a sketch.
on the outskirts of a certain country town, which for euphony we will call briarstone, from its being situated in one of the most picturesque but least known parts of old england, and almost imbedded in hills and lanes, where the wood or briar-rose grew redundantly, was a certain castellated-looking mansion, glowing with red bricks and bright blue slates, storied with large-paned windows, framed with such fresh green, that it would seem as if the painter’s brush could never have been absent above a month together. the entrance-door, of most aristocratic dimensions, was of bright glazed yellow, never sullied by dust or dimness. below the portentous-looking circular knocker (briarstone was yet in happy ignorance of the un-aristocracy of knockers) was a large brass plate, glittering in the sunshine like burning gold, and bearing thereon, in large and dignified letters, as if the name was of such importance in itself that it required no engraver’s ornament, the monosyllables—portentous in their very brevity—miss brown. the gravel walk which led up to the imposing flight of steps (white as the most scrupulous care could make them) that the yellow door surmounted, was kept so particularly neat, that the very birds feared to alight upon it, lest they should be swept off for some intrusive leaf or twig, quicker even than their voluntary flight. it was impossible to look upon the exterior of the mansion without being impressed with a grand idea of its as yet invisible interior.
standing, as red rose villa did, in a spacious garden, full ten minutes’ walk out of the town, it was marvellous how the daily events of this said town became known within its walls, as if a train had been laid—a sort of electrical conductor—to the interior of every dwelling which conveyed back to its starting-place all the information required. however invisible the means of communication, the effects were certain: for miss brown knew everything, even before the persons affected knew it themselves.
now, miss brown, though her dignified name appeared on the brass plate solus, was not the sole inmate of this stately mansion by any means. she was, in fact, one of a multitude; for there were times when the capacious walls of red rose villa enshrined no fewer than fifty living souls. the truth must out on our paper, though miss brown would have been shocked almost to annihilation had any one suggested the propriety of permitting it to speak on her cherished brass plate—miss brown kept a first-rate finishing academy for young ladies of the first families, and a boarding house for all who needed kind friends, cheerful lodgings, and comfortable board. then she had an english, and a french, and an italian, and of course a german teacher—all exemplary young women. masters were rarely admitted, it being a gross impropriety in miss brown’s educational code to accustom young ladies to male tuition.
one indeed there was, a mr. gilbert givevoice; but then miss brown and his lamented mother had been such friends, that at one time they had thought of becoming another miss ponsonby and lady eleanor butler, and causing a sensation by retiring to live on friendship; but, unfortunately, before this could be carried into effect, a mr. givevoice appeared, and miss brown was left to mourn the inconsistency of those professions which had declared friendship all-sufficient for life. the offence was not forgiven for many years; but when mrs. givevoice was left a widow, miss brown generously relented, and gilbert showing some musical talent (magnified by the briarstonians into marvellous genius), he was gradually installed as music-master general, and aid extraordinary in all the concerns of red rose villa.
besides five-and-twenty pupils, a dozen boarders, four teachers, and half a dozen servants, miss brown was blessed with two brothers and two sisters, to all of whom she had performed most inimitably a mother’s part. many marvelled that such grown men as mr. gustavus and mr. adolphus brown should so contentedly succumb to female domination, and not seek homes for themselves; but petticoat government was so supreme in red rose villa, that even the hint of such a thing would have been far too great a stretch of masculine audacity; and, in fact, they were very well contented where they were. mr. adolphus was a banker’s clerk, and was only known at home as going to sleep upon the sofa. mr. gustavus had been (according to his own account), at one time, a land-surveyor, at another, an architect, and then an engraver; but he was, he declared, one of the unlucky ones, and so quietly sunk down in his sister’s establishment, as merely a domestic man, who could set his hand to anything. he taught writing and arithmetic, and oriental tinting, and lead tinting, and a variety of finishing accomplishments; and copied music, and invented patterns for all the young lady-boarders who were worth something more than smiles. mr. adolphus was always asleep. mr. gustavus never seemed to sleep at all; thin as a lath, he was here, there, and everywhere, busying himself in everybody’s concerns, but never succeeding in forwarding his own.
