Then, sir, you will not take it amiss, if my son, by his a.s.siduities, can prevail upon Miss Byron to think that he has merit, and that his heart is wholly devoted to her.

'Amiss, madam!--No!--In justice, in honour, I cannot. May Miss Byron be, as she deserves to be, one of the happiest women on earth in her nuptials. I have heard a great character of Lord D----. He has a very large estate. He may boast of his mother--G.o.d forbid, that I, a man divided in myself, not knowing what I can do, hardly sometimes what I ought to do, should seek to involve in my own uncertainties the friend I revere; the woman I so greatly admire: her beauty so attracting; so proper therefore for her to engage a generous protector in the married state.'

Generous man! thought I. O how my tears ran down my cheeks, as I hid my face behind the countess's chair!

But will you allow me, sir, proceeded the countess, to ask you, were you freed from all your uncertainties--

'Permit me, madam,' interrupted he, 'to spare you the question you were going to put. As I know not what will be the result of my journey abroad, I should think myself a very selfish man, and a very dishonourable one to two ladies of equal delicacy and worthiness, if I sought to involve, as I hinted before, in my own uncertainties, a young lady whose prudence and great qualities must make herself and any man happy, whom she shall favour with her hand.

'To be still more explicit,' proceeded he, With what face could I look up to a woman of honour and delicacy, such a one as the lady before whom I now stand, if I could own a wish, that, while my honour has laid me under obligation to one lady, if she shall be permitted to accept of me, I should presume to hope, that another, no less worthy, would hold her favour for me suspended, till she saw what would be the issue of the first obligation? No, madam; I could sooner die, than offer such indignity to both! I am fettered, added he; but Miss Byron is free: and so is the lady abroad. My attendance on her at this time, is indispensable; but I make not any conditions for myself--My reward will be in the consciousness of having discharged the obligations that I think myself under, as a man of honour.'

The countess's voice changed in repeating this speech of his: and she stopt to praise him; and then went on.

You are THE man, indeed, sir!--But then give me leave to ask you, as I think it very likely that you will be married before your return to England, Whether, now that you have been so good as to speak favourably of my son, and that you call Miss Byron sister, you will oblige him with a recommendation to that sister?

'The Countess of D---- shews, by this request, her value for a young lady who deserves it; and the more, for its being, I think, (excuse me, madam) a pretty extraordinary one. But what a presumption would it be in me, to suppose that I had SUCH an interest with Miss Byron, when she has relations as worthy of her, as she is of them?'

You may guess, my dear, said the countess, that I should not have put this question, but as a trial of his heart. However, I asked his pardon; and told him, that I would not believe he gave it me, except he would promise to mention to Miss Byron, that I had made him a visit on this subject. [Methinks, Lucy, I should have been glad that he had not let me know that he was so forgiving!]

And now, my dear, said the lady, let me turn about. She did; and put one arm round my neck, and with my own handkerchief wiped my eyes, and kissed my cheek; and when she saw me a little recovered, she addressed me as follows:

Now, my good young creature, [O that you would let me call you daughter in my way! for I think I must always call you so, whether you do, or not]

let me ask you, as if I were your real mother, 'Have you any expectation that Sir Charles Grandison will be yours?'

Dear madam, is not this as hard a question to be put to me, as that which you put to him?

Yes, my dear--full as hard. And I am as ready to ask your pardon, as I was his, if you are really displeased with me for putting it. Are you, Miss Byron? Excuse me, Mrs. Reeves, for thus urging your lovely cousin: I am at least ent.i.tled to the excuse Sir Charles Grandison made for me, that it is a demonstration of my value for her.

I have declared, madam, returned I, and it is from my heart, that I think he ought to be the husband of the lady abroad: and though I prefer him to all the men I ever saw, yet I have resolved, if possible, to conquer the particular regard I have for him. He has in a very n.o.ble manner offered me his friendship, so long as it may be accepted without interfering with any other attachments on my part: and I will be satisfied with that.

