Lady Susan
man; and I must make myself amends for the humiliation to which I have
stooped within these few days. To effect all this I have various plans.
I have also an idea of being soon in town; and whatever may be my
determination as to the rest, I shall probably put _that_ project in
execution; for London will be always the fairest field of action,
however my views may be directed; and at any rate I shall there be
rewarded by your society, and a little dissipation, for a ten weeks’
penance at Churchhill. I believe I owe it to my character to complete
the match between my daughter and Sir James after having so long
intended it. Let me know your opinion on this point. Flexibility of
mind, a disposition easily biassed by others, is an attribute which you
know I am not very desirous of obtaining; nor has Frederica any claim
to the indulgence of her notions at the expense of her mother’s
inclinations. Her idle love for Reginald, too! It is surely my duty to
discourage such romantic nonsense. All things considered, therefore, it
seems incumbent on me to take her to town and marry her immediately to
Sir James. When my own will is effected contrary to his, I shall have
some credit in being on good terms with Reginald, which at present, in
fact, I have not; for though he is still in my power, I have given up
the very article by which our quarrel was produced, and at best the
honour of victory is doubtful. Send me your opinion on all these
matters, my dear Alicia, and let me know whether you can get lodgings
to suit me within a short distance of you.
Your most attached
S. VERNON.
XXVI
_Mrs. Johnson to Lady Susan._
Edward Street.
I am gratified by your reference, and this is my advice: that you come
to town yourself, without loss of time, but that you leave Frederica
behind. It would surely be much more to the purpose to get yourself
well established by marrying Mr. De Courcy, than to irritate him and
the rest of his family by making her marry Sir James. You should think
more of yourself and less of your daughter. She is not of a disposition
to do you credit in the world, and seems precisely in her proper place
at Churchhill, with the Vernons. But you are fitted for society, and it
is shameful to have you exiled from it. Leave Frederica, therefore, to
punish herself for the plague she has given you, by indulging that
romantic tender-heartedness which will always ensure her misery enough,
and come to London as soon as you can. I have another reason for urging
this: Mainwaring came to town last week, and has contrived, in spite of
Mr. Johnson, to make opportunities of seeing me. He is absolutely
miserable about you, and jealous to such a degree of De Courcy that it
would be highly unadvisable for them to meet at present. And yet, if
you do not allow him to see you here, I cannot answer for his not
committing some great imprudence—such as going to Churchhill, for
instance, which would be dreadful! Besides, if you take my advice, and
resolve to marry De Courcy, it will be indispensably necessary to you
to get Mainwaring out of the way; and you only can have influence
enough to send him back to his wife. I have still another motive for
your coming: Mr. Johnson leaves London next Tuesday; he is going for
his health to Bath, where, if the waters are favourable to his
constitution and my wishes, he will be laid up with the gout many
weeks. During his absence we shall be able to chuse our own society,
and to have true enjoyment. I would ask you to Edward Street, but that
once he forced from me a kind of promise never to invite you to my
house; nothing but my being in the utmost distress for money should
have extorted it from me. I can get you, however, a nice drawing-room
apartment in Upper Seymour Street, and we may be always together there
or here; for I consider my promise to Mr. Johnson as comprehending only
(at least in his absence) your not sleeping in the house. Poor
Mainwaring gives me such histories of his wife’s jealousy. Silly woman
to expect constancy from so charming a man! but she always was
silly—intolerably so in marrying him at all, she the heiress of a large
fortune and he without a shilling: one title, I know, she might have
had, besides baronets. Her folly in forming the connection was so great
that, though Mr. Johnson was her guardian, and I do not in general
share _his_ feelings, I never can forgive her.
Adieu. Yours ever,
ALICIA.
XXVII
_Mrs. Vernon to Lady De Courcy._
Churchhill.
This letter, my dear Mother, will be brought you by Reginald. His long
visit is about to be concluded at last, but I fear the separation takes
place too late to do us any good. She is going to London to see her
particular friend, Mrs. Johnson. It was at first her intention that
Frederica should accompany her, for the benefit of masters, but we
overruled her there. Frederica was wretched in the idea of going, and I
could not bear to have her at the mercy of her mother; not all the
masters in London could compensate for the ruin of her comfort. I
should have feared, too, for her health, and for everything but her
principles—there I believe she is not to be injured by her mother, or
her mother’s friends; but with those friends she must have mixed (a
very bad set, I doubt not), or have been left in total solitude, and I
can hardly tell which would have been worse for her. If she is with her
mother, moreover, she must, alas! in all probability be with Reginald,
and that would be the greatest evil of all. Here we shall in time be in
peace, and our regular employments, our books and conversations, with
exercise, the children, and every domestic pleasure in my power to
procure her, will, I trust, gradually overcome this youthful
attachment. I should not have a doubt of it were she slighted for any
other woman in the world than her own mother. How long Lady Susan will
be in town, or whether she returns here again, I know not. I could not
be cordial in my invitation, but if she chuses to come no want of
cordiality on my part will keep her away. I could not help asking
Reginald if he intended being in London this winter, as soon as I found
her ladyship’s steps would be bent thither; and though he professed
himself quite undetermined, there was something in his look and voice
as he spoke which contradicted his words. I have done with lamentation;
I look upon the event as so far decided that I resign myself to it in
despair. If he leaves you soon for London everything will be concluded.