miss brown, portly and majestic in carriage as of imperturbable gravity in look, possessed a fund of high-sounding, choice-worded, conversational powers—that is to say, her speech, once entered upon, flowed on in such a continuous gently-murmuring stream, that to break or interrupt it by a rejoinder was utterly impossible. the voice was as imperturbable and unvarying as the face. she was wondrously learned; schooled in the lore of the ancient, and wise in the ways of the modern world. no scheme could be set afloat at briarstone unless miss brown had been consulted; no shop was the fashion unless miss brown had patronised; no case of distress worth relieving, unless forwarded by miss brown; and, in sober truth, miss brown was benevolent—was generous—did the kindest deeds imaginable; but as she never left her pinnacle of ice to look into human hearts, lest their warmth should thaw hers, she received neither the regard nor esteem which her sterling qualities in reality merited. miss wilhelmina brown was her antipodes—all sweetness—all graciousness—all fascination! miss brown was learned, and not accomplished; miss wilhelmina accomplished, and not learned. miss brown was all sobriety, miss wilhelmina all smiles. at thirty, she learnt the harp; at five-and-thirty the guitar; at forty, she discovered she had a voice, and could sing inimitably—all the briarstone soirées said so, and of course it must be true. whole scenes from the french tragedians—stanzas from dante—long lines from schiller—miss wilhelmina would recite with such pathos, such expression, there was no occasion to understand the languages to enter into such charming recitations. english poetry was not ventured upon: byron and moore were charming, certainly; but then her sister’s responsible position—she dared not admit them upon the drawing-room tables of red rose villa—she could only indulge herself strictly in private.
miss angelica, the youngest of the family by some years, was different to either sister. nature had not been very bountiful in the powers of the brain, but, in their stead, had endowed her with powers of housewifery in no common degree. she managed all the domestic concerns of this human noah’s ark as no one else could. from morning till night she was moving; so overlooking every department, that at the farthest sound of her footsteps (none of the lightest, for miss angelica was as short and stout as miss wilhelmina was tall and languidly slim) every brush and broom seemed endowed with double velocity. jingle, jingle, went a huge bunch of keys—pat, pat, her substantial feet, from kitchen to attic—scullery to roof. even if she sat down, her fingers continued the same perpetual motion, in the creation of sundry caps, bonnets, head-dresses—all the paraphernalia of female elegancies. no one dressed so becomingly as the misses brown; and miss angelica was considered the originator and inventor of fashions which all briarstone followed.
the pupils were like most misses in their teens. originality of character always succumbed to system in red rose villa. miss brown’s was a finishing academy for manners as well as morals; and so in the weekly soirées of her mansion, the young ladies, by alternate eights, appeared in the drawing-room, dressed very becomingly, to sit down and smile, and answer in monosyllables; to play their last specimen of herz or thalberg, or sing their last bravura, or make one in a quadrille; but in all they did to bear witness to the admirable code of tuition and government carried out in red rose villa.
the boarders presented a variety of characters; but as our sketch only extends over one evening, we can merely mention them generally. officers’ widows, on half-pay, who, by a residence in miss brown’s establishment, combined first-rate education for their daughters, and society for themselves; ancient spinsters, who had not given up the idea of becoming middle-aged matrons, well knowing that miss brown’s philanthropic disposition gave them opportunities for the cultivation of the tender passion, when any one else would have imagined the time for such juvenilities was over. in the fortnightly soirées, one, two, or three pairs of lovers were always found among miss brown’s guests—unfortunates, whose interminable engagements, from pecuniary difficulties, or the stern dissent of cruel guardians, would have seemed hopeless to all, but for the energetic encouragement of the benevolent miss brown, who always acted on the idea
“passion, i see, is catching.”
and, still more urgent reason, never did a wedding party issue from the well-glazed portals of red rose villa (and such events did really occur) but an accession of pupils and boarders immediately followed.
amongst the boarders were two young ladies, sisters’ children, and both orphans, but the similitude went no further. isabel morland, the eldest by two years, was a sparkling brunette—satirical—clever; eccentric in habits, uneven in temper, and capricious as the wind. but what did all this signify? she was an heiress; and, reckoning according to the estimation of briarstone, a rich one. she had been a pupil, and her love of display, and coquetry, and determination to get a husband, had occasioned her resolve to remain with a family whom in heart she detested, rather than reside with the only relations she possessed, old respectable folks in the country. she had sense enough to know that her fortune, inexhaustible as it seemed in briarstone, would not endow her with the smallest consequence elsewhere. and though so highly gifted by nature as, had she selected the society of superior minds, to have become both estimable and happy; yet her love of power—of feeling herself superior to any one with whom she associated—made her voluntarily become a member of a family whom she lost no opportunity of turning into objects of satire and abuse; receiving the marked attentions of mr. gustavus brown so graciously, when no better offered, as to give him every hope of ultimate success; but cold, distant, and disdainful, at the remotest chance of achieving a more desirable conquest.
