No More Learning

My dear Sister,--I congratulate you and Mr. Vernon on being about to
receive into your family the most accomplished coquette in England. As a
very distinguished flirt I have always been taught to consider her, but
it has lately fallen in my way to hear some particulars of her conduct
at Langford: which prove that she does not confine herself to that sort
of honest flirtation which satisfies most people, but aspires to the
more delicious gratification of making a whole family miserable. By her
behaviour to Mr. Mainwaring she gave jealousy and wretchedness to his
wife, and by her attentions to a young man previously attached to Mr.
Mainwaring's sister deprived an amiable girl of her lover.

I learnt all this from Mr. Smith, now in this neighbourhood (I have
dined with him, at Hurst and Wilford), who is just come from Langford
where he was a fortnight with her ladyship, and who is therefore well
qualified to make the communication.

What a woman she must be! I long to see her, and shall certainly accept
your kind invitation, that I may form some idea of those bewitching
powers which can do so much--engaging at the same time, and in the same
house, the affections of two men, who were neither of them at liberty to
bestow them--and all this without the charm of youth! I am glad to find
Miss Vernon does not accompany her mother to Churchhill, as she has not
even manners to recommend her; and, according to Mr. Smith's account, is
equally dull and proud. Where pride and stupidity unite there can be
no dissimulation worthy notice, and Miss Vernon shall be consigned to
unrelenting contempt; but by all that I can gather Lady Susan possesses
a degree of captivating deceit which it must be pleasing to witness and
detect. I shall be with you very soon, and am ever,

Your affectionate brother,

R. DE COURCY.




V


LADY SUSAN VERNON TO MRS. JOHNSON


Churchhill.


I received your note, my dear Alicia, just before I left town, and
rejoice to be assured that Mr. Johnson suspected nothing of your
engagement the evening before. It is undoubtedly better to deceive him
entirely, and since he will be stubborn he must be tricked. I arrived
here in safety, and have no reason to complain of my reception from Mr.
Vernon; but I confess myself not equally satisfied with the behaviour of
his lady. She is perfectly well-bred, indeed, and has the air of a woman
of fashion, but her manners are not such as can persuade me of her being
prepossessed in my favour. I wanted her to be delighted at seeing me.
I was as amiable as possible on the occasion, but all in vain. She does
not like me. To be sure when we consider that I DID take some pains to
prevent my brother-in-law's marrying her, this want of cordiality is not
very surprizing, and yet it shows an illiberal and vindictive spirit
to resent a project which influenced me six years ago, and which never
succeeded at last.

I am sometimes disposed to repent that I did not let Charles buy
Vernon Castle, when we were obliged to sell it; but it was a trying
circumstance, especially as the sale took place exactly at the time
of his marriage; and everybody ought to respect the delicacy of those
feelings which could not endure that my husband's dignity should be
lessened by his younger brother's having possession of the family
estate. Could matters have been so arranged as to prevent the necessity
of our leaving the castle, could we have lived with Charles and kept
him single, I should have been very far from persuading my husband to
dispose of it elsewhere; but Charles was on the point of marrying
Miss De Courcy, and the event has justified me. Here are children in
abundance, and what benefit could have accrued to me from his purchasing
Vernon? My having prevented it may perhaps have given his wife an
unfavourable impression, but where there is a disposition to dislike,
a motive will never be wanting; and as to money matters it has not
withheld him from being very useful to me. I really have a regard
for him, he is so easily imposed upon! The house is a good one, the
furniture fashionable, and everything announces plenty and elegance.
Charles is very rich I am sure; when a man has once got his name in a
banking-house he rolls in money; but they do not know what to do with
it, keep very little company, and never go to London but on business. We
shall be as stupid as possible. I mean to win my sister-in-law's heart
through the children; I know all their names already, and am going to
attach myself with the greatest sensibility to one in particular, a
young Frederic, whom I take on my lap and sigh over for his dear uncle's
sake.

Poor Mainwaring! I need not tell you how much I miss him, how
perpetually he is in my thoughts. I found a dismal letter from him on
my arrival here, full of complaints of his wife and sister, and
lamentations on the cruelty of his fate. I passed off the letter as his
wife's, to the Vernons, and when I write to him it must be under cover
to you.

Ever yours, S. VERNON.





VI


MRS. VERNON TO MR. DE COURCY


Churchhill.


