Love and Life: An Old Story in Eighteenth Century Costume
poor daughter, and I knew him well enough to be aware that to put her
entirely and secretly out of his reach was the only chance preserving
her from his pursuit. I had excellent accounts of the worthy man to whom
I meant her to be consigned, and I knew that when she wrote to you as a
West Indian queen you would be able to forgive your poor cousin. I see
what you would say, but sending her to you was impossible, since I had
to secure her both from Amyas and from Mar. It would only have involved
you in perplexities innumerable, and might have led even to bloodshed! I
may not have acted wisely, but weak women in difficulties know not which
path to choose.”
“There is always the straight one,” said he.
“Ah! you strong men can easily says so, but for us poor much-tried
women! However,” she said suddenly changing her tone, “Love has
check-mated us, and I rejoice. Your daughter will support the credit
of the name! I am glad the new Lady Belamour will not be that little
termagant milkmaid Belle, whom circumstances compelled me to inflict
upon my poor boy! The title will be your daughter’s alone. I have
promised my husband that in the New World I will sink into plain Mrs.
Wayland.” Then with a burst of genuine feeling she exclaimed, “He _is_ a
good man, Harry.”
“He is indeed, Urania, I believe you will yet be happier than you have
ever been.”
“What, among barbarians who never saw a loo-table, and get the modes
three months too late! And you are laughing at me, but see I am a poor
frivolous being, not sufficient to myself like your daughters! They say
Aurelia was as sprightly as a spring butterfly all the time she was shut
up at Bowstead with no company save the children and old Belamour!”
“They are lovely children, madam, Aurelia dotes on them, and you will
soon find them all you need.”
“Their father is never weary of telling me so. He is never so happy as
when they hang about him and tell him of Cousin Aura, or Sister Aura as
they love to call her.”
“It was charming to see them dance round her when he brought them to
spend the day with her. Mr. Wayland brought his good kinswoman, who will
take charge of them on the voyage, and Aurelia was a little consoled at
the parting by seeing how tender and kind she is with them.”
“Aye! If I do not hate that woman it will be well, for she is as much a
duenna for me as governess for the children! Heigh-ho! what do not our
follies bring on us? We poor creatures should never be left to the great
world.”
The pretty air of repentance was almost irresistible, well as the Major
knew it for the mood of the moment, assumed as what would best satisfy
him.
“I rejoice,” she went on, “in spite of my lovely daughter-in-law’s
discretion, she will be well surrounded with guardians. Has the
excellent Betty consented?”
“At last, madam. My persuasions were vain till she found that Mr.
Belamour would gladly come with us to Austria, and that she should be
enabled to watch over both her young sister and me.”
“There, again, I give myself credit, Harry. Would the sacred flame ever
have awakened in yonder misanthrope had I not sent your daughter to
restore him to life?” She spoke playfully, but the Major could not help
thinking she had persuaded herself that all his present felicity was
owing to her benevolence, and that she would persuade him of it too, if
she went on much longer looking at him so sweetly. He _would_ not tax
her with the wicked note she had written to account for Mr. Belamour’s
disappearance, and which she had forgotten; he felt that he could not
impel one, whom he could not but still regard with tenderness, to utter
any more untruths and excuses.
“By the by,” she added, “does your daughter take my waiting-maid after
all? I would have forgiven her, for she is an admirable hairdresser,
but Wayland says he cannot have so ingenious person in his house;
though after all I do not see that she is a bit worse than others of
her condition, and she herself insists on trying to become Aurelia’s
attendant, vowing that the sight of her is as good as any Methodist
sermon!”
“Precisely, madam. We were all averse to taking her with us, but Aurelia
said she owed her much gratitude; and she declared so earnestly that the
sight of my dear child brought back all the virtuous and pious thoughts
she had forgotten, that even Betty’s heart was touched, and she is to go
with us, on trial.”
“Oh! she is as honest as regards money and jewels as ever I knew a
waiting-maid, but for the rest!” Lady Belamour shrugged her shoulders.
“However, one is as good as another, and at least she will never let her
lady go a fright! See here, Harry. These are the Delavie jewels: I shall
never need them more: carry them to your daughters.”
“Nay, your own daughters, Urania.”
“Never mind the little wretches. Their father will provide for them, and
they will marry American settlers in the forests. What should they do
with court jewels? It is his desire. See here, this suit of pearls is
what I wore at my wedding with Amyas’s father, I should like Aurelia to
be married in them. Farewell, Harry, you did better for yourself than if
you had taken me. Yet maybe I might been a better woman---” She stopped
short as she looked at his honest face, and eyes full of tears.
“No, Urania,” he said, “man’s love could not have done for you what only
another Love can do. May you yet find that and true Life.”
The sisters were not married at the same time. Neither Mr. Belamour nor
his Elizabeth could endure to make part of the public pageant that it
was thought well should mark the _real_ wedding at Bowstead. So their
banns were put up at St. Clement Danes, and one quiet morning they
slipped out, with no witnesses but the Major, Aurelia, and Eugene, and
were wedded there in the most unobtrusive manner.
As to the great marriage, a month later at Bowstead, there was a certain
bookseller named Richardson, who by favour of Hargrave got a view of it,
and who is thought there to have obtained some ideas for the culminating
wedding of his great novel.
A little later, the following letter was written from the excellent Mrs.
Montagu to her correspondent Mrs. Elizabeth Carter. “There was yesterday
presented, preparatory to leaving England for Vienna, the young Lady
Belamour, incomparably the greatest beauty who has this year appeared
at Court. Every one is running after her, but she appears perfectly
unconscious of the _furore_ she has excited, and is said to have been
bred up in all simplicity in the country, and to be as good as she is
fair. Her young husband, Sir Amyas Belamour, is a youth of much promise,
and they seem absolutely devoted, with eyes only for each other. They
are said to have gone through a series of adventures as curious as they
are romantic; and indeed, when they made their appearance, there was a
general whisper, begun by young Mr. Horace Walpole, of
“CUPID AND PSYCHE.”