"Oh! yes, madam; but you have said so this many a week; and things are come to such a pa.s.s now, that husband says I shall not bring back the child without the money."

"What can I do?" said Mrs. Ludgate.

Lucy immediately took her purse out of her pocket, and whispered, "I will lend you whatever you want to pay the nurse, upon condition that you will give up the scheme of the balcony."

Mrs. Ludgate submitted to this condition; but she was not half so much obliged to Lucy for doing her this real service as she would have been if her friend had a.s.sisted in gratifying her vanity and extravagance.

Lucy saw what pa.s.sed in Mrs. Ludgate's mind, and nothing but the sense of the obligations she lay under to Belle's mother could have prevented her from breaking off all connexion with her.

But Mrs. Ludgate was now much inclined to court Lucy's acquaintance, as her approaching marriage with Mr. Allen, who was in good circ.u.mstances, made her appear quite a different person. Mrs. Allen would be able, and she hoped willing, to a.s.sist her from time to time with money. With this view, Belle showed Lucy a degree of attention and civility which she had disdained to bestow upon her friend whilst she was in an inferior situation. It was in vain, however, that this would-be fine lady endeavoured to draw the prudent Lucy out of her own sphere of life: though Lucy was extremely pretty, she had no desire to be admired; she was perfectly satisfied and happy at home, and she and her husband lived according to old Ludgate's excellent maxim, "Out of debt out of danger."

We shall not weary our readers with the history of all the petty difficulties into which Mr. and Mrs. Ludgate's foolish extravagance led them. The life of the _shabby genteel_ is most miserable. Servants'

wages unpaid, duns continually besieging the door, perpetual excuses, falsehoods to be invented, melancholy at home, and forced gaiety abroad!

Who would live such a life? Yet all this Mr. and Mrs. Ludgate endured, for the sake of outshining Mr. and Mrs. Pimlico.

It happened that one night, at a party, Mrs. Ludgate caught a violent cold, and her face became inflamed and disfigured by red spots. Being to go to a ball in a few days, she was very impatient to get rid of the eruption; and in this exigency she applied to Mr. Pimlico, the perfumer, who had often supplied her with cosmetics, and who now recommended a beautifying lotion. This quickly cleared her complexion; but she soon felt the effects of her imprudence: she was taken dangerously ill, and the physician who was consulted attributed her disease entirely to the preparation she had applied to her face. Whilst she was ill, an execution was brought against Mr. Ludgate's goods. Threatened with a jail, and incapable of taking any vigorous measures to avoid distress, he went to consult his friend, Tom Lewis. How this Mr. Lewis lived was matter of astonishment to all his acquaintance: he had neither estate, business, or any obvious means of supporting the expense in which he indulged.

"What a happy dog you are, Lewis!" said our hero: "how is it that you live better than I do?"

"You might live as well as I, if you were inclined," said Lewis.

Our hero was all curiosity; and Lewis exacted from him an oath of secrecy. A long pause ensued.

"Have you the courage," said Lewis, "to extricate yourself from all your difficulties at once?"

"To be sure I have; since I must either go to jail this night, or raise two hundred guineas for these cursed fellows!"

"You shall have it in half an hour," said Lewis, "if you will follow my advice."

"Tell me at once what I am to do, and I will do it," cried Leonard. "I will do any thing to save myself from disgrace, and from a jail."

Lewis, who now perceived his friend was worked up to the pitch he wanted, revealed the whole mystery. He was connected with a set of gentlemen, ingenious in the arts of forgery, from whom he purchased counterfeit bank-notes at a very cheap rate. The difficulty and risk of pa.s.sing them was extreme; therefore the confederates were anxious to throw this part of the business off their hands. Struck with horror at the idea of becoming an accomplice in such a scheme of villany, Leonard stood pale and silent, incapable of even thinking distinctly. Lewis was sorry that he had opened his mind so fully. "Remember your oath of secrecy!" said he.

"I do," replied Ludgate.

"And remember that you must become one of us before night, or go to jail."

Ludgate said he would take an hour to consider of the business, and here they parted; Lewis promising to call at his house before evening, to learn his final decision.

"And am I come to this?" thought the wretched man. "Would to Heaven I had followed my poor father's maxim! but it is now too late."

Mr. Ludgate, when he arrived at home, shut himself up in his own room, and continued walking backwards and forwards, for nearly an hour, in a state of mind more dreadful than can be described. Whilst he was in this situation, some one knocked at the door. He thought it was Lewis, and trembled from head to foot. It was only a servant with a parcel of bills, which several tradesmen, hearing that an execution was in the house, had hastened to present for payment. Among them were those of Mr.

Beech, the upholsterer, and Mrs. Ludgate's milliner and mantua-maker, which having been let to run on for above two years and a half, now amounted to a sum that astonished and shocked Mr. Ludgate. He could not remonstrate with his wife, or even vent his anger in reproaches, for she was lying senseless in her bed.