Well, my dear Reginald, I have seen this dangerous creature, and must
give you some description of her, though I hope you will soon be able to
form your own judgment. She is really excessively pretty; however you may
choose to question the allurements of a lady no longer young, I must,
for my own part, declare that I have seldom seen so lovely a woman
as Lady Susan. She is delicately fair, with fine grey eyes and dark
eyelashes; and from her appearance one would not suppose her more than
five and twenty, though she must in fact be ten years older, I was
certainly not disposed to admire her, though always hearing she was
beautiful; but I cannot help feeling that she possesses an uncommon
union of symmetry, brilliancy, and grace. Her address to me was so
gentle, frank, and even affectionate, that, if I had not known how much
she has always disliked me for marrying Mr. Vernon, and that we had
never met before, I should have imagined her an attached friend. One
is apt, I believe, to connect assurance of manner with coquetry, and to
expect that an impudent address will naturally attend an impudent mind;
at least I was myself prepared for an improper degree of confidence in
Lady Susan; but her countenance is absolutely sweet, and her voice and
manner winningly mild. I am sorry it is so, for what is this but deceit?
Unfortunately, one knows her too well. She is clever and agreeable, has
all that knowledge of the world which makes conversation easy, and talks
very well, with a happy command of language, which is too often used, I
believe, to make black appear white. She has already almost persuaded me
of her being warmly attached to her daughter, though I have been so long
convinced to the contrary. She speaks of her with so much tenderness and
anxiety, lamenting so bitterly the neglect of her education, which she
represents however as wholly unavoidable, that I am forced to recollect
how many successive springs her ladyship spent in town, while her
daughter was left in Staffordshire to the care of servants, or a
governess very little better, to prevent my believing what she says.

If her manners have so great an influence on my resentful heart, you
may judge how much more strongly they operate on Mr. Vernon's generous
temper. I wish I could be as well satisfied as he is, that it was really
her choice to leave Langford for Churchhill; and if she had not stayed
there for months before she discovered that her friend's manner of
living did not suit her situation or feelings, I might have believed
that concern for the loss of such a husband as Mr. Vernon, to whom her
own behaviour was far from unexceptionable, might for a time make her
wish for retirement. But I cannot forget the length of her visit to the
Mainwarings, and when I reflect on the different mode of life which she
led with them from that to which she must now submit, I can only suppose
that the wish of establishing her reputation by following though late
the path of propriety, occasioned her removal from a family where she
must in reality have been particularly happy. Your friend Mr. Smith's
story, however, cannot be quite correct, as she corresponds regularly
with Mrs. Mainwaring. At any rate it must be exaggerated. It is scarcely
possible that two men should be so grossly deceived by her at once.

Yours, &c. ,

CATHERINE VERNON





VII


LADY SUSAN VERNON TO MRS. JOHNSON


Churchhill.


My dear Alicia,--You are very good in taking notice of Frederica, and
I am grateful for it as a mark of your friendship; but as I cannot have
any doubt of the warmth of your affection, I am far from exacting so
heavy a sacrifice. She is a stupid girl, and has nothing to recommend
her. I would not, therefore, on my account, have you encumber one moment
of your precious time by sending for her to Edward Street, especially
as every visit is so much deducted from the grand affair of education,
which I really wish to have attended to while she remains at Miss
Summers's. I want her to play and sing with some portion of taste and
a good deal of assurance, as she has my hand and arm and a tolerable
voice. I was so much indulged in my infant years that I was never
obliged to attend to anything, and consequently am without the
accomplishments which are now necessary to finish a pretty woman. Not
that I am an advocate for the prevailing fashion of acquiring a perfect
knowledge of all languages, arts, and sciences. It is throwing time
away to be mistress of French, Italian, and German: music, singing,
and drawing, &c. , will gain a woman some applause, but will not add
one lover to her list--grace and manner, after all, are of the greatest
importance. I do not mean, therefore, that Frederica's acquirements
should be more than superficial, and I flatter myself that she will not
remain long enough at school to understand anything thoroughly. I hope
to see her the wife of Sir James within a twelvemonth. You know on what
I ground my hope, and it is certainly a good foundation, for school must
be very humiliating to a girl of Frederica's age. And, by-the-by, you
had better not invite her any more on that account, as I wish her to
find her situation as unpleasant as possible. I am sure of Sir James at
any time, and could make him renew his application by a line. I shall
trouble you meanwhile to prevent his forming any other attachment when
he comes to town. Ask him to your house occasionally, and talk to him of
Frederica, that he may not forget her. Upon the whole, I commend my own
conduct in this affair extremely, and regard it as a very happy instance
of circumspection and tenderness. Some mothers would have insisted on
their daughter's accepting so good an offer on the first overture; but I
could not reconcile it to myself to force Frederica into a marriage from
which her heart revolted, and instead of adopting so harsh a measure
merely propose to make it her own choice, by rendering her thoroughly
uncomfortable till she does accept him--but enough of this tiresome
girl. You may well wonder how I contrive to pass my time here, and for
the first week it was insufferably dull. Now, however, we begin to mend,
our party is enlarged by Mrs. Vernon's brother, a handsome young man,
who promises me some amusement. There is something about him which
rather interests me, a sort of sauciness and familiarity which I shall
teach him to correct. He is lively, and seems clever, and when I have
inspired him with greater respect for me than his sister's kind offices
have implanted, he may be an agreeable flirt. There is exquisite
pleasure in subduing an insolent spirit, in making a person
predetermined to dislike acknowledge one's superiority. I have
disconcerted him already by my calm reserve, and it shall be my
endeavour to humble the pride of these self important De Courcys still
lower, to convince Mrs. Vernon that her sisterly cautions have been
bestowed in vain, and to persuade Reginald that she has scandalously
belied me. This project will serve at least to amuse me, and prevent
my feeling so acutely this dreadful separation from you and all whom I
love.

