Lady Susan
sometimes impertinent and troublesome. There is a sort of ridiculous
delicacy about him which requires the fullest explanation of whatever
he may have heard to my disadvantage, and is never satisfied till he
thinks he has ascertained the beginning and end of everything. This is
one sort of love, but I confess it does not particularly recommend
itself to me. I infinitely prefer the tender and liberal spirit of
Mainwaring, which, impressed with the deepest conviction of my merit,
is satisfied that whatever I do must be right; and look with a degree
of contempt on the inquisitive and doubtful fancies of that heart which
seems always debating on the reasonableness of its emotions. Mainwaring
is indeed, beyond all compare, superior to Reginald—superior in
everything but the power of being with me! Poor fellow! he is much
distracted by jealousy, which I am not sorry for, as I know no better
support of love. He has been teazing me to allow of his coming into
this country, and lodging somewhere near _incog_.; but I forbade
everything of the kind. Those women are inexcusable who forget what is
due to themselves, and the opinion of the world.
Yours ever,
S. VERNON.
XVII
_Mrs. Vernon to Lady De Courcy._
Churchhill.
My dear Mother,—Mr. Vernon returned on Thursday night, bringing his
niece with him. Lady Susan had received a line from him by that day’s
post, informing her that Miss Summers had absolutely refused to allow
of Miss Vernon’s continuance in her academy; we were therefore prepared
for her arrival, and expected them impatiently the whole evening. They
came while we were at tea, and I never saw any creature look so
frightened as Frederica when she entered the room. Lady Susan, who had
been shedding tears before, and showing great agitation at the idea of
the meeting, received her with perfect self-command, and without
betraying the least tenderness of spirit. She hardly spoke to her, and
on Frederica’s bursting into tears as soon as we were seated, took her
out of the room, and did not return for some time. When she did, her
eyes looked very red and she was as much agitated as before. We saw no
more of her daughter. Poor Reginald was beyond measure concerned to see
his fair friend in such distress, and watched her with so much tender
solicitude, that I, who occasionally caught her observing his
countenance with exultation, was quite out of patience. This pathetic
representation lasted the whole evening, and so ostentatious and artful
a display has entirely convinced me that she did in fact feel nothing.
I am more angry with her than ever since I have seen her daughter; the
poor girl looks so unhappy that my heart aches for her. Lady Susan is
surely too severe, for Frederica does not seem to have the sort of
temper to make severity necessary. She looks perfectly timid, dejected,
and penitent. She is very pretty, though not so handsome as her mother,
nor at all like her. Her complexion is delicate, but neither so fair
nor so blooming as Lady Susan’s, and she has quite the Vernon cast of
countenance, the oval face and mild dark eyes, and there is peculiar
sweetness in her look when she speaks either to her uncle or me, for as
we behave kindly to her we have of course engaged her gratitude.
Her mother has insinuated that her temper is intractable, but I never
saw a face less indicative of any evil disposition than hers; and from
what I can see of the behaviour of each to the other, the invariable
severity of Lady Susan and the silent dejection of Frederica, I am led
to believe as heretofore that the former has no real love for her
daughter, and has never done her justice or treated her affectionately.
