Discipline - Part 7
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Part 7

'Dear Lady St Edmunds!' cried I, kissing her hand, 'do not talk of entreaty. Lay some command upon me less agreeable to my inclination, that I may show how eager I am to obey you. But indeed, I fear--I think--I--after giving my promise to Miss Mortimer, I believe I ought not to retract.'

'Why not, my dear?' said Lady St Edmunds. 'It is only changing your mind, you know, which the whole s.e.x does every day.'

'You know, Ellen,' said Miss Arnold, 'the case is quite altered since you talked of it with Miss Mortimer. She did not object so much to the masked ball, as to your going with----'

'Juliet!' said I, stopping her with a frown, for I felt shocked that she should tell Lady St Edmunds that her nephew's attendance was objected to by Miss Mortimer.

'Ah!' cried Lady St Edmunds, with the prettiest air of reproach imaginable, 'I see Miss Arnold is more inclined to oblige me than you are; so to her I commit my cause for the present, for now I positively must tear myself away. Good-by, my pretty advocate. Be sure you make me victorious over the duenna. Farewell, my lovely perverse one,' continued she, kissing my cheek. 'I shall send you tickets, however. I issue only three hundred.'

Lady St Edmunds retired, and left my heart divided between her and the masquerade. She was scarcely gone, when Miss Mortimer came in; and, full of my charming visiter, I instantly began to p.r.o.nounce her eulogium. I thought Miss Mortimer listened with very repulsive coldness; of course, a little heat of a less gentle kind was added to the warmth of my admiration, and my language became more impa.s.sioned. 'I have been told that Lady St Edmunds is very insinuating,' said Miss Mortimer; and this was all the answer I could obtain. My praise became more rapturous than ever. Miss Mortimer remained silent for some moments after I had talked myself out of breath. Perhaps she was considering how she might reply without offence. 'Such manners,' said she, 'must indeed be engaging. I see their effect in the eloquence of your praise. I wish it were always safe to yield to their attraction.'

'Bless me! Miss Mortimer,' interrupted I, 'you are the most suspicious being! I see you want me to suspect Lady St Edmunds of every thing that is bad, and for no earthly reason but because she is delightful!'

'Indeed, my dear Ellen,' returned Miss Mortimer, 'you wrong me. I should be the last person to taint your mind with any unfounded suspicion. But it is natural, you know, that years should teach us caution.'

'Oh!' exclaimed I, fervently clasping my hands, 'if age must chill all my affections, and leave me only a dead soul chained to a half-living body, may Heaven grant that my years may be few! May I go to my grave ere my heart cease to love and trust its fellows!'

'Dearest child!' cried Miss Mortimer, 'may many a happy year improve and refine your affections; and may they long survive the enthusiasm which paints their objects as faultless! But is it not better that you should know a little of Lady St Edmunds' character, before intimacy confirm her power over you?'

'Why should I know any thing more of her than I do? I can see that she has the most penetrating understanding, the most affectionate heart!'

'No doubt these are great endowments; but something more may be necessary. The proverb is not the less true for its vulgarity, which tells us, that the world will estimate us by our a.s.sociates; and, what is still more important, the estimate will prove just. If you form intimacies with the worthless, or even with the suspected----'

'Worthless! suspected!' exclaimed I, my blood boiling with indignation; 'who dares to use such epithets in speaking of Lady St Edmunds?'

'Be calm, Ellen. I did not, at the moment that I uttered these offensive words, intend any personal application. If I had, my language should have been less severe. But I can inform you, that the world has been less cautious, and that those epithets have been very freely applied to Lady St Edmunds!'

'Yes! perhaps by a set of waspish bigots, envious of her, who is herself so far above the meanness of envy,--or who cannot pardon her for refusing to make Sunday a day of penance!'

Miss Mortimer, though naturally one of the most timid creatures upon earth, was as inflexible in regard to some particular opinions, as if she had had the nerves of a Hercules. 'Indeed, Ellen,' said she, calmly, 'it would be ungrateful in you, or any other woman of fashion, to charge the world with intolerance towards Sabbath-breakers. I fear that Lady St Edmunds would give little offence by her Sunday's parties, if she were circ.u.mspect in her more private conduct.'

'Bless my heart, Miss Mortimer!' cried I, 'what have I to do with the private conduct of all my acquaintance? What is it to me, if Lady St Edmunds spoil her children, or rule her husband, or lose a few hundred pounds at cards now and then?'

Miss Mortimer smiled.--'Even bigots,' said she, 'must acquit her Ladyship of all these faults, for she takes no concern with her children,--she is separated from her husband,--and certainly does not _lose_ at cards.'

'And so you, who pretend to preach charity towards all mankind, can condescend to retail second-hand calumny! You would have me desert an amiable, and, I am persuaded, an injured woman, merely because she has the misfortune to be slandered!'

