University of Virginia Library

7. CHAPTER VII.

A month now passed in the ordinary avocations
and amusements of a country life,
and during which, both Lady Moseley and
Jane manifested a desire to keep up the
Deanery acquaintance, that surprised Emily
a little, who had ever seen her mother shrink
from communications with those whose breeding
subjected her own delicacy, to the little
shocks she could but ill conceal. And in
Jane it was yet more inexplicable; for Jane
had, in a decided way very common to her,
avowed her disgust of the manners of these
new associates on their first acquaintance;
and yet Jane would now even quit her own
society for that of Miss Jarvis, especially—if
Colonel Egerton were of the party. The innocence
of Emily prevented her scanning the
motives which could induce such a change
in the conduct of her sister; and she set seriously
about an examination into her own
deportment to find the latent cause, and
wherever opportunity offered, to evince the
tenderness of her own affections.

For a short time, the colonel had seemed
at a loss where to make his choice; but a few
days determined him, and Jane was now
evidently the favourite. It is true, that in the
presence of the Jarvis ladies, he was more
guarded and general in his attentions; but

as John, from a motive of charity, had taken
the direction of the captain's sports into his
own hands; and as they were in the frequent
habit of meeting at the Hall, preparatory to
their morning excursions, the colonel suddenly
became a sportsman. The ladies would
often accompany them in their morning
rides; and as John would certainly be a baronet,
and the colonel might not if his uncle
married, he had the comfort of being sometimes
ridden, as well as of riding.

One morning, having all prepared for an
excursion on horseback, as they stood at the
door ready to mount, Francis Ives drove up
in his father's gig, and for a moment arrested
their progress. Francis was a favourite with
the whole Moseley family, and their greetings
were warm and sincere. He found they
meant to take the Rectory in their ride, and
insisted that they should proceed. “Clara
would take a seat with him;” as he
spoke, the cast of his countenance brought
the colour into the cheeks of his intended,
who suffered herself to be handed into the
vacant seat of the gig, and they moved on.
John, who was at the bottom good-natured,
and loved both Francis and Clara very sincerely,
soon set Captain Jarvis and his sister
what he called “scrub racing,” and necessity,
in some measure, compelled the
equestrians to ride fast to keep up with the
sports. “That will do, that will do,” cried
John, casting his eye back, and perceiving

they had lost sight of the gig, and almost of
Colonel Egerton and Jane, “why you ride
like a jockey, captain; better than any amateur
I have ever seen, unless indeed it be
your sister;” and the lady, encouraged by
his commendations, whipped on, followed by
her brother and sister at half speed.

“There, Emily,” said John, as he quietly
dropped by her side, “I see no reason you
and I should break our necks, to show the
blood of our horses. Now do you know, I
think we are going to have a wedding in the
family soon?” Emily looked at him in
amazement, as he went on:

“Frank has got a living; I saw it the moment
he drove up. He came in like somebody.
Yes, I dare say he has calculated the
tythes a dozen times already.”

And John was right. The Earl of Bolton
had, unsolicited, given him the desired living
of his own parish; and Francis was at the
moment pressing the blushing Clara to fix
the day that was to put a period to his long
probation in love. Clara, who had no spice
of coquetry, promised to be his as soon as he
was inducted, which was to take place the
following week; and then followed those delightful
little arrangements and plans, with
which youthful hope is so fond of filling up
the voids in future life.

“Doctor,” said John, as he came out of
the rectory to assist Clara from the gig,
“the parson here is a careful driver; see, he

has not turn'd a hair.” He kissed the burning
cheek of his sister as she touched the
ground, and whispered significantly, “you
need tell me nothing, my dear—I know all—
I consent.”

Mrs. Ives folded her future daughter to
her bosom, as she crossed the threshold; and
the benevolent smile of the good rector,
together with the kind and affectionate
manner of her sisters, assured Clara the
approaching nuptials were anticipated as a
matter of course. Colonel Egerton offered
his compliments to Francis, on his preferment
to the living, with the polish of high
breeding, and not without the appearance of
interest in what he said; and Emily thought
him at that moment, for the first time, as
handsome as he was reputed generally. The
ladies undertook to say something civil in
their turn, and John put the captain, by a
hint, on the same track.

