Lady Susan, Jane Austen [best books to read in life txt] 📗

Sir, your most humble servant,

 

F. S. V.

XXII

LADY SUSAN TO MRS. JOHNSON

 

Churchhill.

 

This is insufferable! My dearest friend, I was never so enraged before,

and must relieve myself by writing to you, who I know will enter into all

my feelings. Who should come on Tuesday but Sir James Martin! Guess my

astonishment, and vexation—for, as you well know, I never wished him to be

seen at Churchhill. What a pity that you should not have known his

intentions! Not content with coming, he actually invited himself to remain

here a few days. I could have poisoned him! I made the best of it, however,

and told my story with great success to Mrs. Vernon, who, whatever might be

her real sentiments, said nothing in opposition to mine. I made a point

also of Frederica’s behaving civilly to Sir James, and gave her to

understand that I was absolutely determined on her marrying him. She said

something of her misery, but that was all. I have for some time been more

particularly resolved on the match from seeing the rapid increase of her

affection for Reginald, and from not feeling secure that a knowledge of

such affection might not in the end awaken a return. Contemptible as a

regard founded only on compassion must make them both in my eyes, I felt by

no means assured that such might not be the consequence. It is true that

Reginald had not in any degree grown cool towards me; but yet he has lately

mentioned Frederica spontaneously and unnecessarily, and once said

something in praise of her person. HE was all astonishment at the

appearance of my visitor, and at first observed Sir James with an attention

which I was pleased to see not unmixed with jealousy; but unluckily it was

impossible for me really to torment him, as Sir James, though extremely

gallant to me, very soon made the whole party understand that his heart was

devoted to my daughter. I had no great difficulty in convincing De Courcy,

when we were alone, that I was perfectly justified, all things considered,

in desiring the match; and the whole business seemed most comfortably

arranged. They could none of them help perceiving that Sir James was no

Solomon; but I had positively forbidden Frederica complaining to Charles

Vernon or his wife, and they had therefore no pretence for interference;

though my impertinent sister, I believe, wanted only opportunity for doing

so. Everything, however, was going on calmly and quietly; and, though I

counted the hours of Sir James’s stay, my mind was entirely satisfied with

the posture of affairs. Guess, then, what I must feel at the sudden

disturbance of all my schemes; and that, too, from a quarter where I had

least reason to expect it. Reginald came this morning into my dressing-room

with a very unusual solemnity of countenance, and after some preface

informed me in so many words that he wished to reason with me on the

impropriety and unkindness of allowing Sir James Martin to address my

daughter contrary to her inclinations. I was all amazement. When I found

that he was not to be laughed out of his design, I calmly begged an

explanation, and desired to know by what he was impelled, and by whom

commissioned, to reprimand me. He then told me, mixing in his speech a few

insolent compliments and ill-timed expressions of tenderness, to which I

listened with perfect indifference, that my daughter had acquainted him

with some circumstances concerning herself, Sir James, and me which had

given him great uneasiness. In short, I found that she had in the first

place actually written to him to request his interference, and that, on

receiving her letter, he had conversed with her on the subject of it, in

order to understand the particulars, and to assure himself of her real

wishes. I have not a doubt but that the girl took this opportunity of

making downright love to him. I am convinced of it by the manner in which

he spoke of her. Much good may such love do him! I shall ever despise the

man who can be gratified by the passion which he never wished to inspire,

nor solicited the avowal of. I shall always detest them both. He can have

no true regard for me, or he would not have listened to her; and SHE, with

her little rebellious heart and indelicate feelings, to throw herself into

the protection of a young man with whom she has scarcely ever exchanged two

words before! I am equally confounded at HER impudence and HIS credulity.

How dared he believe what she told him in my disfavour! Ought he not to

have felt assured that I must have unanswerable motives for all that I had

done? Where was his reliance on my sense and goodness then? Where the

resentment which true love would have dictated against the person defaming

me—that person, too, a chit, a child, without talent or education, whom he

had been always taught to despise? I was calm for some time; but the

greatest degree of forbearance may be overcome, and I hope I was afterwards

sufficiently keen. He endeavoured, long endeavoured, to soften my

resentment; but that woman is a fool indeed who, while insulted by

accusation, can be worked on by compliments. At length he left me, as

deeply provoked as myself; and he showed his anger more. I was quite cool,

but he gave way to the most violent indignation; I may therefore expect it

will the sooner subside, and perhaps his may be vanished for ever, while

mine will be found still fresh and implacable. He is now shut up in his

apartment, whither I heard him go on leaving mine. How unpleasant, one

would think, must be his reflections! but some people’s feelings are

incomprehensible. I have not yet tranquillised myself enough to see

Frederica. SHE shall not soon forget the occurrences of this day; she shall

find that she has poured forth her tender tale of love in vain, and exposed

herself for ever to the contempt of the whole world, and the severest

resentment of her injured mother.

