G–, Lady Gertrude, and my sister— Unprepared in mind, in clothes, I am resolved to oblige the best of brothers. Do you, sir, dispose of me as you think fit.
My sister consents, sir, said Lady L–, for next Tuesday.
Cheerfully, I hope. If Charlotte balances whether, if she took more time, she should have Lord G– at all, let her take it. Lord L–, in my absence, will be to her all that I wish to be, when she shall determine.
I balance not, sir: but I thought to have had a month's time, at least, to look about me, and having treated Lord G– too flippantly, to give him by degrees some fairer prospects of happiness with me, than hitherto he has had.
Sir Charles embraced her. She was all his sister, he said. Let the alteration now begin. Lord G– would rejoice in it, and consider all that had passed, as trials only of his love for her. The obliging wife would banish from his remembrance the petulant mistress. And now, allow me, my dear sister, to present you to the Earl and Lady Gertrude.
He led her in to them. Lady L– took my hand, and led me in also.—
Charlotte, my lord, yields to yours and Lady Gertrude's importunities.
Next Tuesday will give the two families a near and tender relation to each other.
The earl saluted her in a very affectionate manner: so did Lady Gertrude; who afterwards ran out for her nephew: and, leading him in, presented him to Miss Grandison.
She had just time to whisper me, as he approached her; Ah, Harriet! now comes the worst part of the show.—He kneeled on one knee, kissed her hand: but was too much overjoyed to speak; for Lady Gertrude had told him, as she led him in, that Tuesday was to be his happy day.
It is impossible, Lucy, but Sir Charles Grandison must carry every point he sets his heart upon. When he shall appear before the family of Porretta in Italy, who will be able to withstand him?—Is not his consequence doubled, more than doubled, since he was with them? The man whose absence they requested, they now invite to come among them. They have tried every experiment to restore their Clementina: he has a noble estate now in possession. The fame of his goodness is gone out to distant countries. O my dear! All opposition must fly before him. And if it be the will of Heaven to restore Clementina, all her friends must concur in giving her to him upon the terms he has proposed; and from which, having himself proposed them, Sir Charles Grandison cannot recede.