A friendship so pure, replied the countess, as that of such a man, is consistent with any other attachments. My Lord D---- will, with his whole soul, contribute all in his power to strengthen it: he admires Sir Charles Grandison: he would think it a double honour to be acquainted with him through you. Dearest Miss Byron, take another worthy young man into your friendship, but with a tenderer name: I shall then claim a fourth place in it for myself. O my dear! What a quadruple knot will you tie!

Your ladyship does me too much honour, was all I could just then reply.

I must have an answer, my dear: I will not take up with a compliment.

This, then, madam, is my answer--I hope I am an honest creature: I have not a heart to give.

Then you have expectations, my dear.--Well, I will call you mine, if I can. Never did I think that I could have made the proposal, that I am going to make you: but in my eyes, as well as in my lord's, you are an incomparable young woman.--This is it.--We will not think of the alliance proposed to us (it is yet but a proposal, and to which we have not returned any answer) till we see what turn the affair Sir Charles is gone upon, takes. You once said, you could prefer my son to any of the men that had hitherto applied to you for your favour. Your affections to Sir Charles were engaged before you knew us. Will you allow my son this preference, which will be the first preference, if Sir Charles engages himself abroad?

Your ladyship surprises me: shall I not improve by the example you have just now set before me? Who was it that said (and a man too) 'With what face could I look up to a woman of honour and delicacy, such a one as the lady before whom I now stand, if I could own a wish, that, while' my heart leaned to one person, I should think of keeping another in suspense till I saw whether I could or could not be the other's? 'No, madam, I would sooner die,' as Sir Charles said, 'than offer such an indignity to both.' But I know, madam, that you only made this proposal, as you did another to Sir Charles Grandison, as a trial of my heart.

Upon my word, my dear, I should, I think, be glad to be ent.i.tled to such an excuse: but I was really in earnest; and now take a little shame to myself.

What charming ingenuousness in this lady!

She clasped her arms about me, and kissed my cheek again. I have but one plea, said she, to make for myself; I could not have fallen into such an error, (the example so recently given to the contrary,) had I not wished you to be, before any woman in the world, Countess of D----. n.o.ble creature! No t.i.tle can give you dignity. May your own wishes be granted!

My cousin's eyes ran over with pleasure.

The countess asked, When I returned to Northamptonshire? I told her my intention. She charged me to see her first. But can tell you, said she, my lord shall not be present when you come: not once more will I trust him in your company; and if he should steal a visit, unknown to me, let not your cousin see him, Mrs. Reeves. He does indeed admire you, love.

I acknowledged, with a grateful heart, her goodness to me. She engaged me to correspond with her when I got home. Her commands were an honour done me, that I could not refuse myself. Her son, she smilingly told me, should no more see my letters, than my person.

At her going away--I will tell you one thing, said she: I never before, in a business which my heart was set upon, was so effectually silenced by a precedent produced by myself in the same conversation. I came with an a.s.surance of success. When our hearts are engaged in a hope, we are apt to think every step we take for the promoting it, reasonable: Our pa.s.sions, my dear, will evermore run away with our judgment. But, now I think of it, I must, when I say our, make two exceptions; one for you, and one for Sir Charles Grandison.

But, Lucy, tell me--May I, do you think, explain the meaning of the word SELFISH used by Sir Charles in the conclusion of the library conference at Colnebrook, (and which puzzled me then to make out,) by his disclaiming of selfishness in the conversation with the countess above recited? If I may, what an opening of his heart does that word give in my favour, were he at liberty? Does it not look, my dear, as if his honour checked him, when his love would have prompted him to wish me to preserve my heart disengaged till his return from abroad? Nor let it be said, that it was dishonourable in him to have such a thought, as it was checked and overcome; and as it was succeeded by such an emotion, that he was obliged to depart abruptly from me.--Let me repeat the words--You may not have my letter at hand which relates that affecting address to me; and it is impossible for me, while I have memory, to forget them. He had just concluded his brief history of Clementina--'And now, madam, what can I say?--Honour forbids me!--Yet honour bids me--Yet I cannot be unjust, ungenerous, selfish!'--If I may flatter myself, Lucy, that he did love me when he said this, and that he had a conflict in his n.o.ble heart between the love on one side so hopeless, (for I could not forgive him, if he did not love, as well as pity, Clementina,) and on the other not so hopeless, were there to have been no bar between--Shall we not pity him for the arduous struggle? Shall we not see that honour carried it, even in favour of the hopeless against the hopeful, and applaud him the more for being able to overcome? How shall we call virtue by its name, if it be not tried; and if it hath no contest with inclination?