Yours ever,

S. VERNON.





VIII


MRS. VERNON TO LADY DE COURCY


Churchhill.


My dear Mother,--You must not expect Reginald back again for some time.
He desires me to tell you that the present open weather induces him to
accept Mr. Vernon's invitation to prolong his stay in Sussex, that
they may have some hunting together. He means to send for his horses
immediately, and it is impossible to say when you may see him in Kent. I
will not disguise my sentiments on this change from you, my dear mother,
though I think you had better not communicate them to my father, whose
excessive anxiety about Reginald would subject him to an alarm which
might seriously affect his health and spirits. Lady Susan has certainly
contrived, in the space of a fortnight, to make my brother like her.
In short, I am persuaded that his continuing here beyond the time
originally fixed for his return is occasioned as much by a degree of
fascination towards her, as by the wish of hunting with Mr. Vernon, and
of course I cannot receive that pleasure from the length of his visit
which my brother's company would otherwise give me. I am, indeed,
provoked at the artifice of this unprincipled woman; what stronger
proof of her dangerous abilities can be given than this perversion of
Reginald's judgment, which when he entered the house was so decidedly
against her! In his last letter he actually gave me some particulars of
her behaviour at Langford, such as he received from a gentleman who knew
her perfectly well, which, if true, must raise abhorrence against her,
and which Reginald himself was entirely disposed to credit. His opinion
of her, I am sure, was as low as of any woman in England; and when he
first came it was evident that he considered her as one entitled neither
to delicacy nor respect, and that he felt she would be delighted with
the attentions of any man inclined to flirt with her. Her behaviour, I
confess, has been calculated to do away with such an idea; I have
not detected the smallest impropriety in it--nothing of vanity, of
pretension, of levity; and she is altogether so attractive that I should
not wonder at his being delighted with her, had he known nothing of her
previous to this personal acquaintance; but, against reason, against
conviction, to be so well pleased with her, as I am sure he is, does
really astonish me. His admiration was at first very strong, but no more
than was natural, and I did not wonder at his being much struck by the
gentleness and delicacy of her manners; but when he has mentioned her of
late it has been in terms of more extraordinary praise; and yesterday he
actually said that he could not be surprised at any effect produced
on the heart of man by such loveliness and such abilities; and when I
lamented, in reply, the badness of her disposition, he observed that
whatever might have been her errors they were to be imputed to her
neglected education and early marriage, and that she was altogether a
wonderful woman. This tendency to excuse her conduct or to forget it, in
the warmth of admiration, vexes me; and if I did not know that Reginald
is too much at home at Churchhill to need an invitation for lengthening
his visit, I should regret Mr. Vernon's giving him any. Lady Susan's
intentions are of course those of absolute coquetry, or a desire
of universal admiration; I cannot for a moment imagine that she has
anything more serious in view; but it mortifies me to see a young man of
Reginald's sense duped by her at all.

I am, &c. ,

CATHERINE VERNON.





IX


MRS. JOHNSON TO LADY S. VERNON


Edward Street.


My dearest Friend,--I congratulate you on Mr. De Courcy's arrival, and
I advise you by all means to marry him; his father's estate is, we know,
considerable, and I believe certainly entailed. Sir Reginald is very
infirm, and not likely to stand in your way long. I hear the young man
well spoken of; and though no one can really deserve you, my dearest
Susan, Mr. De Courcy may be worth having. Mainwaring will storm of
course, but you easily pacify him; besides, the most scrupulous point of
honour could not require you to wait for HIS emancipation. I have seen
Sir James; he came to town for a few days last week, and called several
times in Edward Street. I talked to him about you and your daughter, and
he is so far from having forgotten you, that I am sure he would marry
either of you with pleasure. I gave him hopes of Frederica's relenting,
and told him a great deal of her improvements. I scolded him for making
love to Maria Mainwaring; he protested that he had been only in joke,
and we both laughed heartily at her disappointment; and, in short, were
very agreeable. He is as silly as ever.

Yours faithfully,

ALICIA.





X


LADY SUSAN VERNON TO MRS. JOHNSON


Churchhill.