very different was laura gascoigne. unusually retiring in manner, the peculiar charm hovering around her could better be felt than described. possessing neither the wit nor the cleverness, or, as coleridge so happily expresses it, “the brain in the hand,” which characterised her cousin, she had judgment, feeling, thought—the rare power of concentration, which enabled her to succeed in all she attempted—the quiet, persevering energy which leads to completion, even in the simplest trifles, and prevents all mere superficial acquirement. perhaps early sorrow had deepened natural characteristics. from the time her mother became widowed, no pen can describe the devotedness which was the tie between them. the failing health of mrs. gascoigne had, during the last year of her life, compelled a residence in the south of england; and, when in the neighbourhood of briarstone, the real kindness to the mother and daughter received from the misses brown induced laura, after mrs. gascoigne’s death, to make their house her home, till she could decide on her future plans. she was indeed lonely upon earth; and the straitened means which had urged her to teach many hours in the day, to supply her mother with luxuries and comforts, by stamping them as poor, prevented her being known in those circles where her gentle virtues would have gained her real appreciating friends.
all that she had sacrificed in her filial devotion even her mother never knew, though that mighty sacrifice had been made full two years before her death. an invalid, whose life might pass from night till morning with none on earth to love and tend her but her child, laura could not leave her. and when she had said this, her lover, in all the jealous irritation of an angry, passionate nature, reproached her that she did not, could not love him, else every other consideration would be waived—that the reports of her affections having been transferred to another were true, and therefore it was better they should part. she had meekly left him to resume her sad duties by her mother’s side, and they had never met again. she knew he had been on the eve of leaving england for an honourable appointment in the west indies, to which he had been nominated. but the wish would rise that he would write; he could not continue in anger towards her; time must show the purity, the justice, of her motive in her refusal, at such a moment, to leave england. and gladly would she have remained in one spot, hoping, believing on; but her mother needed constant change, and they had gone from place to place, that perhaps, even if he had written, no letter could have reached her. three years had passed; and if the hope to prove her truth still lingered, the expectation had indeed long gone. and so laura’s early youth had passed, with not one flower cast upon it save those her own sweet disposition gave. miss brown’s establishment was not, indeed, a congenial home; but she had her own room, her own pursuits; and though often yearning—how intensely!—for sympathy and intellectual companionship, could be thankful and contented. she could not love the miss browns, but she respected their sterling qualities, and regretted their eccentricities; and so found some good point to dilate on when others quizzed and laughed at them, that her presence always checked ill-nature.
“what is the cause of all this unusual confusion and excitement, isabel?” inquired laura one morning, entering her cousin’s apartment; “do enlighten me. you always know everything as thoroughly as miss brown herself.”
“and you always know nothing, my most rustic cousin. fortunate for you, you have so superior a person as myself to come to. there is to be a grand assembly in the lower regions to-night, and so of course sweet wilhelmina is practising and tuning enough to terrify away all harmony, and angelica is buried in all the mysteries of supper craft. don’t look unbelieving, it is true.”
“and it is wednesday, not saturday, isabel.”
“granted, laura; but such a grand event as receiving a baronet and his sister demands everything uncommon, even to a change of night. it would be doing him no honour to receive him on a usual soirée night. learned lucretia is deep in the last novel and this month’s most fashionable magazine. folks report that sir sydney harcourt likes literary conversation. i mean to try if isabel morland will not have more effect in captivating than the three graces, lucretia, wilhelmina, and angelica altogether, backed by their whole corps of spinsters and schoolgirls. what has seized you, laura, that you do not scold me, as usual, for my self-conceit? do you begin to feel it is breath wasted? my dear, you shall see me in perfection to-night. sir sydney shall not depart heart-whole from briarstone, though he does look as if nobody within it could be worth speaking to.”
isabel was standing before a large mirror, much too engrossed in admiring her own face and studying various attitudes, and the best mode of arranging her glossy black hair, to notice how strangely and fitfully laura’s colour varied, and the voice in which she said, “sir sydney harcourt, is he a new resident at briarstone?” was not sufficiently agitated to cause remark, save to a much quicker perception than isabel’s.