Before he had recovered from this shock, and whilst the tradesmen who brought the bills were still waiting for their money, Lewis and one of his companions arrived. He came to the point immediately. He produced bank-notes sufficient to discharge all his debts, and proposed to lend him this money on condition that he would enter into the confederacy as he had proposed. "All that we ask of you is to pa.s.s a certain number of notes for us every week. You will find this to your advantage; for we will allow you a considerable percentage, besides freeing you from your present embarra.s.sments."

The sight of the bank-notes, the pressure of immediate distress, and the hopes of being able to support the style of life in which he had of late appeared, all conspired to tempt Ludgate. When he had, early in life, vaunted to his young companions that he despised his father's old maxim, while he repeated his own, they applauded his spirit. They were not present, at this instant, to pity the wretched state into which that spirit had betrayed him. But our hero has yet much greater misery to endure. It is true his debts were now paid, and he was able to support an external appearance of affluence; but not one day, not one night, could he pa.s.s without suffering the horrors of a guilty conscience, and all the terrors which haunt the man who sees himself in hourly danger of detection. He determined to keep his secret cautiously from his wife: he was glad that she was confined to her bed at this time, lest her prying curiosity should discover what was going forward. The species of affection which he had once felt for her had not survived the first six months of their marriage; and their late disputes had rendered this husband and wife absolutely odious to each other. Each believed, and indeed pretty plainly a.s.serted, that they could live more handsomely asunder: but, alas! they were united for better and for worse.

Mrs. Ludgate's illness terminated in another eruption on her face. She was extremely mortified by the loss of her beauty, especially as Mrs.

Pimlico frequently contrasted her face with that of Mrs. Paget, who was now acknowledged to be the handsomest woman of Mrs. Pimlico's acquaintance. She endeavoured to make herself of consequence by fresh expense. Mr. Ludgate, to account for the sudden payment of his debts, and the affluence in which he now appeared to live, spread a report of his having had a considerable legacy left to him by a relation, who had died in a distant part of England. The truth of the report was not questioned; and for some time Mr. and Mrs. Ludgate were the envy of their acquaintance. How little the world, as it is called, can judge, by external appearances, of the happiness of those who excite admiration or envy!

"What lucky people the Ludgates are!" cried Mrs. Pimlico. The exclamation was echoed by a crowded card party, a.s.sembled at her house.

"But then," continued Mrs. Pimlico, "it is a pity poor Belle is so disfigured by that scurvy, or whatever it is, in her face. I remember the time when she was as pretty a woman as you could see: nay, would you believe it, she had once as fine a complexion as young Mrs. Paget!"

These observations circulated quickly, and did not escape Mrs. Ludgate's ear. Her vanity was deeply wounded; and her health appeared to her but a secondary consideration, in comparison with the chance of recovering her lost complexion. Mr. Pimlico, who was an eloquent perfumer, persuaded her that her former illness had nothing to do with the beautifying lotion she had purchased at his shop; and to support his a.s.sertions, he quoted examples of innumerable ladies, of high rank and fashion, who were in the constant habit of using this admirable preparation. The vain and foolish woman, notwithstanding the warnings which she had received from the physician who attended her during her illness, listened to the oratory of the perfumer, and bought half a dozen bottles of another kind of beautifying lotion. The eruption vanished from her face, after she had used the cosmetic; and, as she did not feel any immediate bad effects upon her health, she persisted in the practice for some months. The consequence was at last dreadful. She was found one morning speechless in her bed, with one side of her face distorted and motionless. During the night, she had been seized with a paralytic stroke: in a few days she recovered her speech; but her face continued totally disfigured.

This was the severest punishment that could have been inflicted on a woman of her character. She was now ashamed to show herself abroad, and incapable of being contented at home. She had not the friendship of a husband, or the affection of children, to afford her consolation and support. Her eldest child was a boy of about five years old, her youngest four. They were as fretful and troublesome as children usually are, whose education has been totally neglected; and the quarrels between them and Jack the footboy were endless, for Jack was alternately their tutor and their playfellow.

Beside the disorder created in this family by mischievous children, the servants were daily plagues. Nothing was ever done by them well or regularly; and though the master and mistress scolded without mercy, and perpetually threatened to turn Jack or Sukey away, yet no reformation in their manners was produced; for Jack and Sukey's wages were not paid, and they felt that they had the power in their own hands; so that they were rather the tyrants than the servants of the house.

CHAPTER III.

Mrs. Ludgate's temper, which never was sweet, was soured to such a degree, by these acc.u.mulated evils, that she was insufferable. Her husband kept out of the way as much as possible: he dined and supped at his club, or at the tavern: and, during the evenings and mornings, he was visible at home but for a few minutes. Yet, though his time was pa.s.sed entirely away from his wife, his children, and his home, he was not happy. His life was a life of perpetual fraud and fear. He was bound by his engagements with Lewis to pa.s.s for the confederates a certain number of forged notes every day. This was a perilous task! His utmost exertions and ingenuity were continually necessary to escape detection; and, after all, he was barely able to wrest from the hard hands of his _friends_ a sufficient profit upon his labour to maintain himself. How often did he look back, with regret, to the days when he stood behind the counter, in his father's shop! Then he had in Allen a real friend; but now he had in Lewis only a profligate and unfeeling a.s.sociate.

