Love and Friendship, and Other Early Works - Jane Austen (ebook offline reader .TXT) 📗

class="calibre1">had been the only reason of his having so long concealed the

violence of his affection for Janetta, on receiving this Billet

flew on the wings of Love to Macdonald-Hall, and so powerfully

pleaded his Attachment to her who inspired it, that after a few

more private interveiws, Sophia and I experienced the

satisfaction of seeing them depart for Gretna-Green, which they

chose for the celebration of their Nuptials, in preference to any

other place although it was at a considerable distance from

Macdonald-Hall.

Adeiu

Laura.

 

LETTER the 13th

LAURA in continuation

 

They had been gone nearly a couple of Hours, before either

Macdonald or Graham had entertained any suspicion of the affair.

And they might not even then have suspected it, but for the

following little Accident. Sophia happening one day to open a

private Drawer in Macdonald’s Library with one of her own keys,

discovered that it was the Place where he kept his Papers of

consequence and amongst them some bank notes of considerable

amount. This discovery she imparted to me; and having agreed

together that it would be a proper treatment of so vile a Wretch

as Macdonald to deprive him of money, perhaps dishonestly gained,

it was determined that the next time we should either of us

happen to go that way, we would take one or more of the Bank

notes from the drawer. This well meant Plan we had often

successfully put in Execution; but alas! on the very day of

Janetta’s Escape, as Sophia was majestically removing the 5th

Banknote from the Drawer to her own purse, she was suddenly most

impertinently interrupted in her employment by the entrance of

Macdonald himself, in a most abrupt and precipitate Manner.

Sophia (who though naturally all winning sweetness could when

occasions demanded it call forth the Dignity of her sex)

instantly put on a most forbidding look, and darting an angry

frown on the undaunted culprit, demanded in a haughty tone of

voice “Wherefore her retirement was thus insolently broken in

on?” The unblushing Macdonald, without even endeavouring to

exculpate himself from the crime he was charged with, meanly

endeavoured to reproach Sophia with ignobly defrauding him of his

money … The dignity of Sophia was wounded; “Wretch (exclaimed

she, hastily replacing the Banknote in the Drawer) how darest

thou to accuse me of an Act, of which the bare idea makes me

blush?” The base wretch was still unconvinced and continued to

upbraid the justly-offended Sophia in such opprobious Language,

that at length he so greatly provoked the gentle sweetness of her

Nature, as to induce her to revenge herself on him by informing

him of Janetta’s Elopement, and of the active Part we had both

taken in the affair. At this period of their Quarrel I entered

the Library and was as you may imagine equally offended as Sophia

at the ill-grounded accusations of the malevolent and

contemptible Macdonald. “Base Miscreant! (cried I) how canst

thou thus undauntedly endeavour to sully the spotless reputation

of such bright Excellence? Why dost thou not suspect MY

innocence as soon?” “Be satisfied Madam (replied he) I DO suspect

it, and therefore must desire that you will both leave this House

in less than half an hour.”

 

“We shall go willingly; (answered Sophia) our hearts have long

detested thee, and nothing but our freindship for thy Daughter

could have induced us to remain so long beneath thy roof.”

 

“Your Freindship for my Daughter has indeed been most powerfully

exerted by throwing her into the arms of an unprincipled Fortune-hunter.” (replied he)

 

“Yes, (exclaimed I) amidst every misfortune, it will afford us

some consolation to reflect that by this one act of Freindship to

Janetta, we have amply discharged every obligation that we have

received from her father.”

 

“It must indeed be a most gratefull reflection, to your exalted

minds.” (said he.)

 

As soon as we had packed up our wardrobe and valuables, we left

Macdonald Hall, and after having walked about a mile and a half

we sate down by the side of a clear limpid stream to refresh our

exhausted limbs. The place was suited to meditation. A grove of

full-grown Elms sheltered us from the East—. A Bed of full-grown Nettles from the West—. Before us ran the murmuring brook

and behind us ran the turn-pike road. We were in a mood for

contemplation and in a Disposition to enjoy so beautifull a spot.

A mutual silence which had for some time reigned between us, was

at length broke by my exclaiming—“What a lovely scene! Alas why

are not Edward and Augustus here to enjoy its Beauties with us?”

 

“Ah! my beloved Laura (cried Sophia) for pity’s sake forbear

recalling to my remembrance the unhappy situation of my

imprisoned Husband. Alas, what would I not give to learn the

fate of my Augustus! to know if he is still in Newgate, or if he

is yet hung. But never shall I be able so far to conquer my

tender sensibility as to enquire after him. Oh! do not I

beseech you ever let me again hear you repeat his beloved name—.

It affects me too deeply —. I cannot bear to hear him mentioned

it wounds my feelings.”

 

“Excuse me my Sophia for having thus unwillingly offended you—”

replied I—and then changing the conversation, desired her to

admire the noble Grandeur of the Elms which sheltered us from the

Eastern Zephyr. “Alas! my Laura (returned she) avoid so

melancholy a subject, I intreat you. Do not again wound my

Sensibility by observations on those elms. They remind me of

Augustus. He was like them, tall, magestic—he possessed that

noble grandeur which you admire in them.”