 

Your affectionate

 

S. VERNON.

XXIII

MRS. VERNON TO LADY DE COURCY

 

Churchhill.

 

Let me congratulate you, my dearest Mother! The affair which has given

us so much anxiety is drawing to a happy conclusion. Our prospect is most

delightful, and since matters have now taken so favourable a turn, I am

quite sorry that I ever imparted my apprehensions to you; for the pleasure

of learning that the danger is over is perhaps dearly purchased by all that

you have previously suffered. I am so much agitated by delight that I can

scarcely hold a pen; but am determined to send you a few short lines by

James, that you may have some explanation of what must so greatly astonish

you, as that Reginald should be returning to Parklands. I was sitting about

half an hour ago with Sir James in the breakfast parlour, when my brother

called me out of the room. I instantly saw that something was the matter;

his complexion was raised, and he spoke with great emotion; you know his

eager manner, my dear mother, when his mind is interested. “Catherine,”

said he, “I am going home to-day; I am sorry to leave you, but I must go:

it is a great while since I have seen my father and mother. I am going to

send James forward with my hunters immediately; if you have any letter,

therefore, he can take it. I shall not be at home myself till Wednesday or

Thursday, as I shall go through London, where I have business; but before I

leave you,” he continued, speaking in a lower tone, and with still greater

energy, “I must warn you of one thing—do not let Frederica Vernon be made

unhappy by that Martin. He wants to marry her; her mother promotes the

match, but she cannot endure the idea of it. Be assured that I speak from

the fullest conviction of the truth of what I say; I Know that Frederica is

made wretched by Sir James’s continuing here. She is a sweet girl, and

deserves a better fate. Send him away immediately; he is only a fool: but

what her mother can mean, Heaven only knows! Good bye,” he added, shaking

my hand with earnestness; “I do not know when you will see me again; but

remember what I tell you of Frederica; you MUST make it your business to

see justice done her. She is an amiable girl, and has a very superior mind

to what we have given her credit for.” He then left me, and ran upstairs. I

would not try to stop him, for I know what his feelings must be. The nature

of mine, as I listened to him, I need not attempt to describe; for a minute

or two I remained in the same spot, overpowered by wonder of a most

agreeable sort indeed; yet it required some consideration to be tranquilly

happy. In about ten minutes after my return to the parlour Lady Susan

entered the room. I concluded, of course, that she and Reginald had been

quarrelling; and looked with anxious curiosity for a confirmation of my

belief in her face. Mistress of deceit, however, she appeared perfectly

unconcerned, and after chatting on indifferent subjects for a short time,

said to me, “I find from Wilson that we are going to lose Mr. De Courcy—is

it true that he leaves Churchhill this morning?” I replied that it was. “He

told us nothing of all this last night,” said she, laughing, “or even this

morning at breakfast; but perhaps he did not know it himself. Young men are

often hasty in their resolutions, and not more sudden in forming than

unsteady in keeping them. I should not be surprised if he were to change

his mind at last, and not go.” She soon afterwards left the room. I trust,

however, my dear mother, that we have no reason to fear an alteration of

his present plan; things have gone too far. They must have quarrelled, and

about Frederica, too. Her calmness astonishes me. What delight will be

yours in seeing him again; in seeing him still worthy your esteem, still

capable of forming your happiness! When I next write I shall be able to

tell you that Sir James is gone, Lady Susan vanquished, and Frederica at

peace. We have much to do, but it shall be done. I am all impatience to

hear how this astonishing change was effected. I finish as I began, with

the warmest congratulations.

 

Yours ever, &c.,

 

CATH. VERNON.

XXIV

FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME

 

Churchhill.

 

Little did I imagine, my dear Mother, when I sent off my last letter,

that the delightful perturbation of spirits I was then in would undergo so

speedy, so melancholy a reverse. I never can sufficiently regret that I

wrote to you at all. Yet who could have foreseen what has happened? My dear

mother, every hope which made me so happy only two hours ago has vanished.

The quarrel between Lady Susan and Reginald is made up, and we are all as

we were before. One point only is gained. Sir James Martin is dismissed.

What are we now to look forward to? I am indeed disappointed; Reginald was

all but gone, his horse was ordered and all but brought to the door; who

would not have felt safe? For half an hour I was in momentary expectation

of his departure. After I had sent off my letter to you, I went to Mr.

Vernon, and sat with him in his room talking over the whole matter, and

then determined to look for Frederica, whom I had not seen since breakfast.