“yes, within the last few days; such a sensation has his arrival made, you must have heard of it even in your sanctum.”
“my dear isabel, have i not been staying out the last fortnight, and only returned last night?”
“oh, by-the-bye, so you have.”
“how much you must have missed me!”
“i did the first few days; but, my good child, how could i think of anything but the new lion, splendid as he is, too? he is only here for a month. will you dare me to the field, laura, to make that month two, or six, or something more into the bargain?”
“no, isabel, you need no daring. only remember your own peace may be endangered too.”
“my peace! my dear foolish child. i shall see sir sydney at my feet long before any such catastrophe. lady harcourt! how well it sounds!”
“and mr. brown, isabel?”
“the wretch! we have quarrelled irretrievably.”
“and when i left you were giving him every encouragement you could.”
“nonsense, laura. you are always preaching of my giving encouragement. the poor wretch would die in despair if i did not relent sometimes.”
“better, as i have always told you, put an end to his attentions at once. i am certain he would cease to persecute, if you did not encourage him, as you know you do.”
“i know i do. poor dear gussy—he is very well, when i can get no one else.”
“but indeed, isabel, you are very wrong; your manner to him is the talk of every one.”
“i do not care for what every one thinks, as i have told you hundreds of times. i will just pursue my own inclination, whether the world approve of it or not. what is the world to me? you cannot possibly imagine i mean ever to become mrs. brown. why, the very name is enough to make me drown myself first. no, i am free to receive all sir sydney’s attentions, which i fully mean to win. you know i have some power, laura.”
“to attract, but not to keep, isabel.”
“laura, if you were not a thorough simpleton, i should say you had designs on sir sydney yourself. come, will you run a tilt with me for him? i will be generous, and keep back some of my fascinations, that we may try as equals, if you will.”
“thank you for the proposal, but it would hardly be fair. you will burst upon sir sydney in the freshness and brilliancy of novelty, in addition to all your other attractions. i have not even novelty to befriend me, for i rather think i have met him before.”
“sir sydney harcourt! how sly of you not to tell me all this time. when?—how?—where?”
“how could i tell you before, isabel, when you have scarcely given me breathing space?”
“but do you know anything of his former life? report says he was jilted by a poor insignificant girl, and has been a professed woman-hater ever since. i do believe there he is in his curricle. what a splendid set-out!—do look, laura. stay—i shall see him better in the next room.”
and to the next room she flew, so engrossed with sir sydney’s splendid driving that she did not perceive that laura had not accepted the invitation, but had quietly retired to her own room.
“miss gascoigne, i trust you will join us to-night. i expect the honour of sir sydney harcourt’s and his accomplished sister’s company. your manners and appearance are so completely comme il faut that they will, no doubt, be glad to meet you. i do not approve of young ladies hunting after gaiety and dissipation; but it is a great advantage to mix in such society as i can offer you to-night. i shall expect to see you, of course,” and without waiting for a reply—for such a thing as dissent to miss brown’s commands was not to be thought of—miss brown, or learned lucretia, in isabel morland’s phraseology, majestically floated onwards.
“laura, my sweet laura, play over the accompaniment to this luscious ‘ah te o cara.’ mr. givevoice will be here to-night, so i shall not want you; but now, if you will assist me, you will do me such a favour. the music is so mellifluous, it will quite repay you for the trouble.” and laura complied, regretting most sincerely that a person possessing such real sense and goodness as miss wilhelmina should so expose herself to ridicule, but feeling that, young as she was, it was more her duty to bear with folly than reprove it.
“laura, dear, put the finishing bows to lucretia’s cap for me, there’s a love. i have such innumerable things to see after and get done before seven o’clock to-night, that i have no time to breathe.”
“you are always busy, my dear miss angelica. i wish you would make me of use. i shall finish this in ten minutes; so you had better give me something else to do.”
“you are the best girl in the world, laura, my dear; but you can’t assist me in household concerns. no one can; they worry me to death—but i don’t grow thin upon them, that’s one comfort. come, i am glad you are smiling, laura, my dear. what a pity you are not more merry. by-the-bye, you may help me very much—i shall never get through the tea-making all by myself.”
