Lady Susan - Jane Austen (best ebook reader for laptop .TXT) 📗

renown. I am excessively provoked, however, at the parade of

propriety which prevented Miss Summers from keeping the girl; and it seems

so extraordinary a piece of nicety, considering my daughter’s family

connections, that I can only suppose the lady to be governed by the fear of

never getting her money. Be that as it may, however, Frederica is returned

on my hands; and, having nothing else to employ her, is busy in pursuing

the plan of romance begun at Langford. She is actually falling in love with

Reginald De Courcy! To disobey her mother by refusing an unexceptionable

offer is not enough; her affections must also be given without her mother’s

approbation. I never saw a girl of her age bid fairer to be the sport of

mankind. Her feelings are tolerably acute, and she is so charmingly artless

in their display as to afford the most reasonable hope of her being

ridiculous, and despised by every man who sees her.

 

Artlessness will never do in love matters; and that girl is born a

simpleton who has it either by nature or affectation. I am not yet certain

that Reginald sees what she is about, nor is it of much consequence. She is

now an object of indifference to him, and she would be one of contempt were

he to understand her emotions. Her beauty is much admired by the Vernons,

but it has no effect on him. She is in high favour with her aunt

altogether, because she is so little like myself, of course. She is exactly

the companion for Mrs. Vernon, who dearly loves to be firm, and to have

all the sense and all the wit of the conversation to herself: Frederica

will never eclipse her. When she first came I was at some pains to prevent

her seeing much of her aunt; but I have relaxed, as I believe I may depend

on her observing the rules I have laid down for their discourse. But do not

imagine that with all this lenity I have for a moment given up my plan of

her marriage. No; I am unalterably fixed on this point, though I have not

yet quite decided on the manner of bringing it about. I should not chuse to

have the business brought on here, and canvassed by the wise heads of Mr.

and Mrs. Vernon; and I cannot just now afford to go to town. Miss Frederica

must therefore wait a little.

 

Yours ever,

 

S. VERNON.

XX

MRS. VERNON TO LADY DE COURCY

 

Churchhill

 

We have a very unexpected guest with us at present, my dear Mother: he

arrived yesterday. I heard a carriage at the door, as I was sitting with my

children while they dined; and supposing I should be wanted, left the

nursery soon afterwards, and was half-way downstairs, when Frederica, as

pale as ashes, came running up, and rushed by me into her own room. I

instantly followed, and asked her what was the matter. “Oh!” said she, “he

is come—Sir James is come, and what shall I do?” This was no explanation;