I am much obliged to you, my dear Friend, for your advice respecting
Mr. De Courcy, which I know was given with the full conviction of its
expediency, though I am not quite determined on following it. I cannot
easily resolve on anything so serious as marriage; especially as I
am not at present in want of money, and might perhaps, till the old
gentleman's death, be very little benefited by the match. It is true
that I am vain enough to believe it within my reach. I have made him
sensible of my power, and can now enjoy the pleasure of triumphing
over a mind prepared to dislike me, and prejudiced against all my
past actions. His sister, too, is, I hope, convinced how little the
ungenerous representations of anyone to the disadvantage of another will
avail when opposed by the immediate influence of intellect and manner. I
see plainly that she is uneasy at my progress in the good opinion of
her brother, and conclude that nothing will be wanting on her part to
counteract me; but having once made him doubt the justice of her opinion
of me, I think I may defy her. It has been delightful to me to watch
his advances towards intimacy, especially to observe his altered manner
in consequence of my repressing by the cool dignity of my deportment
his insolent approach to direct familiarity. My conduct has been equally
guarded from the first, and I never behaved less like a coquette in the
whole course of my life, though perhaps my desire of dominion was never
more decided. I have subdued him entirely by sentiment and serious
conversation, and made him, I may venture to say, at least half in love
with me, without the semblance of the most commonplace flirtation. Mrs.
Vernon's consciousness of deserving every sort of revenge that it can
be in my power to inflict for her ill-offices could alone enable her
to perceive that I am actuated by any design in behaviour so gentle
and unpretending. Let her think and act as she chooses, however. I have
never yet found that the advice of a sister could prevent a young
man's being in love if he chose. We are advancing now to some kind of
confidence, and in short are likely to be engaged in a sort of platonic
friendship. On my side you may be sure of its never being more, for if
I were not attached to another person as much as I can be to anyone, I
should make a point of not bestowing my affection on a man who had dared
to think so meanly of me. Reginald has a good figure and is not unworthy
the praise you have heard given him, but is still greatly inferior
to our friend at Langford. He is less polished, less insinuating than
Mainwaring, and is comparatively deficient in the power of saying those
delightful things which put one in good humour with oneself and all the
world. He is quite agreeable enough, however, to afford me amusement,
and to make many of those hours pass very pleasantly which would
otherwise be spent in endeavouring to overcome my sister-in-law's
reserve, and listening to the insipid talk of her husband. Your account
of Sir James is most satisfactory, and I mean to give Miss Frederica a
hint of my intentions very soon.

Yours, &c. ,

S. VERNON.





XI


MRS. VERNON TO LADY DE COURCY


Churchhill


I really grow quite uneasy, my dearest mother, about Reginald, from
witnessing the very rapid increase of Lady Susan's influence. They are
now on terms of the most particular friendship, frequently engaged in
long conversations together; and she has contrived by the most artful
coquetry to subdue his judgment to her own purposes. It is impossible
to see the intimacy between them so very soon established without some
alarm, though I can hardly suppose that Lady Susan's plans extend to
marriage. I wish you could get Reginald home again on any plausible
pretence; he is not at all disposed to leave us, and I have given him as
many hints of my father's precarious state of health as common decency
will allow me to do in my own house. Her power over him must now be
boundless, as she has entirely effaced all his former ill-opinion,
and persuaded him not merely to forget but to justify her conduct. Mr.
Smith's account of her proceedings at Langford, where he accused her of
having made Mr. Mainwaring and a young man engaged to Miss Mainwaring
distractedly in love with her, which Reginald firmly believed when he
came here, is now, he is persuaded, only a scandalous invention. He
has told me so with a warmth of manner which spoke his regret at having
believed the contrary himself. How sincerely do I grieve that she
ever entered this house! I always looked forward to her coming with
uneasiness; but very far was it from originating in anxiety for
Reginald. I expected a most disagreeable companion for myself, but could
not imagine that my brother would be in the smallest danger of being
captivated by a woman with whose principles he was so well acquainted,
and whose character he so heartily despised. If you can get him away it
will be a good thing.

Yours, &c. ,

CATHERINE VERNON.





XII


SIR REGINALD DE COURCY TO HIS SON


Parklands.


I know that young men in general do not admit of any enquiry even from
their nearest relations into affairs of the heart, but I hope, my dear
Reginald, that you will be superior to such as allow nothing for a
father's anxiety, and think themselves privileged to refuse him their
confidence and slight his advice. You must be sensible that as an only
son, and the representative of an ancient family, your conduct in life
is most interesting to your connections; and in the very important
concern of marriage especially, there is everything at stake--your own
happiness, that of your parents, and the credit of your name. I do not
suppose that you would deliberately form an absolute engagement of that
nature without acquainting your mother and myself, or at least, without
being convinced that we should approve of your choice; but I cannot help
fearing that you may be drawn in, by the lady who has lately attached
you, to a marriage which the whole of your family, far and near, must
highly reprobate. Lady Susan's age is itself a material objection, but
her want of character is one so much more serious, that the difference
of even twelve years becomes in comparison of small amount. Were you not
blinded by a sort of fascination, it would be ridiculous in me to repeat
the instances of great misconduct on her side so very generally known.

Her neglect of her husband, her encouragement of other men, her
extravagance and dissipation, were so gross and notorious that no one
could be ignorant of them at the time, nor can now have forgotten them.
To our family she has always been represented in softened colours by
the benevolence of Mr. Charles Vernon, and yet, in spite of his generous
endeavours to excuse her, we know that she did, from the most selfish
motives, take all possible pains to prevent his marriage with Catherine.