“You are quite lucky, sir,” said the captain,
“in getting so good a living with so
little trouble; and I wish you joy of it with
all my heart: Mr. Moseley tells me it is a
capital good thing.”

Francis thanked him for his good wishes,
and Egerton paid a handsome compliment to
the liberality of the earl; “he doubted not he
found that gratification which always attends
a disinterested act;” and Jane applauded
the sentiment with a smile.

The baronet, when on their return he was

made acquainted with the situation of affairs,
promised Francis that no unnecessary delay
should intervene, and the marriage was happily
arranged for the following week. Lady
Moseley, when she retired to the drawing
room after dinner with her sister and daughters,
commenced a recital of the ceremony
and company to be invited on the occasion.
Etiquette and the decencies of life were not
only the forte, but the fault of this lady; and
she had gone on to the enumeration of about
the fortieth personage in the ceremonials,
before Clara found courage to say, “that
Mr. Ives and myself both wished to be married
at the altar, and to proceed to Bolton
Rectory immediately after the ceremony.”
To this her mother warmly objected; and
argument and respectful remonstrance had
followed each other for some time, before
Clara submitted in silence, but with difficulty
restrained her tears. This appeal to the best
feelings of the mother triumphed; and she
yielded her love of splendour, to her love for
her offspring. Clara, with a lightened heart,
kissed and thanked her, and accompanied by
Emily, left the room. Jane had risen to follow
them, but catching a glimpse of the tilbury
of Colonel Egerton, re-seated herself,
calmly awaiting his entrance: “he had merely
driven over at the earnest entreaties of the
ladies, to beg Miss Jane would accept a seat
back with him; they had some little project on
foot, and could not proceed without her assistance.”
Mrs. Wilson looked gravely at
her sister, as she smiled acquiescence to his
wishes; and the daughter, who but the
minute before had forgotten there was any
other person in the world but Clara, flew for
her hat and shawl, in order, as she said to
herself, the politeness of Colonel Egerton
might not keep him in waiting for her. Lady
Moseley resumed her seat by the side of
her sister with an air of great complacency,
as having seen her daughter happily off, she
returned from the window. For some time,
each was occupied quietly with her needle,
for neither neglected their more useful employments
in that way, in compliance with
the fashions of the day, when Mrs. Wilson
suddenly broke the silence with saying,

“Who is Colonel Egerton?”

Lady Moseley looked up for a moment in
amazement, but recollecting herself, answered,
“nephew and heir of Sir Edgar Egerton,
sister.” This was spoken in a rather
positive way, as if it were to be unanswerable;
yet as there was nothing harsh in the
reply, Mrs. Wilson continued,

“Do you not think him attentive to Jane?”
Pleasure sparkled in the yet brilliant eyes of
Lady Moseley, as she exclaimed—

“Do you think so?”

“I do; and you will pardon me if I say,
improperly so. I think you were wrong in
suffering Jane to go with him this afternoon.”

“Why improperly so, Charlotte; and if
Colonel Egerton is polite enough to show
Jane such attentions, should I not be wrong
in rudely rejecting them?”

“The rudeness of refusing a request improper
to be granted, is a very venial offence,
I believe,” replied Mrs. Wilson, with a smile;
“and I confess I think it improper to allow
any attentions to be forced on us, that may
subject us to disagreeable consequences in any
way; but the attentions of Colonel Egerton
are becoming marked, Anne.”

“Do you for a moment doubt their being
honourable, or that he dares to trifle with a
daughter of Sir Edward Moseley?” said the
mother with a shade of indignation.

“I should hope not, certainly,” replied her
aunt, “although it may be well to guard
against such misfortunes too; but I am of
opinion it is quite as important, to know
whether he is worthy to be her husband, as
it is that he be serious in his intentions of
becoming so.”

“On what points, Charlotte, would you
wish to be more assured? You know his
birth and probable fortune—you see his manners
and disposition; but these latter, are
things for Jane to decide upon; she is to live
with him, and it is proper she should be suited
in these respects.”