“let me take it off your hands entirely. i will with pleasure.”
“thank you—thank you, my dear; but nothing would go right if i were not there too, depend upon it. if there is not molly only going now to dust the rooms—the lazy huzzy!” and off trotted miss angelica, to scold and dust by turns.
the evening at length arrived. confusion and noise, and sundry domestic jars, had subsided into silence and solemnity actually portentous. the pupils, with the exception of six most highly favoured, had been dismissed to their dormitories, and the schoolroom fitted up for the supper, which, under miss angelica’s auspices in the culinary department, miss wilhelmina’s in the elegant arrangement of fruit and flowers, and miss lucretia’s in the selection of sweets and solids least hurtful to the gastronomic and digestive powers, was to be unequalled.
in the front drawing-room the misses and messrs. brown and their train of boarders sat in imposing state. the covers had all been removed from the couches, chairs-lounges, ottomans, etc., displaying a variety of embroidery by the fair fingers of miss wilhelmina, and the splendid designs of mr. gustavus. the harp was uncovered; the guitar, with its broad blue ribbon, laid carelessly on the grand piano-forte, which was open; and at his post on the music-stool sat mr. gilbert givevoice, fair and famous, smiling very sweetly on his tall pupil, miss wilhelmina, who was in earnest conversation by his side. miss brown was on the sofa, looking wiser and grander than ever. a vacant place was left beside her, which no one thought of taking, for that it was designed for miss harcourt being as well known as if the name had been chalked up on the wall behind. presently all the presentable inhabitants of briarstone flocked in, attired in their very best, and satisfying miss brown as to the imposing appearance of her saloon. the back drawing-room, somewhat less brilliantly lighted, was occupied, as usual, by three or four sets of lovers. the blue room opened from it, and laura was there ensconced as miss angelica’s aid extraordinary. the door being thrown open permitted a full view of the two drawing-rooms and all their proceedings, though from the blue room occupying a sort of angular corner, its inmates could not even be observed. isabel morland, looking actually dazzling from her becoming dress and indescribable tournure, had chosen to settle down into a regular flirtation with a mr. manby, a young man she sometimes deigned to notice, at others deemed too little even to be visible. mr. gustavus looked black as a thunder-cloud; his thin form moving in and out the circle, but always hovering nearest isabel, who took no more notice of him than of his vacant chair.
at length the magic words, “sir sydney and miss harcourt,” were pronounced, and the door flung back as if its very hinges should suffer martyrdom to do them honour; and the whole roomful rose, as by one movement, except isabel, who carelessly remained seated. then came sundry flourishes and introductions, and mutual bows and curtseys, till miss harcourt fairly sank down on her seat of honour, casting a rueful glance at her brother, who returned it with one so irresistibly comic, that isabel, to whom alone the look was visible, was compelled to smile too. sir sydney, whose eye was wandering round the room, caught the look, eagerly bowed recognition, and in another minute was at her side, leaving mr. gustavus with half his tale untold.
that sir sydney was handsome, and had all the ease and elegance of a polished gentleman, there could not be two opinions about; but there was something more about him, no one could exactly define what. he was too well bred to be haughty or repulsive when he had quite willingly accepted miss brown’s invitation; yet he certainly did not seem in his element. he did smile and talk well; but miss wilhelmina whispered to an intimate friend to observe how very melancholy his countenance was when at rest; she was certain he was not a happy man, and what could be the reason? miss harcourt was pronounced, after a trial of ten minutes, a most charming, accomplished, elegant girl; she was in reality merely an unaffected, genteel, quiet, little personage, without any pretension whatever, and somewhat past what she deemed girlhood.
the evening proceeded most harmoniously. tea was accomplished elegantly, under miss angelica’s active surveillance. she was in the blue room, back and front drawing-rooms, so quickly, one after the other, that she seemed gifted with ubiquity for the evening. then miss brown proposed music and dancing; she thought they were such delectable adjuncts to young people’s amusement—such social pleasure, etc.; to all of which miss harcourt gracefully assented. she would be happy to perform her part; her brother seldom danced. a general lamentation followed. what a loss to the dancers: perhaps he would prefer music; they could offer him some very passable; and a concert commenced, in appearance very naturally given, but, in reality performed in exact accordance with well-cogitated arrangements beforehand.