My years and increasing infirmities make me very desirous of seeing you
settled in the world. To the fortune of a wife, the goodness of my own
will make me indifferent, but her family and character must be equally
unexceptionable. When your choice is fixed so that no objection can be
made to it, then I can promise you a ready and cheerful consent; but it
is my duty to oppose a match which deep art only could render possible,
and must in the end make wretched. It is possible her behaviour may
arise only from vanity, or the wish of gaining the admiration of a man
whom she must imagine to be particularly prejudiced against her; but it
is more likely that she should aim at something further. She is poor,
and may naturally seek an alliance which must be advantageous to
herself; you know your own rights, and that it is out of my power to
prevent your inheriting the family estate. My ability of distressing
you during my life would be a species of revenge to which I could hardly
stoop under any circumstances.

I honestly tell you my sentiments and intentions: I do not wish to work
on your fears, but on your sense and affection. It would destroy every
comfort of my life to know that you were married to Lady Susan Vernon;
it would be the death of that honest pride with which I have hitherto
considered my son; I should blush to see him, to hear of him, to think
of him. I may perhaps do no good but that of relieving my own mind by
this letter, but I felt it my duty to tell you that your partiality for
Lady Susan is no secret to your friends, and to warn you against her.
I should be glad to hear your reasons for disbelieving Mr. Smith's
intelligence; you had no doubt of its authenticity a month ago. If
you can give me your assurance of having no design beyond enjoying
the conversation of a clever woman for a short period, and of yielding
admiration only to her beauty and abilities, without being blinded by
them to her faults, you will restore me to happiness; but, if you cannot
do this, explain to me, at least, what has occasioned so great an
alteration in your opinion of her.

I am, &c. , &c,

REGINALD DE COURCY





XIII


LADY DE COURCY TO MRS. VERNON


Parklands.


My dear Catherine,--Unluckily I was confined to my room when your last
letter came, by a cold which affected my eyes so much as to prevent my
reading it myself, so I could not refuse your father when he offered
to read it to me, by which means he became acquainted, to my great
vexation, with all your fears about your brother. I had intended to
write to Reginald myself as soon as my eyes would let me, to point out,
as well as I could, the danger of an intimate acquaintance, with so
artful a woman as Lady Susan, to a young man of his age, and high
expectations. I meant, moreover, to have reminded him of our being quite
alone now, and very much in need of him to keep up our spirits these
long winter evenings.
Whether it would have done any good can never be
settled now, but I am excessively vexed that Sir Reginald should know
anything of a matter which we foresaw would make him so uneasy. He
caught all your fears the moment he had read your letter, and I am sure
he has not had the business out of his head since. He wrote by the same
post to Reginald a long letter full of it all, and particularly asking
an explanation of what he may have heard from Lady Susan to contradict
the late shocking reports. His answer came this morning, which I shall
enclose to you, as I think you will like to see it. I wish it was more
satisfactory; but it seems written with such a determination to think
well of Lady Susan, that his assurances as to marriage, &c. , do not set
my heart at ease. I say all I can, however, to satisfy your father, and
he is certainly less uneasy since Reginald's letter. How provoking it
is, my dear Catherine, that this unwelcome guest of yours should not
only prevent our meeting this Christmas, but be the occasion of so much
vexation and trouble! Kiss the dear children for me.

Your affectionate mother,

C. DE COURCY.





XIV


MR. DE COURCY TO SIR REGINALD


Churchhill.


My dear Sir,--I have this moment received your letter, which has given
me more astonishment than I ever felt before. I am to thank my sister,
I suppose, for having represented me in such a light as to injure me
in your opinion, and give you all this alarm. I know not why she should
choose to make herself and her family uneasy by apprehending an
event which no one but herself, I can affirm, would ever have thought
possible. To impute such a design to Lady Susan would be taking from her
every claim to that excellent understanding which her bitterest enemies
have never denied her; and equally low must sink my pretensions to
common sense if I am suspected of matrimonial views in my behaviour
to her. Our difference of age must be an insuperable objection, and I
entreat you, my dear father, to quiet your mind, and no longer harbour
a suspicion which cannot be more injurious to your own peace than to our
understandings. I can have no other view in remaining with Lady Susan,
than to enjoy for a short time (as you have yourself expressed it) the
conversation of a woman of high intellectual powers. If Mrs. Vernon
would allow something to my affection for herself and her husband in the
length of my visit, she would do more justice to us all; but my sister
is unhappily prejudiced beyond the hope of conviction against Lady
Susan. From an attachment to her husband, which in itself does honour to
both, she cannot forgive the endeavours at preventing their union, which
have been attributed to selfishness in Lady Susan; but in this case, as
well as in many others, the world has most grossly injured that lady, by
supposing the worst where the motives of her conduct have been doubtful.
Lady Susan had heard something so materially to the disadvantage of my
sister as to persuade her that the happiness of Mr. Vernon, to whom she
was always much attached, would be wholly destroyed by the marriage. And
this circumstance, while it explains the true motives of Lady Susan's
conduct, and removes all the blame which has been so lavished on her,
may also convince us how little the general report of anyone ought to
be credited; since no character, however upright, can escape the
malevolence of slander. If my sister, in the security of retirement,
with as little opportunity as inclination to do evil, could not avoid
censure, we must not rashly condemn those who, living in the world and
surrounded with temptations, should be accused of errors which they are
known to have the power of committing.