Your affectionate, &c.,
C. VERNON.
XXVIII
_Mrs. Johnson to Lady Susan._
Edward Street.
My dearest Friend,—I write in the greatest distress; the most
unfortunate event has just taken place. Mr. Johnson has hit on the most
effectual manner of plaguing us all. He had heard, I imagine, by some
means or other, that you were soon to be in London, and immediately
contrived to have such an attack of the gout as must at least delay his
journey to Bath, if not wholly prevent it. I am persuaded the gout is
brought on or kept off at pleasure; it was the same when I wanted to
join the Hamiltons to the Lakes; and three years ago, when _I_ had a
fancy for Bath, nothing could induce him to have a gouty symptom.
I am pleased to find that my letter had so much effect on you, and that
De Courcy is certainly your own. Let me hear from you as soon as you
arrive, and in particular tell me what you mean to do with Mainwaring.
It is impossible to say when I shall be able to come to you; my
confinement must be great. It is such an abominable trick to be ill
here instead of at Bath that I can scarcely command myself at all. At
Bath his old aunts would have nursed him, but here it all falls upon
me; and he bears pain with such patience that I have not the common
excuse for losing my temper.
Yours ever,
ALICIA.
XXIX
_Lady Susan Vernon to Mrs. Johnson._
Upper Seymour Street.
My dear Alicia,—There needed not this last fit of the gout to make me
detest Mr. Johnson, but now the extent of my aversion is not to be
estimated. To have you confined as nurse in his apartment! My dear
Alicia, of what a mistake were you guilty in marrying a man of his age!
just old enough to be formal, ungovernable, and to have the gout; too
old to be agreeable, too young to die. I arrived last night about five,
had scarcely swallowed my dinner when Mainwaring made his appearance. I
will not dissemble what real pleasure his sight afforded me, nor how
strongly I felt the contrast between his person and manners and those
of Reginald, to the infinite disadvantage of the latter. For an hour or
two I was even staggered in my resolution of marrying him, and though
this was too idle and nonsensical an idea to remain long on my mind, I
do not feel very eager for the conclusion of my marriage, nor look
forward with much impatience to the time when Reginald, according to
our agreement, is to be in town. I shall probably put off his arrival
under some pretence or other. He must not come till Mainwaring is gone.
I am still doubtful at times as to marrying; if the old man would die I
might not hesitate, but a state of dependance on the caprice of Sir
Reginald will not suit the freedom of my spirit; and if I resolve to
wait for that event, I shall have excuse enough at present in having
been scarcely ten months a widow. I have not given Mainwaring any hint
of my intention, or allowed him to consider my acquaintance with
Reginald as more than the commonest flirtation, and he is tolerably
appeased. Adieu, till we meet; I am enchanted with my lodgings.
Yours ever,
S. VERNON.
XXX
_Lady Susan Vernon to Mr. De Courcy._
Upper Seymour Street.
I have received your letter, and though I do not attempt to conceal
that I am gratified by your impatience for the hour of meeting, I yet
feel myself under the necessity of delaying that hour beyond the time
originally fixed. Do not think me unkind for such an exercise of my
power, nor accuse me of instability without first hearing my reasons.
In the course of my journey from Churchhill I had ample leisure for
reflection on the present state of our affairs, and every review has
served to convince me that they require a delicacy and cautiousness of
conduct to which we have hitherto been too little attentive. We have
been hurried on by our feelings to a degree of precipitation which ill
accords with the claims of our friends or the opinion of the world. We
have been unguarded in forming this hasty engagement, but we must not
complete the imprudence by ratifying it while there is so much reason
to fear the connection would be opposed by those friends on whom you
depend. It is not for us to blame any expectations on your father’s
side of your marrying to advantage; where possessions are so extensive
as those of your family, the wish of increasing them, if not strictly
reasonable, is too common to excite surprize or resentment. He has a
right to require a woman of fortune in his daughter-in-law, and I am
sometimes quarrelling with myself for suffering you to form a
connection so imprudent; but the influence of reason is often
acknowledged too late by those who feel like me. I have now been but a
few months a widow, and, however little indebted to my husband’s memory
for any happiness derived from him during a union of some years, I
cannot forget that the indelicacy of so early a second marriage must
subject me to the censure of the world, and incur, what would be still
more insupportable, the displeasure of Mr. Vernon. I might perhaps
harden myself in time against the injustice of general reproach, but
the loss of _his_ valued esteem I am, as you well know, ill-fitted to
endure; and when to this may be added the consciousness of having