University of Virginia Library

11. CHAPTER XI.

The letters of Lady Laura informed her
friends, that herself and Col. Denbigh, had
decided to remain with his uncle, until his recovery
was perfect, and then proceed to Denbigh
Castle, to meet the Duke and his sister,
during the approaching holy-days.

Emily was much relieved by this postponement
of an interview, she would gladly have
avoided for ever; and her aunt sincerely rejoiced
that her niece was allowed more time
to eradicate impressions, she saw, with pain,
her charge had yet a struggle to overcome.

There were so many points to admire in the
character of Denbigh; his friends spoke of
him with such decided partiality; Dr. Ives, in
his frequent letters, alluded to him with so
much affection, that Emily had frequently
detected herself, in weighing the testimony of
his guilt, and indulging the expectation, that
circumstances had deceived them all, in their
judgment of his conduct. Then his marriage
would cross her mind, and, with the conviction
of the impropriety of admitting him to
her thoughts at all, would come the collective
mass of testimony, which had accumulated
against him.

Derwent served greatly to keep alive the
recollections of his person, however; and, as
Lady Harriet seemed to live only in the society

of the Moseley's, not a day passed without
giving the Duke some opportunity of indirectly
preferring his suit.

Emily not only appeared, but in fact was,
unconscious of his admiration, and entered
into their amusements with a satisfaction that
took its rise in the belief, the unfortunate
attachment her cousin Chatterton had once
professed for herself, was forgotten in the
more certain enjoyments of a successful love.

Lady Harriet was a woman of very different
manners and character from Emily
Moseley; yet, had she in a great measure
erased the impressions made by the beauty of
his kinswoman, from the bosom of the Baron.

Chatterton, under the depression of his
first disappointment, it will be remembered,
had left B—in company with Mr. Denbigh.

The interest of the Duke had been unaccountably
exerted to procure him the place
he had so long solicited in vain, and gratitude
required his early acknowledgments for
the favour.

His manner, so very different from a successful
applicant for a valuable office, had
struck both Derwent and his sister as singular.
Before, however, a week's intercourse
had passed between them, his own frankness,
had made them acquainted with the cause,
and a double wish prevailed in the bosom of
Lady Harriet--to know the woman who could

resist the beauty of Chatterton, and to relieve
him, from the weight imposed on his
spirits, by disappointed affection.

The manners of Lady Harriet Denbigh,
were not in the least forward or masculine;
but they had the freedom of high rank and
condition, with a good deal of the ease of
fashionable life.

Mrs. Wilson would have noticed, moreover,
in her conduct to Chatterton, a something
exceeding the interest of ordinary communications
in their situation, which might
possibly have been attributed to feeling, more
than manner. It is certain, one of his surest
methods to drive Emily from his thoughts,
was to dwell on the perfections of some other
lady; and Lady Harriet was so constantly
before him in his visit into Westmoreland—
so soothing—so evidently pleased with his
presence, that the Baron made rapid advances
in attaining his object.

He had alluded, in his letter to Emily, to
the obligation he was under to the services of
Denbigh, in erasing his unfortunate partiality
for her.—

But what those services were, we are unable
to say, unless the usual arguments of the
plainest dictates of good sense, on such occasions,
enforced in the singularly, insinuating,
and kind manner which distinguished that
gentleman. In fact, Lord Chatterton was
not formed by nature to lovelong, deprived
of hope---or to resist long, the flattery of a preference

from such a woman as Harriet Denbigh.

On the other hand, Derwent was warm in
his encomiums on Emily, to all but herself;
and Mrs. Wilson had again thought it prudent,
to examine into the state of her feelings, in order
to discover if there was danger of his unremitted
efforts to please, drawing Emily into
a connection, neither her religion or prudence
could wholly approve.

Derwent was a man of the world—and a
christian only in name; and the cautious widow
determined to withdraw in season,
should she find grounds, for her apprehensions
to rest upon.

It was about ten days after the departure of
the Dowager and her companions, that Lady
Harriet exclaimed, in one of her morning visits:—“Lady
Moseley! I have now hopes
of presenting to you soon, the most polished
nobleman in the kingdom?”