I blame myself severely for having so easily believed the slanderous
tales invented by Charles Smith to the prejudice of Lady Susan, as I
am now convinced how greatly they have traduced her. As to Mrs.
Mainwaring's jealousy it was totally his own invention, and his account
of her attaching Miss Mainwaring's lover was scarcely better founded.
Sir James Martin had been drawn in by that young lady to pay her some
attention; and as he is a man of fortune, it was easy to see HER views
extended to marriage. It is well known that Miss M. is absolutely on the
catch for a husband, and no one therefore can pity her for losing, by
the superior attractions of another woman, the chance of being able to
make a worthy man completely wretched. Lady Susan was far from intending
such a conquest, and on finding how warmly Miss Mainwaring resented her
lover's defection, determined, in spite of Mr. and Mrs. Mainwaring's
most urgent entreaties, to leave the family. I have reason to imagine
she did receive serious proposals from Sir James, but her removing to
Langford immediately on the discovery of his attachment, must acquit her
on that article with any mind of common candour. You will, I am sure, my
dear Sir, feel the truth of this, and will hereby learn to do justice to
the character of a very injured woman. I know that Lady Susan in coming
to Churchhill was governed only by the most honourable and amiable
intentions; her prudence and economy are exemplary, her regard for Mr.
Vernon equal even to HIS deserts; and her wish of obtaining my sister's
good opinion merits a better return than it has received. As a mother
she is unexceptionable; her solid affection for her child is shown by
placing her in hands where her education will be properly attended to;
but because she has not the blind and weak partiality of most mothers,
she is accused of wanting maternal tenderness. Every person of sense,
however, will know how to value and commend her well-directed affection,
and will join me in wishing that Frederica Vernon may prove more worthy
than she has yet done of her mother's tender care. I have now, my dear
father, written my real sentiments of Lady Susan; you will know from
this letter how highly I admire her abilities, and esteem her character;
but if you are not equally convinced by my full and solemn assurance
that your fears have been most idly created, you will deeply mortify and
distress me.

I am, &c. , &c. ,

R. DE COURCY.





XV


MRS. VERNON TO LADY DE COURCY


Churchhill


My dear Mother,--I return you Reginald's letter, and rejoice with all
my heart that my father is made easy by it: tell him so, with my
congratulations; but, between ourselves, I must own it has only
convinced ME of my brother's having no PRESENT intention of marrying
Lady Susan, not that he is in no danger of doing so three months hence.
He gives a very plausible account of her behaviour at Langford; I wish
it may be true, but his intelligence must come from herself, and I
am less disposed to believe it than to lament the degree of intimacy
subsisting between them, implied by the discussion of such a subject. I
am sorry to have incurred his displeasure, but can expect nothing better
while he is so very eager in Lady Susan's justification. He is very
severe against me indeed, and yet I hope I have not been hasty in
my judgment of her. Poor woman! though I have reasons enough for
my dislike, I cannot help pitying her at present, as she is in real
distress, and with too much cause. She had this morning a letter from
the lady with whom she has placed her daughter, to request that Miss
Vernon might be immediately removed, as she had been detected in an
attempt to run away. Why, or whither she intended to go, does not
appear; but, as her situation seems to have been unexceptionable, it is
a sad thing, and of course highly distressing to Lady Susan. Frederica
must be as much as sixteen, and ought to know better; but from what
her mother insinuates, I am afraid she is a perverse girl. She has
been sadly neglected, however, and her mother ought to remember it. Mr.
Vernon set off for London as soon as she had determined what should be
done. He is, if possible, to prevail on Miss Summers to let Frederica
continue with her; and if he cannot succeed, to bring her to Churchhill
for the present, till some other situation can be found for her.
Her ladyship is comforting herself meanwhile by strolling along the
shrubbery with Reginald, calling forth all his tender feelings, I
suppose, on this distressing occasion. She has been talking a great deal
about it to me. She talks vastly well; I am afraid of being ungenerous,
or I should say, TOO well to feel so very deeply; but I will not look
for her faults; she may be Reginald's wife! Heaven forbid it! but why
should I be quicker-sighted than anyone else? Mr. Vernon declares that
he never saw deeper distress than hers, on the receipt of the letter;
and is his judgment inferior to mine? She was very unwilling that
Frederica should be allowed to come to Churchhill, and justly enough, as
it seems a sort of reward to behaviour deserving very differently; but
it was impossible to take her anywhere else, and she is not to remain
here long. "It will be absolutely necessary," said she, "as you, my dear
sister, must be sensible, to treat my daughter with some severity while
she is here; a most painful necessity, but I will ENDEAVOUR to submit to
it. I am afraid I have often been too indulgent, but my poor Frederica's
temper could never bear opposition well: you must support and encourage
me; you must urge the necessity of reproof if you see me too lenient. "
All this sounds very reasonable. Reginald is so incensed against the
poor silly girl. Surely it is not to Lady Susan's credit that he should
be so bitter against her daughter; his idea of her must be drawn from
the mother's description. Well, whatever may be his fate, we have the
comfort of knowing that we have done our utmost to save him. We must
commit the event to a higher power.