'When you know me better, Ellen,' said Miss Mortimer, meekly, 'you will find, that it is not my practice to repeat any scandalous tale, without some better reason than my belief that it is true. I shall not at present defend the justice of the censures which have fallen upon Lady St Edmunds. I will merely offer you my opinion, in hopes that, a few hours hence, you may reconsider it. If a friend, whose worth you had proved, whose affection you had secured, were made a mark for the shafts of calumny,--far be it from you to seek a base shelter, leaving her unshielded, to be 'hit by the archers;' but, against the formation of a new acquaintance, the slightest suspicion ought, in my opinion, to be decisive. The frailty of a good name is as proverbial as its value; and virgin fame is far too precious to be ventured upon uncertainty, and far too frail to escape uninjured even from the appearance of hazard.'

This speech was so long that it gave me time to cool, and so incontrovertible, that I found some difficulty in replying. Before I could summon a rejoinder, Miss Mortimer, who never pursued a victory, had quitted the room. She had left me an unpleasant subject of meditation; but she had allowed me to postpone the consideration of it for a few hours; so, in the mean time, I turned my thoughts to the masquerade.

And first, by way of safeguard against temptation, I thought it best to lay down an immutable resolution that I would not go. It was very hard, indeed, to be deprived of such a harmless amus.e.m.e.nt; but, as I had given an unlucky promise, I purposed magnanimously to adhere to it, resolving, however, to indemnify myself the next opportunity. Thus mortified, I began to indulge my fancy in painting what _might have been_ the pleasures of the masquerade. I imagined (there was surely no harm in imagining!) how well I could have personated the fair Fatima,--how happily the turban would have accorded with the Grecian turn of my head,--how softly the transparent sleeves of my caftan would have shaded my rounded arm,--how favourably the Turkish costume would have shown the light limb, and the elastic step. I invented a hundred witticisms which I might have uttered,--a hundred compliments which I might have received. Above all, I dwelt upon the approbation, the endearments of the charming Lady St Edmunds, till my heart bounded with the ideal joy.

When I retired to rest, the same gay visions surrounded me; and I gladly awoke to pursue them again in my waking dreams.

How suitable to our nature is that commandment which places upon the thoughts the first restraints of virtue! It was painful to interrupt my delightful reverie, by renewing my resolutions of self-denial, so I pa.s.sed them over as already fixed, insensible how fatally I was undermining their foundations. The bribe must be poor indeed, which the aids of imagination cannot render irresistible. The longer my fancy dwelt upon my lost pleasure, the more severe seemed my privation, the more unfounded Miss Mortimer's prejudice. From the wish that the thing had been right, the step was easy to the belief that it could not be _very_ wrong. Before the morning, my inclination had so far bewildered my judgment, that Miss Arnold found no difficulty in persuading me to refer the matter to my father; and, regardless of my promise, to abide by his decision.

She herself undertook the statement of the case; for it happened, I know not how, that, even when she spoke only truth, her statements always served a purpose better than mine. The effect of her adroit representation was, that my father decided in favour of the masquerade; observing that 'Miss Mortimer, though a very good woman, had some odd notions, which it would not do for every body to adopt.'

Thus it seemed determined that I was to enjoy the amus.e.m.e.nt upon which I had set my heart. And yet I was not satisfied. My gay visions were no sooner likely to be realised, than they lost half their charms. A slight scrutiny into my own mind would have enabled me to trace the cause of this change to a consciousness of error; but a vague antic.i.p.ation of the issue was sufficient to prevent me from entering upon the enquiry. I therefore contented myself with attempting to impose upon my own judgment, by a.s.serting that, since my father was satisfied, I was at full liberty to pursue my inclination. 'To be sure,' said Miss Arnold, 'when Mr Percy has given his permission, who else has any right to interfere?'

'And will you, my dear sir, speak of it to Miss Mortimer,' said I, anxious to transfer that task to any one who would undertake it.

'Oh, I'll manage all that,' cried Miss Arnold. 'If Mr Percy were to mention the matter to Miss Mortimer, it would look as if he thought himself accountable to her; and then there would be no end of it; for she fancies already that she should be consulted in every thing that concerns you,--as if Mr Percy, who has so long superintended the greatest concerns in the kingdom, could not direct his own family without her interference!'

I believe my father, as well as myself, might have some latent misgivings of mind, which made him not unwilling to accept of Miss Arnold's offered services. 'I have so many important affairs to mind,'

said he, 'that I shall probably think no more of such a trifle; so I commission you, Miss Juliet, to let Miss Mortimer know my opinion; which, I dare say, you will do discreetly, for you seem a civil, judicious young lady. Elizabeth, poor soul, meant all for the best; thinking to save me a few pounds, I suppose. But you may let her know, that what it may be very commendable in her to save is altogether below my notice. When a man has thousands, and tens of thousands pa.s.sing through his hands every day, it gives him a liberal way of thinking. But as for a woman, who never was mistress of a hundred pounds at a time, what can she know of liberality?'