I begged her to tell me what she meant. At that moment we were interrupted

by a knock at the door: it was Reginald, who came, by Lady Susan’s

direction, to call Frederica down. “It is Mr. De Courcy!” said she,

colouring violently. “Mamma has sent for me; I must go.” We all three went

down together; and I saw my brother examining the terrified face of

Frederica with surprize. In the breakfast-room we found Lady Susan, and a

young man of gentlemanlike appearance, whom she introduced by the name of

Sir James Martin—the very person, as you may remember, whom it was said

she had been at pains to detach from Miss Mainwaring; but the conquest, it

seems, was not designed for herself, or she has since transferred it to her

daughter; for Sir James is now desperately in love with Frederica, and with

full encouragement from mamma. The poor girl, however, I am sure, dislikes

him; and though his person and address are very well, he appears, both to

Mr. Vernon and me, a very weak young man. Frederica looked so shy, so

confused, when we entered the room, that I felt for her exceedingly. Lady

Susan behaved with great attention to her visitor; and yet I thought I

could perceive that she had no particular pleasure in seeing him. Sir James

talked a great deal, and made many civil excuses to me for the liberty he

had taken in coming to Churchhill—mixing more frequent laughter with his

discourse than the subject required—said many things over and over again,

and told Lady Susan three times that he had seen Mrs. Johnson a few

evenings before. He now and then addressed Frederica, but more frequently

her mother. The poor girl sat all this time without opening her lips—her

eyes cast down, and her colour varying every instant; while Reginald

observed all that passed in perfect silence. At length Lady Susan, weary, I

believe, of her situation, proposed walking; and we left the two gentlemen

together, to put on our pelisses. As we went upstairs Lady Susan begged

permission to attend me for a few moments in my dressing-room, as she was

anxious to speak with me in private. I led her thither accordingly, and as

soon as the door was closed, she said: “I was never more surprized in my

life than by Sir James’s arrival, and the suddenness of it requires some

apology to you, my dear sister; though to ME, as a mother, it is highly

flattering. He is so extremely attached to my daughter that he could not

exist longer without seeing her. Sir James is a young man of an amiable

disposition and excellent character; a little too much of the rattle,

perhaps, but a year or two will rectify THAT: and he is in other respects

so very eligible a match for Frederica, that I have always observed his

attachment with the greatest pleasure; and am persuaded that you and my

brother will give the alliance your hearty approbation. I have never

before mentioned the likelihood of its taking place to anyone, because I

thought that whilst Frederica continued at school it had better not be

known to exist; but now, as I am convinced that Frederica is too old ever

to submit to school confinement, and have, therefore, begun to consider her

union with Sir James as not very distant, I had intended within a few days

to acquaint yourself and Mr. Vernon with the whole business. I am sure, my

dear sister, you will excuse my remaining silent so long, and agree with me

that such circumstances, while they continue from any cause in suspense,

cannot be too cautiously concealed. When you have the happiness of

bestowing your sweet little Catherine, some years hence, on a man who in

connection and character is alike unexceptionable, you will know what I

feel now; though, thank Heaven, you cannot have all my reasons for

rejoicing in such an event. Catherine will be amply provided for, and not,

like my Frederica, indebted to a fortunate establishment for the comforts

of life.” She concluded by demanding my congratulations. I gave them

somewhat awkwardly, I believe; for, in fact, the sudden disclosure of so

important a matter took from me the power of speaking with any clearness,

She thanked me, however, most affectionately, for my kind concern in the

welfare of herself and daughter; and then said: “I am not apt to deal in

professions, my dear Mrs. Vernon, and I never had the convenient talent of

affecting sensations foreign to my heart; and therefore I trust you will

believe me when I declare, that much as I had heard in your praise before I

knew you, I had no idea that I should ever love you as I now do; and I must

further say that your friendship towards me is more particularly gratifying

because I have reason to believe that some attempts were made to prejudice

you against me. I only wish that they, whoever they are, to whom I am

indebted for such kind intentions, could see the terms on which we now are

together, and understand the real affection we feel for each other; but I

will not detain you any longer. God bless you, for your goodness to me and

my girl, and continue to you all your present happiness.” What can one say

of such a woman, my dear mother? Such earnestness such solemnity of

expression! and yet I cannot help suspecting the truth of everything she

says. As for Reginald, I believe he does not know what to make of the

matter. When Sir James came, he appeared all astonishment and perplexity;

the folly of the young man and the confusion of Frederica entirely

engrossed him; and though a little private discourse with Lady Susan has

since had its effect, he is still hurt, I am sure, at her allowing of such

a man’s attentions to her daughter. Sir James invited himself with great

composure to remain here a few days—hoped we would not think it odd, was

aware of its being very impertinent, but he took the liberty of a relation;

and concluded by wishing, with a laugh, that he might be really one very

soon. Even Lady Susan seemed a little disconcerted by this forwardness; in

her heart I am persuaded she sincerely wished him gone. But something must

be done for this poor girl, if her feelings are such as both I and her

uncle believe them to be. She must not be sacrificed to policy or ambition,

and she must not be left to suffer from the dread of it. The girl whose

heart can distinguish Reginald De Courcy, deserves, however he may slight

her, a better fate than to be Sir James Martin’s wife. As soon as I can get

her alone, I will discover the real truth; but she seems to wish to avoid

me. I hope this does not proceed from anything wrong, and that I shall not

find out I have thought too well of her. Her behaviour to Sir James

certainly speaks the greatest consciousness and embarrassment, but I see

nothing in it more like encouragement. Adieu, my dear mother.

 

Yours, &c.,

 

C. VERNON.

XXI

MISS VERNON TO MR DE COURCY

 

Sir,—I hope you will excuse this liberty; I am forced upon it by the

greatest distress, or I should be ashamed to trouble you. I am very

miserable about Sir James Martin, and have no other way in the world of

helping myself but by writing to you, for I am forbidden even speaking to

my uncle and aunt on the subject; and this being the case, I am afraid my

applying to you will appear no better than equivocation, and as if I

attended to the letter and not the spirit of mamma’s commands. But if you

do not take my part and persuade her to break it off, I shall be half

distracted, for I cannot bear him. No human being but YOU could have any

chance of prevailing with her. If you will, therefore, have the unspeakably

great kindness of taking my part with her, and persuading her to send Sir

James away, I shall be more obliged to you than it is possible for me to

express. I always disliked him from the first: it is not a sudden fancy, I

assure you, sir; I always thought him silly and impertinent and

disagreeable, and now he is grown worse than ever. I would rather work for

my bread than marry him. I do not know how to apologize enough for this

letter; I know it is taking so great a liberty. I am aware how dreadfully

angry it will make mamma, but I remember the risk.

 

I am,