Yours ever, &c. ,

CATHERINE VERNON.





XVI


LADY SUSAN TO MRS. JOHNSON


Churchhill.


Never, my dearest Alicia, was I so provoked in my life as by a letter
this morning from Miss Summers. That horrid girl of mine has been trying
to run away. I had not a notion of her being such a little devil before,
she seemed to have all the Vernon milkiness; but on receiving the letter
in which I declared my intention about Sir James, she actually attempted
to elope; at least, I cannot otherwise account for her doing it. She
meant, I suppose, to go to the Clarkes in Staffordshire, for she has no
other acquaintances. But she shall be punished, she shall have him. I
have sent Charles to town to make matters up if he can, for I do not
by any means want her here. If Miss Summers will not keep her, you must
find me out another school, unless we can get her married immediately.
Miss S. writes word that she could not get the young lady to assign
any cause for her extraordinary conduct, which confirms me in my own
previous explanation of it. Frederica is too shy, I think, and too much
in awe of me to tell tales, but if the mildness of her uncle should get
anything out of her, I am not afraid. I trust I shall be able to make my
story as good as hers. If I am vain of anything, it is of my eloquence.
Consideration and esteem as surely follow command of language as
admiration waits on beauty, and here I have opportunity enough for the
exercise of my talent, as the chief of my time is spent in conversation.

Reginald is never easy unless we are by ourselves, and when the weather
is tolerable, we pace the shrubbery for hours together. I like him on
the whole very well; he is clever and has a good deal to say, but he
is sometimes impertinent and troublesome. There is a sort of ridiculous
delicacy about him which requires the fullest explanation of whatever he
may have heard to my disadvantage, and is never satisfied till he thinks
he has ascertained the beginning and end of everything. This is one sort
of love, but I confess it does not particularly recommend itself to me.
I infinitely prefer the tender and liberal spirit of Mainwaring, which,
impressed with the deepest conviction of my merit, is satisfied that
whatever I do must be right; and look with a degree of contempt on
the inquisitive and doubtful fancies of that heart which seems always
debating on the reasonableness of its emotions. Mainwaring is indeed,
beyond all compare, superior to Reginald--superior in everything but the
power of being with me! Poor fellow! he is much distracted by jealousy,
which I am not sorry for, as I know no better support of love. He has
been teazing me to allow of his coming into this country, and lodging
somewhere near INCOG. ; but I forbade everything of the kind. Those women
are inexcusable who forget what is due to themselves, and the opinion of
the world.

Yours ever, S. VERNON.





XVII


MRS. VERNON TO LADY DE COURCY


Churchhill.


My dear Mother,--Mr. Vernon returned on Thursday night, bringing his
niece with him. Lady Susan had received a line from him by that day's
post, informing her that Miss Summers had absolutely refused to allow of
Miss Vernon's continuance in her academy; we were therefore prepared for
her arrival, and expected them impatiently the whole evening. They came
while we were at tea, and I never saw any creature look so frightened as
Frederica when she entered the room. Lady Susan, who had been shedding
tears before, and showing great agitation at the idea of the meeting,
received her with perfect self-command, and without betraying the
least tenderness of spirit. She hardly spoke to her, and on Frederica's
bursting into tears as soon as we were seated, took her out of the room,
and did not return for some time. When she did, her eyes looked very red
and she was as much agitated as before. We saw no more of her daughter.
Poor Reginald was beyond measure concerned to see his fair friend in
such distress, and watched her with so much tender solicitude, that I,
who occasionally caught her observing his countenance with exultation,
was quite out of patience. This pathetic representation lasted the whole
evening, and so ostentatious and artful a display has entirely convinced
me that she did in fact feel nothing. I am more angry with her than ever
since I have seen her daughter; the poor girl looks so unhappy that my
heart aches for her. Lady Susan is surely too severe, for Frederica
does not seem to have the sort of temper to make severity necessary.
She looks perfectly timid, dejected, and penitent. She is very
pretty, though not so handsome as her mother, nor at all like her. Her
complexion is delicate, but neither so fair nor so blooming as Lady
Susan's, and she has quite the Vernon cast of countenance, the oval face
and mild dark eyes, and there is peculiar sweetness in her look when she
speaks either to her uncle or me, for as we behave kindly to her we have
of course engaged her gratitude.