whether sir sydney benefited by the succession of “sweet sounds,” or not, remained a problem; as isabel, to miss brown, and mr. gustavus’s excessive annoyance, kept him so exclusively her attendant, that it required all his acquaintance with worldy tact to save him from rudeness to his hostesses, at the same time that he fully encouraged his companion. the only thought isabel could spare from sir sydney, was for laura to witness her triumph; but laura was nowhere to be seen. if isabel could have known that her cousin saw her and sir sydney too, and the sickness of heart that vision gave, she might have triumphed more.
dancing was at length accomplished, and sir sydney actually joined in it, dancing two quadrilles successively with isabel, and then remaining standing with her, leaning against the piano, in such apparent earnest conversation as allowed attention to nothing else. mr. manby and several other beaux of briarstone, whom isabel never disdained at the public balls, when none superior were to be had, came in humble adoration entreating the honour of her hand. the toss of the head and curl of the lip with which they were refused elicited an expression in sir sydney’s eye and very handsome mouth which must have startled isabel, had she not been too engrossed with her own apparent conquest to perceive it.
“sydney, you are wrong,” whispered miss harcourt, as isabel, for an instant, disappeared to find a musical album on which she very much prided herself.
“mary, i am right,” was the reply. “if young ladies choose to play the coquette, it is but fair in us to pay them back in their own coin. how ungracious i should be to let all these graceful arts be wasted.”
miss harcourt still looked disapproval, but further rejoinder was impossible; for isabel, flushed with conquest, had returned, more animated and engrossing than before.
“of course you sing, miss morland?”
“no, sir sydney; i abhor all pretension; and as i knew i could never sing like a professor, i never attempted it.”
“pardon me, but i think you are wrong. there can be no necessity for private performers to equal professors; indeed i would banish all italian bravuras from private rooms.”
“you will think my brother a sad goth, miss morland; but he prefers a simple english ballad to anything else.”
“i admire his taste; but you surely do not think ballad-singing an easily-accomplished matter?”
“easy enough for any one with natural feeling,” replied sir sydney, somewhat hastily, “and with boldness sufficient to express it. i would rather hear ‘go, forget me,’ as i have heard it, than the finest italian scena by a prima donna.”
“i am delighted, sir sydney, that we have it in our power to afford you that gratification,” energetically interposed miss wilhelmina. the baronet made her a graceful bow, looking at his sister, however, with eyes that plainly said, “save me from this.”
“laura!” (sir sydney actually started, but recovered himself so rapidly that the sudden flushing of his brow was unremarked even by isabel.) “dear me, where can the dear girl have hid herself? i assure you, sir sydney, though she sings very seldom, she is considered first-rate in english ballads,” and away gracefully glided miss wilhelmina in search of her.
“who is this ‘dear girl,’ miss morland? can she really sing that song? i would rather she chose any other,” said sir sydney in a tone almost of irritation.
isabel looked up with one of her most mischievous smiles, which recalled him instantly to his artificial self; but before he could rally sufficiently to speak again, miss wilhelmina’s voice, in its most dulcet tones of encouragement, was close beside him.
“come, laura, my dear; we are all friends, you know—no one to be afraid of. sir sydney is so particularly partial to ‘go, forget me:’ i am sure you will favour him.”
“or any other song the young lady likes. i would not be so arbitrary as to select for her,” he exclaimed, springing up, with gentlemanly politeness, to relieve miss wilhelmina of the music-book she carried, and, as he took it from her, coming in close contact with the fair girl behind her, whom her flowing drapery had till then completely concealed.
