"Pretend! and why should the puppy pretend not to be in love?"

"Pride, pride and fashion. Young men are so governed by fashion, and so afraid of ridicule. There's a set of _fashionables_ now, with whom love is a _bore, _you know."

"I know! no, indeed, I know no such thing," said Mr. Palmer. "But this I know, that I hate pretences of all sorts; and if the man is in love, I should, for my part, like him the better for showing it."

"So he will, when you know him a little better. You are quite a stranger, and he is bashful."

"Bashful! Never saw so confident a man in any country."

"But he is shy under all that."

"Under! But I don't like characters where every thing is under something different from what appears at top."

"Well, take a day or two more to study him. Though I am his enemy, I must deal fairly by him, for poor Amelia's sake."

"You are a good mother, madam, an indulgent mother, and I honour and love you for it. I'll follow your example, and bear with this spendthrift-miser-c.o.xcomb sprig of quality for a day or two more, and try to like him, for Amelia's sake. But, if he's not worthy of her, he sha'n't have her, by St. George, he shall not--shall he, madam?"

"Oh, no, no; good night, my good sir."

What the manoeuvres of the next day might have effected, and how far Sir John Hunter profited by the new instructions which were given to him in consequence of this conversation, can never be accurately ascertained, because the whole united plan of operations was disturbed by a new and unforeseen event.

CHAPTER VIII.

"Un volto senza senno, Un petto senza core, un cor senz' alma, Un' alma senza fede." GUARINI.

"Here's glorious news of Captain Walsingham!" cried young Beaumont; "I always knew he would distinguish himself if he had an opportunity; and, thank G.o.d! he has had as fine an opportunity as heart could wish. Here, mother! here, Mr. Palmer, is an account of it in this day's paper! and here is a letter from himself, which Mr. Walsingham has just sent me."

"Oh, give _me_ the letter," cried Mrs. Beaumont, with affected eagerness.

"Let me have the paper, then," cried Mr. Palmer. "Where are my spectacles?"

"Are there any letters for _me?_" said Sir John Hunter. "Did my newspapers come? Albina, I desired that they should be forwarded here.

Mrs. Beaumont, can you tell me any thing of _my_ papers?"

"Dear Amelia, how interesting your brother looks when he is pleased!"

Albina whispered, quite loud enough to be heard.

"A most gallant action, by St. George!" exclaimed Mr. Palmer. "These are the things that keep up the honour of the British navy, and the glory of Britain."

"This Spanish ship that Captain Walsingham captured the day after the engagement is likely to turn out a valuable prize, too," said Mrs.

Beaumont. "I am vastly glad to find this by his letter, for the money will be useful to him, he wanted it so much. He does not say how much his share will come to, does he, Edward?"

"No, ma'am: you see he writes in a great hurry, and he has only time, as he says, to mention _the needful_."

"And is not the money _the needful?_" said Sir John Hunter, with a splenetic smile.

"With Walsingham it is only a secondary consideration," replied Beaumont; "honour is Captain Walsingham's first object. I dare say he has never yet calculated what his prize-money will be."

"Right, right!" reiterated Mr. Palmer; "then he is the right sort. Long may it be before our naval officers think more of prize-money than of glory! Long may it be before our honest tars turn into calculating pirates!"

"They never will or can whilst they have such officers as Captain Walsingham," said Beaumont.

"By St. George, he seems to be a fine fellow, and you a warm friend,"

said Mr. Palmer. "Ay, ay, the colonel's own son. But why have I never seen any of these Walsinghams since I came to the country? Are they ashamed of being related to me, because I am a merchant?"

"More likely they are too proud to pay court to you because you are so rich," said Mr. Beaumont. "But they did come to see you, sir,--the morning you were out so late, mother, you know."

"Oh, ay, true--how unfortunate!"

"But have not we horses? have not we carriages? have not we legs?" said Mr. Palmer. "I'll go and see these Walsinghams to-morrow, please G.o.d I live so long: for I am proud of my relationship to this young hero; and I won't be cast off by good people, let them be as proud as they will--that's their fault--but I will not stand on idle ceremony: so, my good Mistress Beaumont, we will all go in a body, and storm their castle to-morrow morning."

"An admirable plan! I like it of all things!" said Mrs. Beaumont. "How few, even in youth, are so active and enthusiastic as our good friend!

But, my dear Mr. Palmer--"

"But I wish I could see the captain himself. Is there any chance of his coming home?"