I have not been able to have any conversation with my niece; she is
shy, and I think I can see that some pains are taken to prevent her
being much with me. Nothing satisfactory transpires as to her reason
for running away. Her kind-hearted uncle, you may be sure, was too
fearful of distressing her to ask many questions as they travelled. I
wish it had been possible for me to fetch her instead of him. I think I
should have discovered the truth in the course of a thirty-mile
journey. The small pianoforte has been removed within these few days,
at Lady Susan’s request, into her dressing-room, and Frederica spends
great part of the day there, practising as it is called; but I seldom
hear any noise when I pass that way; what she does with herself there I
do not know. There are plenty of books, but it is not every girl who
has been running wild the first fifteen years of her life, that can or
will read. Poor creature! the prospect from her window is not very
instructive, for that room overlooks the lawn, you know, with the
shrubbery on one side, where she may see her mother walking for an hour
together in earnest conversation with Reginald. A girl of Frederica’s
age must be childish indeed, if such things do not strike her. Is it
not inexcusable to give such an example to a daughter? Yet Reginald
still thinks Lady Susan the best of mothers, and still condemns
Frederica as a worthless girl! He is convinced that her attempt to run
away proceeded from no justifiable cause, and had no provocation. I am
sure I cannot say that it _had_, but while Miss Summers declares that
Miss Vernon showed no signs of obstinacy or perverseness during her
whole stay in Wigmore Street, till she was detected in this scheme, I
cannot so readily credit what Lady Susan has made him, and wants to
make me believe, that it was merely an impatience of restraint and a
desire of escaping from the tuition of masters which brought on the
plan of an elopement. O Reginald, how is your judgment enslaved! He
scarcely dares even allow her to be handsome, and when I speak of her
beauty, replies only that her eyes have no brilliancy! Sometimes he is
sure she is deficient in understanding, and at others that her temper
only is in fault. In short, when a person is always to deceive, it is
impossible to be consistent. Lady Susan finds it necessary that
Frederica should be to blame, and probably has sometimes judged it
expedient to accuse her of ill-nature and sometimes to lament her want
of sense. Reginald is only repeating after her ladyship.
I remain, &c., &c.,
CATHERINE VERNON.
XVIII
_From the same to the same._
Churchhill.
My dear Mother,—I am very glad to find that my description of Frederica
Vernon has interested you, for I do believe her truly deserving of your
regard; and when I have communicated a notion which has recently struck
me, your kind impressions in her favour will, I am sure, be heightened.
I cannot help fancying that she is growing partial to my brother. I so
very often see her eyes fixed on his face with a remarkable expression
of pensive admiration. He is certainly very handsome; and yet more,
there is an openness in his manner that must be highly prepossessing,
and I am sure she feels it so. Thoughtful and pensive in general, her
countenance always brightens into a smile when Reginald says anything
amusing; and, let the subject be ever so serious that he may be
conversing on, I am much mistaken if a syllable of his uttering escapes
her. I want to make him sensible of all this, for we know the power of
gratitude on such a heart as his; and could Frederica’s artless
affection detach him from her mother, we might bless the day which
brought her to Churchhill. I think, my dear mother, you would not
disapprove of her as a daughter. She is extremely young, to be sure,
has had a wretched education, and a dreadful example of levity in her
mother; but yet I can pronounce her disposition to be excellent, and
her natural abilities very good. Though totally without
accomplishments, she is by no means so ignorant as one might expect to
find her, being fond of books and spending the chief of her time in
reading. Her mother leaves her more to herself than she did, and I have
her with me as much as possible, and have taken great pains to overcome
her timidity. We are very good friends, and though she never opens her
lips before her mother, she talks enough when alone with me to make it
clear that, if properly treated by Lady Susan, she would always appear
to much greater advantage. There cannot be a more gentle, affectionate
heart; or more obliging manners, when acting without restraint; and her
little cousins are all very fond of her.
Your affectionate daughter,
C. VERNON
XIX
_Lady Susan to Mrs. Johnson._
Churchhill.
You will be eager, I know, to hear something further of Frederica, and
perhaps may think me negligent for not writing before. She arrived with
her uncle last Thursday fortnight, when, of course, I lost no time in
demanding the cause of her behaviour; and soon found myself to have
been perfectly right in attributing it to my own letter. The prospect
of it frightened her so thoroughly, that, with a mixture of true
girlish perverseness and folly, she resolved on getting out of the
house and proceeding directly by the stage to her friends, the Clarkes;
and had really got as far as the length of two streets in her journey
when she was fortunately missed, pursued, and overtaken. Such was the
first distinguished exploit of Miss Frederica Vernon; and, if we
consider that it was achieved at the tender age of sixteen, we shall
have room for the most flattering prognostics of her future 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