“laura! miss gascoigne! is it possible?” he articulated, in a tone which, though suppressed, must, to any perception less obtuse than the misses brown’s, have betrayed intense emotion; but miss wilhelmina only read casual acquaintanceship, and supposed an introduction had taken place in the early part of the evening. laura bowed, sir sydney thought, coldly, and quietly passed on to the piano. the song was selected and sung. she had often been heard before, but her voice had never seemed the same as at that moment. it might have been that what a baronet and his sister listened to with such interest, that the former had moved himself some distance from miss morland’s fascinations to look at and listen to the singer unobserved, must be of greater value than it had ever before been supposed, or that there really was some spell in the song which laura had never been heard to sing before (miss wilhelmina, seeing it amongst her music, had spoken on supposition merely); but it fell upon the most thoughtless, the most obtuse, with such unaccountable power, that even when the strain ceased, the sudden and unusual hush continued, until rudely broken by mr. gustavus brown and mr. gilbert givevoice clapping their hands most vehemently, exciting an uproar of applause, under which laura tried to make her escape, but she was prevented by the friendly advance of miss harcourt, who, with both hands extended, exclaimed, so as to be heard by all, “miss gascoigne, will you permit me to thank you for your beautiful song and claim your acquaintance in the same breath? we have, in truth, never met before; but if you knew me as well as i know you from report, we should be friends—nay more, allies—already. you need not look so very terrified,” she added, with laughing earnestness; “i am not a very formidable person, though my want of ceremony may really be rather startling; but i am so glad to have found you, that i must entreat miss brown’s kind permission to excuse me, if i do forget everybody but you for a little while.”
her ready tact met with the rejoinder she desired: she was entreated by all the sisters to make herself quite at home; they were delighted she should know their dear laura. the blue room was quite deserted, and they could chat there quite comfortably; and to the blue room miss harcourt eagerly led her companion, who so trembled that she feared for the continuance of her composure. the door was not closed; to do so would have occasioned remark; but, as we said before, the room was so situated for its inmates to be completely retired from all observation.
isabel morland was furious. she had seen sir sydney’s suppressed emotion, and, with the quickness of thought, connected that and miss harcourt’s eager address with the floating rumours of sir sydney’s early life; but that her insignificant, unfashionable cousin, could be the heroine of the tale, and retain such hold of his recollection as to drive all her present fascinations from his mind, was a degradation not to be passively endured; in fact, it was impossible—she would not think about it—sir sydney should be caught yet; but at present there certainly was little hope of it. he had deserted her, and was in earnest, if not agitated, conversation with miss lucretia and miss wilhelmina brown, who were listening and answering, and then gradually entering into detail, with so much interest, that all superficial folly gave way, for the time, before the real goodness of heart which they in general so strenuously contrived to conceal.
“disagreeable, designing old women!” isabel thought, “what can he see in them to hold his attention so chained? he shall not listen any longer,” and she glided close to the sofa where the two were seated. sir sydney rose, and offered her his seat. no; she would rather stand. sir sydney bowed, and quietly sat down again. something seemed the matter with isabel’s bracelet; she clasped and unclasped it vehemently, but the movement did not disturb the earnest conversation, which sir sydney, in a low voice, still continued. the trinket broke, and fell at his feet. he gracefully raised and presented it, regretting the accident, and turned again to the misses brown. an exclamation of “what could have become of her beautiful bouquet?” was the young lady’s next effort to recall the deserter to his allegiance; but sir sydney did not even seem to hear it, or, if he did, before he could make a move to seek it, it was presented to her by the officious gussy, with a most malicious bow. isabel did not quite throw it at his head, as inclination prompted, but in a very few seconds every flower lay in fragments at her feet; one beautiful exotic fell, uninjured, so close to miss wilhelmina, that she raised it with an expression of lamentation; but isabel snatched it from her, and hastily stamped her pretty little foot upon it, with such a very unequivocal expression of temper, that sir sydney almost unconsciously fixed an astonished gaze upon her. it was too much to be borne quietly; she turned angrily away, sauntering through the rooms, deigning to hold converse with none, and would have so far sacrificed all propriety, as to enter the blue room to solve the mystery at once, had not laura and miss harcourt at that instant reappeared. the countenance of the latter bore such evident traces of emotion, spite of the strong control she was practising, that isabel was on the point of making some bitterly satirical remark, but those dark reproving eyes were again upon her, and sir sydney spoke before she did; but it was to laura, not to her.