“As a husband! Lady Harriet?” inquired
the other, with a smile.

“Oh no!--only a cousin!--a second cousin!
madam!” replied Lady Harriet, blushing
a little, and looking in the opposite direction
to the one Chatterton was placed in.

“But his name?—You forget our curiosity!—What
is his name?” cried Mrs. Wilson;
entering into the trifling for the moment.

“Pendennyss, to be sure, my dear madam;
who else can I mean,” said Lady Harriet,
recovering her self-possession.

“And you expect the Earl at Bath?” said
Mrs. Wilson, eagerly.

“He has given us hopes—and Derwent
has written him to-day, pressing the journey,”
was the answer.

“You will be disappointed—I am afraid,
sister,” said the Duke. “Pendennyss has become
so fond of Wales of late, that it is difficult
to get him out of it.”

“But,” said Mrs. Wilson, “he will take
his seat in parliament during the winter, my
Lord?”

“I hope he will, madam; though Lord
Eltringham holds his proxies in my absence,
in all important questions before the house.”

“Your Grace will attend, I trust,” said
Sir Edward. “The pleasure of your company
is amongst my expected enjoyments in
the town.”

“You are very good, Sir Edward;” replied
the Duke, looking at Emily. “It will
somewhat depend on circumstances, I believe.”

Lady Harriet smiled, and the speech seemed
understood by all, but the lady most concerned
in it, as Mrs. Wilson proceeded:--

“Lord Pendennyss is an universal favourite”--“and
deservedly so,” cried the Duke.
“He has set an example to the nobility,
which few are equal to imitating. An
only son, with an immense estate,---he
has devoted himself to the profession of a soldier,
and gained great reputation by it in

the world; nor has he neglected any of his
private duties as a man—”

“Or a christian, I hope,” said Mrs. Wilson,
delighted with the praises of the earl.

“Nor of a christian, I believe,” continued
the duke; “he appears consistent, humble,
and sincere; three requisites, I believe, for
his profession.”

“Does not your grace know,” said Emily,
with a benevolent smile---Derwent coloured
slightly as he answered,

“Not as well as I ought; but”---lowering
his voice for her ear alone, he added, “under
proper instruction, I think I might learn.”

“Then I would recommend that book to
you, my lord,” rejoined Emily, with a blush,
pointing to a pocket bible which lay near
her, and still ignorant of the allusion he
meant to convey.

“May I ask the honour of an audience of
Miss Moseley,” said Derwent, in the same
low tone, “whenever her leisure will admit
of her granting the favour.”

Emily was surprised; but from the previous
conversation, and the current of her thoughts
at the moment, supposing his communication
had some reference to the subject before
them, rose from her chair, and unobtrusively,
but certainly with an air of perfect innocence
and composure, went into the adjoining room,
the door of which was open very near them.

Caroline Harris had abandoned all ideas of
a coronet, with the departure of the Marquess

of Eltringham and his sisters for their own
seat; and as a final effort of her fading charms,
had begun to calculate the capabilities of
Captain Jarvis, who had at this time honoured
Bath with his company.

It is true, the lady would have greatly preferred
her father's neighbour, but that was an irretrievable
step--he had retired, disgusted with
her haughty dismissal of his hopes, and was a
man who, although he greatly admired her
fortune, was not to be recalled by any beck
or smile which might grow out of her caprice.

Lady Jarvis had, indeed, rather magnified
the personal qualifications of her son,
but the disposition they had manifested, to devote
some of their surplus wealth, to the purchasing
a title, had great weight; for Miss
Harris would cheerfully, at any time, have sacrificed
one half her own fortune to be called
my lady. Jarvis would make but a shabby
looking lord, 'tis true; but then what a lord's
wife would she not make herself:---His
father was a merchant, to be sure, but then
merchants were always immensely rich, and
a few thousand pounds, properly applied,
might make the merchant's son a baron---
she therefore resolved to inquire, the first
opportunity, into the condition of the sinking
fund of his plebeianism---and had serious
thoughts of contributing her mite towards
the advancement of the desired object, did she
find it within the bounds of probable success.
An occasion soon offered, by the invitation of

the Captain, to accompany him, in an excursion
in the tilbury of his brother in law.