Lewis cared for no one but himself; and he was as avaricious as he was extravagant; "greedy of what belonged to others, prodigal of his own."

One night, Leonard went to the house where the confederates met, to settle with them for the last parcel of notes that he had pa.s.sed. Lewis insisted upon being paid for his services before Ludgate should touch a farthing. Words ran high between them: Lewis, having the most influence with his a.s.sociates, carried his point; and Leonard, who was in want of ready money, could supply himself only by engaging to pa.s.s double the usual quant.i.ty of forged notes during the ensuing month. Upon this condition, he obtained the supply for which he solicited. Upon his return home, he locked up the forged notes as usual in his escritoir. It happened the very next morning that Mrs. la Mode, the milliner, called upon Mrs. Ludgate. The ruling pa.s.sion still prevailed, notwithstanding the miserable state to which this lady was reduced. Even palsy could not deaden her personal vanity: her love of dress survived the total loss of her beauty; she became accustomed to the sight of her distorted features, and was still anxious to wear what was most genteel and becoming. Mrs. la Mode had not a more constant visitor.

"How are you, Mrs. Ludgate, this morning?" said she. "But I need not ask, for you look _surprising_ well. I just called to tell you a bit of a secret, that I have told to n.o.body else; but you being such a friend and a favourite, have a right to know it. You must know, I am going next week to bring out a new spring hat; and I have made one of my girls bring it up, to consult with you before any body else, having a great opinion of your taste and judgment: though it is a thing that must not be mentioned, because it would ruin me with Mrs. Pimlico, who made me swear she should have the first sight."

Flattered by having the first sight of the spring hat, Mrs. Ludgate was prepossessed in its favour; and, when she tried it on, she thought it made her look ten years younger. In short, it was impossible not to take one of the hats, though it cost three guineas, and was not worth ten shillings.

"Positively, ma'am, you must _patronize_ my spring hat," said the milliner.

Mrs. Ludgate was decided by the word patronize: she took the hat, and desired that it should be set down in her bill: but Mrs. la Mode was extremely concerned that she had made a rule, nay a vow, not to take any thing but ready money for the spring hats; and she could not break her vow, even for her favourite Mrs. Ludgate. This was at least a prudent resolution in the milliner, who had lately received notice, from Mr.

Ludgate, not to give his wife any goods upon credit, for that he was determined to refuse payment of her bills. The wife, who was now in a weak state of health, was not able as formerly to fight her battles with her husband upon equal terms. To cunning, the refuge of weakness, she had recourse; and she considered that, though she could no longer outscold, she could still outwit her adversary. She could not have the pleasure and honour of patronizing the spring hat, without ready money to pay for it; her husband, she knew, had always bank-notes in his escritoir; and she argued with herself that it was better to act without his consent than against it. She went and tried, with certain keys of her own, to open Leonard's desk; and open it came. She seized from a parcel of bank-notes as many as she wanted, and paid Mrs. la Mode with three of them for the spring hat. When her husband came home the next day, he did not observe that he had lost any of the notes; and, as he went out of the house again without once coming into the parlour where his wife was sitting, she excused herself to her conscience, for not telling him of the freedom she had taken, by thinking--It will do as well to tell him of it to-morrow: a few notes, out of such a parcel as he has in his desk locked up from me, can't signify; and he'll only bl.u.s.ter and bully when I do tell him of it; so let him find it out when he pleases.

The scheme of acting without her husband's consent in all cases, where she was morally certain that if she asked she could not obtain it, Mrs.

Ludgate had often pursued with much success. A few days after she had bought the spring hat, she invited Mrs. Pimlico, Mrs. Paget, and all her genteel friends, to tea and cards. Her husband, she knew, would be out of the way, at his club, or at the tavern. Mrs. Pimlico, and Mrs. Paget, and all their genteel friends, did Mrs. Ludgate the honour to wait upon her on the appointed evening, and she had the satisfaction to appear upon this occasion in the new spring hat; while her friend, Mrs.

Pimlico, whispered to young Mrs. Paget, "She patronize the new spring hat! What a fool Mrs. la Mode makes of her! A death's head in a wreath of roses! How frightfully ridiculous!"

Unconscious that she was an object of ridicule to the whole company, Mrs. Ludgate sat down to cards in unusually good spirits, firmly believing Mrs. la Mode's comfortable a.s.sertion, "that the spring hat made her look ten years younger." She was in the midst of a panegyric upon Mrs. la Mode's taste, when Jack, the footboy, came behind her chair, and whispered that three men were below, who desired to speak to her immediately.

"Men! gentlemen, do you mean?" said Mrs. Ludgate.

"No, ma'am, not gentlemen." "Then send them away about their business, dunce," said the lady. "Some tradesfolk, I suppose; tell them I'm engaged with company."

"But, ma'am, they will not leave the house without seeing you, or Mr.

Ludgate."

"Let them wait, then, till Mr. Ludgate comes in. I have nothing to say to them. What's their business, pray?"

"It is something about a note, ma'am, that you gave to Mrs. la Mode, the other day."

"What about it?" said Mrs. Ludgate, putting down her cards.