“I do not deny his fortune or his disposition,
but I complain that we give him credit
for the last and more important requisites,

without evidence of his possessing them.
His principles, his habits, his very character,
what do we know of it? I say we, for you
know, Anne, that your children are as dear
to me as my own would have been.”

“I believe you sincerely,” said Lady
Mosley; “but these things you mention are
points for Jane to decide on; if she be pleased,
I have no right to complain. I am determined
never to controul the affections of my
children.”

“Had you said, never to force the affections
of your children, you would have said
enough, Anne; but, to controul, or rather
guide the affections of a child, especially a
daughter, is a duty in some cases, as imperious
as it would be to avert any other impending
calamity. Surely the time to do
this, is before the affections of the child are
likely to endanger her peace of mind.”

“I have seldom seen much good result
from this interference of the parents,” said
Lady Moseley, adhering to her opinions.

“True; for to be of use, it should not be
seen, unless in extraordinary cases. You
will pardon me, Anne, but I have often
thought parents are generally in extremes;
either determined to make the election for
their children, or leaving them entirely to
their own flattered vanity and inexperience,
to govern not only their own lives, but I
may say, leave an impression on future generations.
And after all, what is this love?

nineteen cases in twenty of what we call
affairs of the heart would be better termed
affairs of the imagination.”

“And, is there not a great deal of imagination
in all love?” inquired Lady Moseley,
with a smile.

“Undoubtedly there is some; but there is
one difference, which I take to be this: in
affairs of the imagination, the admired object
is gifted with all those qualities we esteem,
as a matter of course, and there is a certain
set of females who are ever ready to bestow
this admiration on any applicant for their favours,
who may not be strikingly objectionable;
the necessity of being courted, makes our
sex rather too much disposed to admire improper
suitors.”

“But how do you distinguish affairs of the
heart, Charlotte?”

“Those in which the heart takes the lead—
these generally follow from long intercourse,
or the opportunity of judging the real character—and
are the only ones that are likely
to stand the test of worldly trials.”

“Suppose Emily to be the object of Colonel
Egerton's pursuit, then, sister, in what
manner would you proceed to destroy the
influence I acknowledge he is gaining over
Jane?”

“I cannot suppose such a case,” said Mrs.
Wilson, gravely, and then observing her sister
to look, as if requiring an explanation, she
continued—

“My attention has been directed to the
forming of such principles, and such a taste,
if I may use the expression, under these principles,
that I feel no apprehension that Emily
will ever allow her affections to be ensnared
by a man of the evident opinions and views
of Colonel Egerton. I am impressed with a
two fold duty in watching the feelings of my
charge; she has so much singleness of heart,
such real strength of pure native feeling, that
should an improper man gain possession of
her affections, the struggle between her duty
and her love would be weighty indeed, but
should it have proceeded so far as to make it
her duty to love an unworthy object, I am
sure she would sink under it; but Jane would
only awake from a dream, and, for a while,
be wretched.”

“I thought you entertained a better opinion
of Jane, sister,” said Lady Moseley,
reproachfully.

“I think her admirably calculated by nature
to make an invaluable wife and mother;
but she is so much under the influence of her
fancy, that it is seldom she gives her heart an
opportunity of displaying its excellencies;
and again, she dwells so much upon imaginary
perfections, that adulation has become
necessary to her. The man who flatters her
delicately, will be sure to win her esteem; and
every woman might then love the being possessed
of the qualities she will not fail to
endow him with.”

“I do not know, that I rightly understand
how you would avert all these sad consequences
of improvident affections?” said
Lady Moseley.

“Prevention is better than cure—I would
first implant such opinions as would lessen
the danger of intercourse; and as for particular
attentions from improper objects, it
should be my care to prevent them, by prohibiting,
or rather impeding, the intimacy
which might give rise to them. And, least
of all,” said Mrs. Wilson, with a friendly
smile, as she rose to leave the room, “would
I suffer a fear of being impolite to endanger
the happiness of a young woman entrusted
to my care.”