In this ride they passed the equipages of Lady
Harriet and Mrs. Wilson, with their respective
mistresses taking an airing. In passing
the latter, Jarvis had bowed, (for he had
renewed his acquaintance at the rooms without
daring to visit at the lodgings of Sir Edward,)
and Miss Harris had taken notice of
both parties as they dashed by them.

“You know the Moseleys, Caroline?” said
Jarvis, with the freedom her own and his
manners had established between them.

“Yes,” replied the lady, drawing her head
back from a view of the carriages, “what
fine arms those of the Duke's are---and the
coronet, it is so noble—so rich—I am sure if
I were a man,” laying great emphasis on the
word--“I would be a Lord.”

“If you could, you mean,” cried the Captain,
with a laugh.

“Could—why money will buy a title, you
know--only most people are fonder of their
cash than honour.”

“That's right,” said the unreflecting Captain,
“money is the thing after all--now what
do you suppose our last mess-bill came to?”

“Oh dont talk of eating and drinking,”
cried Miss Harris, in affected aversion, “it is
beneath the consideration of nobility.”

“Then any one may be a Lord for me,”
said Jarvis, drily, “if they are not to eat

and drink---why what do we live for, but
such sort of things.”

“A soldier lives to fight, and gain honour
and distinction”--for his wife—Miss Harris
would have added, had she spoken all she
thought.

“A poor way that, of spending a man's
time,” said the Captain; “now there is a Captain
Jones in our regiment, they say, loves
fighting as much as eating; but if he does,
he is a blood-thirsty fellow.”

“You know how intimate I am with your
dear mother,” continued the lady, bent on
her principal object, “she has made me acquainted
with her greatest wish.”

“Her greatest wish!” cried the Captain, in
astonishment, “why what can that be--a new
coach and horses?”

“No, I mean one much dearer to us--I
should say, her—than any such trifles; she
has told me of the plan.”

“Plan,” said Jarvis, still in wonder, “what
plan?”

“About the fund for the peerage, you
know—of course the thing is scared with me
—as, indeed, I am equally interested with
you all, in its success.”

Jarvis eyed her with a knowing look, and
as she concluded, rolling his eyes in an expression
of significance, he said—

“What, serve Sir William some such
way, eh?”

“I will assist a little, if it be necessary,

Henry,” said the lady, tenderly, “although
my mite cannot amount to a great deal.”

During this speech, the Captain was wondering
what she could mean, but, having
had a suspicion from something that had
fallen from his mother, the lady was intended
for him as a wife, and she might be
as great a dupe as the former, he was resolved
to know the whole, and act accordingly.

“I think it might be made to do,” he replied,
evasively, to discover the extent of his
companion's information.

“Do,” cried Miss Harris, with fervour,
“it cannot fail—how much do you suppose
will be wanting to buy a barony, for instance?”

“Hem!” said Jarvis, “you mean more
than we have already?”

“Certainly.”

“Why, about a thousand pounds, I think,
will do it, with what we have,” said Jarvis,
affecting to calculate.

“Is that all,” cried the delighted Caroline;
and the captain grew in an instant, in her estimation,
three inches higher;—quite noble in
his air, and, in short, very tolerably handsome.

From that moment, Miss Harris, in her
own mind, had fixed the fate of Captain Jarvis;
and had determined to be his wife,
whenever—she could persuade him to offer
himself—a thing she had no doubt of accomplishing
with comparative ease;—not so the

Captain—like all weak men, there was nothing
he stood more in terror of than ridicule;
he had heard the manœuvres of Miss Harris
laughed at by many of the young men in
Bath, and was by no means disposed to add
himself to the food for mirth to these wags;
and, indeed, had cultivated her acquaintance;
with a kind of bravado to some of his bottle
companions, of his ability to oppose all her
arts, when most exposed to them—for, it is
one of the greatest difficulties, to the success
of this description of ladies, that their
characters soon become suspected, and do
them infinitely more injury, than all their skill
in the art, does them good in their vocation.