“has my sister pleaded in vain, or may i indeed claim an old friend—and forgiveness?” he added, speaking the last word in so low a tone as only to be heard by his sister, laura, and isabel. laura’s lip so quivered, that no word would come; but her hand was unhesitatingly placed in that which sir sydney so eagerly extended, and her eyes met his. he drew her arm in his, and led her, to all appearance, so easily and naturally to a quadrille that was forming, that few suspected more than that they had been old friends; and how strange it was they should meet there and then; and, if he should talk to her, and make her sing twice again, during the short remainder of the evening, it was nothing remarkable!
isabel had thrown herself moodily on one of the sofas in the blue room, half concealed by the curtains of the window, trying, in vain, to connect sir sydney’s conduct and the report of his former life. it seemed clear enough, but she would not believe it. there was nothing in his manner but old acquaintanceship; she would conquer him yet. how could laura vie with her? alas, for the delusion! miss harcourt’s shawl, by the provident care of miss angelica, had been brought to the blue room, and there, with laura, she repaired; the misses brown, in trio, assembled to do them great honour; and isabel remained wholly unperceived. after being well shawled, miss harcourt disappeared with her body-guard of browns. sir sydney, who had come ostensibly to hurry her, lingered—
“laura! my own beloved! forgiven—loved through all! how could i doubt—how could i make myself and you so miserable? can i ever repay you, even by a long life of love? if you but knew the remorse, the wretchedness i have endured, you would forgive still more,” were the somewhat incoherent sentences that fell distinctly on isabel’s ear; and, though there was no answer, no words, she could see sir sydney’s arm thrown round her cousin, and that she shrunk not from his parting kiss. another moment, and both had disappeared; sir sydney to take such farewell of the really worthy women who had befriended his laura, that he left them in perfect raptures; and laura to fly to the security of her own room, where, burying her face in her hands, the tears burst forth like a torrent, giving relief, vent, calm to a heart which, though so sustained in grief, had been so unused to joy, that its presence had well-nigh prevented its realization.
our readers must imagine all the various crosses and vexatious contretemps which had prevented sir sydney harcourt from discovering laura, as he had so ardently desired to do; for ours is a mere sketch, not a tale. they must recollect he had, only the last six months, returned from the west indies, a residence in which had entirely frustrated his wishes for a reconciliation, even by a letter; for, as we have said before, mrs. gascoigne’s constant removals had prevented the possibility of any letter from such a distance finding them. when he had first loved her he was dependent on a coarse-minded worldly relation, to whom an affection for a poor girl dared not be breathed. he had sought an appointment abroad, to escape a matrimonial connection which was being forced upon him, and he had wished laura to consent to a private marriage, and accompany him abroad as the companion of his sister, who preferred daring the miseries of the west indies with her brother, to remaining in england without him. sir sydney (then plain sydney harcourt, with little hope of the baronetcy and independence for many years), naturally of a fiery and somewhat jealous temper, materially increased from the privations and checks he was constantly enduring, chose to believe laura’s calm, reasoning indifference, and her refusal to leave her ailing mother, only a cover to reject his affection for that of some richer lover. time, his sister’s representations, and the bitter pain of separation cooled these unjust suspicions, and he only recollected laura’s look of suffering and tone of suppressed agony, with which she had bade him farewell.
the unexpected demise of his relation, the baronetcy, and a moderate independency recalling him to england much sooner than he had dreamed of, every effort was put in force to find laura, but in vain, till chance led him to briarstone, and some magnetic instinct urged him to accept an invitation which it was more in his nature to have travelled some miles to avoid. he always declared his belief in mesmeric influences henceforward.
isabel’s schemes to prevent the course of true love from running smooth were fruitless. the old adage had already had its more than quantum of fulfilment, and laura gascoigne became lady harcourt before she was two months older. the delight and self-complacency of the misses brown were beyond description; miss lucretia looked grander, miss wilhelmina more gracious, and miss angelica more bustling than ever. an accession of pupils and boarders was almost the immediate consequence of laura’s marriage, and the fair fame of red rose villa was so well established, as fortunately to receive no diminution from an affair which so scandalized miss brown, that she herself could not rally from it for months. after alternately encouraging mr. gustavus brown and mr. gilbert givevoice, till each gentleman so believed himself the favoured individual as to be ready to call his rival out, if he dared to deny it, isabel morland, one fine summer morning, eloped with an italian emigrant count, who, much against miss brown’s ideas of propriety, she would have to teach her italian, leaving both lovers in the somewhat disagreeable predicament of having been most egregiously deceived and laughed at, at the very moment they were anticipating the gold, far more than the hand, of an heiress; and as such was the origin of their dreams and the source of their disappointment, we can better forgive isabel’s conduct to them, than we can her conduct to herself. alas, indeed, for those whom nature has so gifted, and over whom principle has no sway!
2. a fact.