"Home! yes," said Beaumont: "did you not read his letter, sir? here it is; he will be at home directly. He says, 'perhaps a few hours after this letter reaches you, you'll see me.'"

"See him! Odds my life, I'm glad of it. And you, my little Amelia,"

said Mr. Palmer, tapping her shoulders as she stood with her back to him reading the newspaper; "and you, my little silent one, not one word have I heard from you all this time. Does not some spark of your father's spirit kindle within you on hearing of this heroic relation of ours?"

"Luckily for the ladies, sir," said Sir John Hunter, coming up, as he thought, to the lady's a.s.sistance--"luckily for young ladies, sir, they are not called upon to be heroes; and it would be luckier still for us men, if they never set themselves up for heroines--Ha! ha! ha! Miss Beaumont," continued he, "the shower is over; I'll order the horses out, that we may have our ride." Sir John left the room, evidently pleased with his own wit.

"Amelia, my love," said Mrs. Beaumont, who drew up also to give a.s.sistance at this critical juncture, "go, this moment, and write a note to your friend Miss Walsingham, to say that we shall all be with them early to-morrow: I will send a servant directly, that we may be sure to meet with them at home this time; you'll find pen, ink, and paper in my dressing-room, love."

Mrs. Beaumont drew Amelia's arm within hers, and, dictating kindest messages for the Walsinghams, led her out of the loom. Having thus successfully covered her daughter's retreat, our skilful manoeuvrer returned, all self-complacent, to the company. And next, to please the warm-hearted Mr. Palmer, she seemed to sympathize in his patriotic enthusiasm for the British navy: she p.r.o.nounced a panegyric on the _young hero,_ Captain Walsingham, which made the good old man rub his hands with exultation, and which irradiated with joy the countenance of her son. But, alas! Mrs. Beaumont's endeavours to please, or rather to dupe all parties, could not, even with her consummate address, always succeed: though she had an excellent memory, and great presence of mind, with peculiar quickness both of eye and ear, yet she could not always register, arrange, and recollect all that was necessary for the various parts she undertook to act. Scarcely had she finished her eulogium on Captain Walsingham, when, to her dismay, she saw close behind her Sir John Hunter, who had entered the room without her perceiving it. He said not one word; but his clouded brow showed his suspicions, and his extreme displeasure.

"Mrs. Beaumont," said he, after some minutes' silence, "I find I must have the honour of wishing you a good morning, for I have an indispensable engagement at home to dinner to-day."

"I thought, Sir John, you and Amelia were going to ride?"

"Ma'am, Miss Beaumont does not choose to ride--she told me, so this instant as I pa.s.sed her on the stairs. Oh! don't disturb her, I beg--she is writing to Miss Walsingham--I have the honour to wish you a good morning, ma'am."

"Well, if you are determined to go, let me say three words to you in the music-room, Sir John: though," added she, in a whisper intended to be heard by Mr. Palmer, "I know you do not look upon me as your friend, yet depend upon it I shall treat you and all the world with perfect candour."

Sir John, though sulky, could not avoid following the lady; and as soon as she had shut all the doors and double-doors of the music-room, she exclaimed, "It is always best to speak openly to one's friends. Now, my dear Sir John Hunter, how can you be so childish as to take ill of me what I really was forced to say, for _your_ interest, about Captain Walsingham, to Mr. Palmer? You know old Palmer is the oddest, most self-willed man imaginable! humour and please him I must, the few days he is with me. You know he goes on Tuesday--that's decided--Dr. Wheeler has seen him, has talked to him about his health, and it is absolutely necessary that he should return to the West Indies. Then he is perfectly determined to leave all he has to Amelia."

"Yes, ma'am; but how am I sure of being the better for that?"

interrupted Sir John, whose decided selfishness was a match for Mrs.

Beaumont's address, because it went without scruple or ceremony straight to his object; "for, ma'am, you can't think I'm such a fool as not to see that Mr. Palmer wishes me at the devil. Miss Beaumont gives me no encouragement; and you, ma'am, I know, are too good a politician to offend Mr. Palmer: so, if he declares in favour of this young _hero,_ Captain Walsingham, I may quit the field."

"But you don't consider that Mr. Palmer's young hero has never made any proposal for Amelia."

"Pshaw! ma'am--but I know, as well as you do, that he likes her, and propose he will for her now that he has money."