With these views in the respective champions,
the campaign opened, and the lady on
her return, acquainted his mother, with the
situation of the privy purse, that was to promote
her darling child to the enviable distinction
of the peerage—indeed, Lady Jarvis
was for purchasing a baronetcy with what
they had, under the impression, that when
ready for another promotion, they would
only have to pay the difference, as they did
in the army, when he received his captaincy
---as, however, the son was opposed to any
arrangement, that might make the producing
the few hundred pounds he had obtained
from his mother's folly, necessary---she was
obliged to postpone the wished-for day, until
their united efforts could compass the means
of effecting it---as an earnest, however, of

her spirit in the cause, she gave him a fifty
pound note, that morning obtained from her
husband; and which the Captain lost at one
throw of the dice, to his brother-in-law, the
same evening.

During the preceding events, Egerton had
either studiously avoided all danger of collision
with the Moseleys, or his engagements
confined him to such very different scenes---
they never met.

The Baronet had felt his presence a reproach,
and Lady Moseley, rejoiced that
Egerton yet possessed sufficient shame to
keep him from insulting her with his company.

It was a month after the departure of
Lady Chatterton, that Sir Edward returned
to B—; as related in the preceding chapter---and
the arrangements for the London
winter were commenced.

The day preceding their leaving Bath, the
engagements of Chatterton with Lady Harriet
were made public amongst their mutual
friends---and an intimation given that their
nuptials would be celebrated, before the
family of the Duke left his seat for the capital.

Something of the pleasure, she had for
a long time been a stranger to, was felt by
Emily Moseley, as the well-remembered
tower of the village church of B— struck
her sight, on their return from their protracted
excursion in pursuit of pleasure---
more than four months had elapsed, since

they had commenced their travels, and in
that period, what change of sentiments had
she not witnessed in others---of opinions
of mankind in general, and of one individual
in particular, had she not experienced in her
own person—the benevolent smiles, the respectful
salutations they received, in passing
the little group of houses which, clustered
round the church, had obtained the name of
“the village,” conveyed a sensation of delight,
that can only be felt by the deserving and
virtuous—and the smiling faces, in several
instances glistening with tears, which met
them at the Hall, gave ample testimony to
the worth, of both the master and his servants.

Francis and Clara were in waiting
to receive them, and a very few minutes had
elapsed, before the rector and Mrs. Ives,
having heard they had passed, drove in also—
in saluting the different members of the family,
Mrs. Wilson noticed the startled look
of the Doctor, as the change in Emily's appearance
first met his eyes—her bloom, if
not gone, was greatly diminished, and it was
only when under the excitement of strong
emotions, that her face possessed that character
of joy and feeling, which had so
eminently distinguished it, before her late
journey.

“Where did you last see my friend
George?” said the Doctor to Mrs. Wilson,
in the course of the first afternoon, as he took

a seat by her side, apart from the rest of the
family.

“At L—,” said Mrs. Wilson, gravely,
in reply.

“L—,” cried the doctor, in evident
amazement---“Was he not at Bath, then,
during your stay there?”

No—I understand he was in attendance
on some sick relative, which detained him
from his friends there,” said Mrs. Wilson,
wondering why the Doctor chose to introduce,
so delicate a topic, between them—his
guilt in relation to Mrs. Fitzgerald, he was
doubtless ignorant of, but surely not of his
marriage.

“It is now sometime since I heard from
him,” continued the Doctor, regarding Mrs.
Wilson expressively, but to which the lady
only replied with a gentle inclination of the
body—and the Rector, after pausing a moment,
continued:

“You will not think me impertinent, if I
am bold enough to ask, has George ever expressed
a wish to become connected with
your niece, by other ties than those of friendship?”

“He did,” answered the widow, after a
little hesitation.

“He did, and—”

“Was refused,” continued Mrs. Wilson,
with a slight feeling for the dignity of her sex,
which for a moment, caused her to lose
sight of justice to Denbigh.

Dr. Ives was silent—but manifested, by his
dejected countenance, the interest he had
taken in this anticipated connection---and as
Mrs. Wilson had spoken with ill-concealed
reluctance on the subject at all, the Rector
did not attempt a renewal of the disagreeable
subject, though she saw for some time
afterwards, whenever the baronet or his wife
mentioned the name of Denbigh, the eyes of
the Rector were turned on them in intense
interest.