If I am a vain self-flatterer, tell me, chide me, Lucy; but allow me, however, at the same time, this praise, if I can make good my claim to it, that my conquest of my pa.s.sion is at least as glorious for me, as his is for him, were he to love me ever so well; since I can most sincerely, however painfully, subscribe to the preference which honour, love, compa.s.sion, unitedly, give to CLEMENTINA.

LETTER x.x.x

MISS BYRON.--IN CONTINUATION MONDAY NIGHT.

My cousins and I, by invitation, supped with Lady G---- this evening.

Lord and Lady L---- were there; Lady Olivia also, and Lady Maffei.

I have set them all into a consternation, as they expressed themselves, by my declaration of leaving London on my return home early on Friday morning next. I knew, that were I to pa.s.s the whole summer here, I must be peremptory at last. The two sisters vow, that I shall not go so soon.

They say, that I have seen so few of the town diversions--Town diversions, Lucy!--I have had diversion enough, of one sort!--But in your arms, my dear friends, I shall have consolation--And I want it.

I have great regrets, and shall have hourly more, as the day approaches, on the leaving of such dear and obliging friends: but I am determined.

My cousin's coach will convey me to Dunstable; and there, I know, I shall meet with my indulgent uncle, or your brother. I would not have it publicly known, because of the officious gentlemen in the neighbourhood.

Dr. Bartlett intended to set out for Grandison-hall to-morrow: but from the natural kindness of his heart he has suspended his journey to Thursday next. No consideration, therefore, shall detain me, if I am well.

My cousins are grieved: they did not expect that I would be a word and a blow, as they phrase it.

Lady Olivia expressed herself concerned, that she, in particular, was to lose me. She had proposed great pleasure, she said, in the parties she should make in my company. But, after what Emily told me, she appears to me as a Medusa; and were I to be thought by her a formidable rival, I might have as much reason to be afraid of the potion, as the man she loves of the poniard. Emily has kept the secret from every body but me.

And I rely on the inviolable secrecy of all you, my friends.

Lord and Lady L---- had designed to go to Colnebrook to-morrow, or at my day, having hopes of getting me with them: but now, they say, they will stay in town till they can see whether I am to be prevailed upon, or will be obdurate.

Lady Olivia inquired after the distance of Northamptonshire. She will make the tour of England, she says, and visit me there. I was obliged to say I should take her visit as an honour.

Wicked politeness! Of how many falsehoods dost thou make the people, who are called polite, guilty!

But there is one man in the world, who is remarkable for his truth, yet is unquestionably polite. He censures not others for complying with fashions established by custom; but he gives not in to them. He never perverts the meaning of words. He never, for instance, suffers his servants to deny him, when he is at home. If he is busy, he just finds time to say he is, to unexpected visiters; and if they will stay, he turns them over to his sisters, to Dr. Bartlett, to Emily, till he can attend them. But then he has always done so. Every one knows that he lives to his own heart, and they expect it of him; and when they can have his company, they have double joy in the ease and cheerfulness that attend his leisure: they then have him wholly. And he can be the more polite, as the company then is all his business.

Sir Charles might the better do so, as he came over so few months ago, after so long an absence; and his reputation for politeness was so well established, that people rather looked for rules from him, than a conformity to theirs.

His denials of complimenting Lady Olivia (though she was but just arrived in his native country, where she never was before) with the suspending of his departure for one week, or but for one day--Who but he could have given them? But he was convinced, that it was right to hasten away, for the sake of Clementina and his Jeronymo; and that it would have been wrong to shew Olivia, even for her own sake, that in such a compet.i.tion she had consequence with him; and all her entreaties, all her menaces, the detested poniard in her hand, could not shake his steady soul, and make him delay his well-settled purpose.

LETTER x.x.xI