My father had now entered on a favourite topic, the necessary connection between riches and munificence. Miss Arnold listened respectfully, approving by smiles, nods, and single words of a.s.sent; while I stood wrapt in my meditations, if I may give that name to the succession of unsightly images which conscience forced into my mind, and which I as quickly banished. Having triumphantly convinced an antagonist who ventured not upon opposition, my father withdrew; and left my friend and me to consult upon our communication to Miss Mortimer.

'She will be in a fine commotion,' said I, endeavouring to smile, 'when she hears that we are going to this masquerade after all. But since you have undertaken the business, Juliet, you may break it to her to-night, while I am at the opera; and then the fracas will be partly over before I come home.'

'I have been just thinking,' said Miss Arnold, 'all the time that your father was making that fine oration, that it would be wiser not to break it to her at all. Where is the necessity for her knowing any thing of the matter? We shall have other invitations for the same evening; so we may go somewhere else first, and afterwards look in for an hour or two at the ball. n.o.body need know that we have been there.'

'What, Juliet! would you have me steal off in that clandestine way, as if I were afraid or ashamed to do what my father approves of? If I am to act in defiance of Miss Mortimer, I will do it openly, and not slavishly pilfer my right, as if I did not dare to a.s.sert it.'

'Don't be angry, Ellen,' said Miss Arnold, soothingly; 'I shall most willingly do whatever you think best. But, for my part, I would almost as soon give up the masquerade, as be lectured about it for the next three weeks.'

'But, to give Miss Mortimer her due,' returned I, 'she does not lecture much.'

'That is true,' replied Miss Arnold. 'But then she will look so dolefully at us. I am sure I would rather be scolded heartily at once.'

In this last sentiment, I cordially sympathised; for the silent upbraiding of the eye is the very poetry of reproach--it addresses itself to the imagination. 'I wish,' cried I, sighing from the very bottom of my heart, 'that I had never heard of this ball!'

'In my opinion,' said Miss Arnold, 'it would save both us and Miss Mortimer a great deal of vexation, if she were never to hear more of it.'

'Say no more of that, Juliet,' interrupted I; 'I am determined not to take another step in the business without her knowledge.'

Miss Arnold was silent for a few moments; and when her voice again drew my attention, I perceived tears in her eyes. 'Well, Ellen,' said she, 'since you are so determined, I see only one way of settling the matter quietly. I will give my ticket to Miss Mortimer,--she can have no objection to your going, if she be there herself to watch you.'

'Never name such a thing to me, Juliet! What! leave you moping alone, fancying all the pleasure you might have had, while I am amusing myself abroad. I had rather never see a mask in my life!'

'I should prefer any thing to bringing her ill-humour upon you,' said Miss Arnold; 'and since you persist in telling her, I see no other way of escape. I shall most cheerfully resign the masquerade to give you pleasure.'

'My own dear Juliet!' cried I, locking my arms round her neck, while unbidden tears filled my eyes, 'how can you talk of giving my pleasure by sacrificing your own, when you know that more than half the delight in my life is to share its joys with you.' Nor were these the empty sounds of compliment, nor even the barren expression of a pa.s.sing fervour. My purse, my ornaments, my amus.e.m.e.nts, even the a.s.siduities of my admirers, all on which my foolish heart was most fixed, I freely shared with her. Yet, this same Juliet--but is it for me to complain of ingrat.i.tude?--for me, who, favoured by an all-bountiful Benefactor, abused his gifts, despised his warnings, neglected his commands, abhorred his intercourse! Let those who are conscious of similar demerit cease to reproach the less flagrant baseness, which repays with evil the feeble benefits that man bestows on man.

On the present occasion, Juliet's influence prevailed with me so far, that, before we separated, I had agreed to a compromise. I persisted, indeed, in refusing to go clandestinely to the masquerade, but I adhered to my purpose of going; and pledged my word, that, in order to avoid all importunity on the subject, I would leave Miss Mortimer in ignorance of my determination, till the very hour of its accomplishment. Miss Arnold undertook to keep my father silent, which she performed in the most dexterous manner; and with the more ease, because, perhaps, he was conscious that the subject furnished materials for confession as well as for narrative.

CHAPTER VIII

_--You squander freely, But have you wherewithal? Have you the fund For these outgoings? If you have, go on; If you have not--stop in good time, before You outrun honesty._

c.u.mberland (from Diphilus).

In defiance of Miss Mortimer's advice, I returned Lady St Edmunds' visit without delay. I made, indeed, some general enquiries into the character of my new favourite; myself unwilling to hear, I learnt that she was said to play games of chance with extraordinary skill and success; and that she was suspected of impropriety in a point where detection is still more fatal. It is unfortunate that prudence and self-sufficiency are so rarely found together since he who will make no use of the wisdom of others, certainly needs an extraordinary fund of his own. I was predetermined to consider whatever could be advanced against Lady St Edmunds, as the effect of malicious misrepresentation. My self-conceit pointed me out as no improper person to stem the tide of unjustice; and, by an admirable, though in this case an abused, provision in our nature, my kindly feelings towards her were strengthened at once by my intentions to serve her, and by my resentment of her supposed wrongs.