 

I was silent, fearfull lest I might any more unwillingly distress

her by fixing on any other subject of conversation which might

again remind her of Augustus.

 

“Why do you not speak my Laura? (said she after a short pause)

“I cannot support this silence you must not leave me to my own

reflections; they ever recur to Augustus.”

 

“What a beautifull sky! (said I) How charmingly is the azure

varied by those delicate streaks of white!”

 

“Oh! my Laura (replied she hastily withdrawing her Eyes from a

momentary glance at the sky) do not thus distress me by calling

my Attention to an object which so cruelly reminds me of my

Augustus’s blue sattin waistcoat striped in white! In pity to

your unhappy freind avoid a subject so distressing.” What could I

do? The feelings of Sophia were at that time so exquisite, and

the tenderness she felt for Augustus so poignant that I had not

power to start any other topic, justly fearing that it might in

some unforseen manner again awaken all her sensibility by

directing her thoughts to her Husband. Yet to be silent would be

cruel; she had intreated me to talk.

 

From this Dilemma I was most fortunately releived by an accident

truly apropos; it was the lucky overturning of a Gentleman’s

Phaeton, on the road which ran murmuring behind us. It was a

most fortunate accident as it diverted the attention of Sophia

from the melancholy reflections which she had been before

indulging. We instantly quitted our seats and ran to the rescue

of those who but a few moments before had been in so elevated a

situation as a fashionably high Phaeton, but who were now laid

low and sprawling in the Dust. “What an ample subject for

reflection on the uncertain Enjoyments of this World, would not

that Phaeton and the Life of Cardinal Wolsey afford a thinking

Mind!” said I to Sophia as we were hastening to the field of

Action.

 

She had not time to answer me, for every thought was now engaged

by the horrid spectacle before us. Two Gentlemen most elegantly

attired but weltering in their blood was what first struck our

Eyes—we approached—they were Edward and Augustus—. Yes dearest

Marianne they were our Husbands. Sophia shreiked and fainted on

the ground—I screamed and instantly ran mad—. We remained thus

mutually deprived of our senses, some minutes, and on regaining

them were deprived of them again. For an Hour and a Quarter did

we continue in this unfortunate situation—Sophia fainting every

moment and I running mad as often. At length a groan from the

hapless Edward (who alone retained any share of life) restored us

to ourselves. Had we indeed before imagined that either of them

lived, we should have been more sparing of our Greif—but as we

had supposed when we first beheld them that they were no more, we

knew that nothing could remain to be done but what we were about.

No sooner did we therefore hear my Edward’s groan than postponing

our lamentations for the present, we hastily ran to the Dear

Youth and kneeling on each side of him implored him not to die—.

“Laura (said He fixing his now languid Eyes on me) I fear I have

been overturned.”

 

I was overjoyed to find him yet sensible.

 

“Oh! tell me Edward (said I) tell me I beseech you before you

die, what has befallen you since that unhappy Day in which

Augustus was arrested and we were separated—”

 

“I will” (said he) and instantly fetching a deep sigh, Expired

—. Sophia immediately sank again into a swoon—. MY greif was

more audible. My Voice faltered, My Eyes assumed a vacant stare,

my face became as pale as Death, and my senses were considerably

impaired—.

 

“Talk not to me of Phaetons (said I, raving in a frantic,

incoherent manner)—Give me a violin—. I’ll play to him and

sooth him in his melancholy Hours—Beware ye gentle Nymphs of

Cupid’s Thunderbolts, avoid the piercing shafts of Jupiter—Look

at that grove of Firs—I see a Leg of Mutton—They told me Edward

was not Dead; but they deceived me—they took him for a cucumber

—” Thus I continued wildly exclaiming on my Edward’s Death—.

For two Hours did I rave thus madly and should not then have left

off, as I was not in the least fatigued, had not Sophia who was

just recovered from her swoon, intreated me to consider that

Night was now approaching and that the Damps began to fall. “And

whither shall we go (said I) to shelter us from either?” “To

that white Cottage.” (replied she pointing to a neat Building

which rose up amidst the grove of Elms and which I had not before

observed—) I agreed and we instantly walked to it—we knocked at

the door—it was opened by an old woman; on being requested to

afford us a Night’s Lodging, she informed us that her House was

but small, that she had only two Bedrooms, but that However we

should be wellcome to one of them. We were satisfied and

followed the good woman into the House where we were greatly

cheered by the sight of a comfortable fire—. She was a widow

and had only one Daughter, who was then just seventeen—One of

the best of ages; but alas! she was very plain and her name was

Bridget… . . Nothing therfore could be expected from her—she

could not be supposed to possess either exalted Ideas, Delicate

Feelings or refined Sensibilities—. She was nothing more than a

mere good-tempered, civil and obliging young woman; as such we

could scarcely dislike here—she was only an Object of Contempt

—.

Adeiu

Laura.

 

LETTER the 14th

LAURA in continuation

 

Arm yourself my amiable young Freind with all the philosophy you

are Mistress of; summon up all the fortitude you possess, for

alas! in the perusal of the following Pages your sensibility

will be most severely tried. Ah! what were the misfortunes I

had before experienced and which I have already related to you,

to the one I am now going to inform you of. The Death of my