Her mother has insinuated that her temper is intractable, but I never
saw a face less indicative of any evil disposition than hers; and from
what I can see of the behaviour of each to the other, the invariable
severity of Lady Susan and the silent dejection of Frederica, I am
led to believe as heretofore that the former has no real love for her
daughter, and has never done her justice or treated her affectionately.
I have not been able to have any conversation with my niece; she is shy,
and I think I can see that some pains are taken to prevent her being
much with me. Nothing satisfactory transpires as to her reason for
running away. Her kind-hearted uncle, you may be sure, was too fearful
of distressing her to ask many questions as they travelled. I wish it
had been possible for me to fetch her instead of him. I think I should
have discovered the truth in the course of a thirty-mile journey. The
small pianoforte has been removed within these few days, at Lady Susan's
request, into her dressing-room, and Frederica spends great part of the
day there, practising as it is called; but I seldom hear any noise when
I pass that way; what she does with herself there I do not know. There
are plenty of books, but it is not every girl who has been running
wild the first fifteen years of her life, that can or will read. Poor
creature! the prospect from her window is not very instructive, for that
room overlooks the lawn, you know, with the shrubbery on one side,
where she may see her mother walking for an hour together in earnest
conversation with Reginald. A girl of Frederica's age must be childish
indeed, if such things do not strike her. Is it not inexcusable to give
such an example to a daughter? Yet Reginald still thinks Lady Susan the
best of mothers, and still condemns Frederica as a worthless girl! He
is convinced that her attempt to run away proceeded from no, justifiable
cause, and had no provocation. I am sure I cannot say that it HAD,
but while Miss Summers declares that Miss Vernon showed no signs of
obstinacy or perverseness during her whole stay in Wigmore Street, till
she was detected in this scheme, I cannot so readily credit what Lady
Susan has made him, and wants to make me believe, that it was merely
an impatience of restraint and a desire of escaping from the tuition of
masters which brought on the plan of an elopement. O Reginald, how is
your judgment enslaved! He scarcely dares even allow her to be handsome,
and when I speak of her beauty, replies only that her eyes have no
brilliancy! Sometimes he is sure she is deficient in understanding, and
at others that her temper only is in fault. In short, when a person is
always to deceive, it is impossible to be consistent. Lady Susan
finds it necessary that Frederica should be to blame, and probably has
sometimes judged it expedient to excuse her of ill-nature and sometimes
to lament her want of sense. Reginald is only repeating after her
ladyship.

I remain, &c. , &c. ,

CATHERINE VERNON.





XVIII


FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME


Churchhill.


My dear Mother,--I am very glad to find that my description of Frederica
Vernon has interested you, for I do believe her truly deserving of your
regard; and when I have communicated a notion which has recently struck
me, your kind impressions in her favour will, I am sure, be heightened.
I cannot help fancying that she is growing partial to my brother. I so
very often see her eyes fixed on his face with a remarkable expression
of pensive admiration. He is certainly very handsome; and yet more,
there is an openness in his manner that must be highly prepossessing,
and I am sure she feels it so. Thoughtful and pensive in general, her
countenance always brightens into a smile when Reginald says anything
amusing; and, let the subject be ever so serious that he may be
conversing on, I am much mistaken if a syllable of his uttering escapes
her. I want to make him sensible of all this, for we know the power
of gratitude on such a heart as his; and could Frederica's artless
affection detach him from her mother, we might bless the day which
brought her to Churchhill. I think, my dear mother, you would not
disapprove of her as a daughter. She is extremely young, to be sure,
has had a wretched education, and a dreadful example of levity in her
mother; but yet I can pronounce her disposition to be excellent, and her
natural abilities very good. Though totally without accomplishments, she
is by no means so ignorant as one might expect to find her, being fond
of books and spending the chief of her time in reading. Her mother
leaves her more to herself than she did, and I have her with me as much
as possible, and have taken great pains to overcome her timidity. We
are very good friends, and though she never opens her lips before her
mother, she talks enough when alone with me to make it clear that, if
properly treated by Lady Susan, she would always appear to much greater
advantage. There cannot be a more gentle, affectionate heart; or more
obliging manners, when acting without restraint; and her little cousins
are all very fond of her.

Your affectionate daughter,

C. VERNON





XIX


LADY SUSAN TO MRS. JOHNSON


Churchhill.


You will be eager, I know, to hear something further of Frederica, and
perhaps may think me negligent for not writing before. She arrived with
her uncle last Thursday fortnight, when, of course, I lost no time in
demanding the cause of her behaviour; and soon found myself to have been
perfectly right in attributing it to my own letter. The prospect of
it frightened her so thoroughly, that, with a mixture of true girlish
perverseness and folly, she resolved on getting out of the house and
proceeding directly by the stage to her friends, the Clarkes; and had
really got as far as the length of two streets in her journey when
she was fortunately missed, pursued, and overtaken. Such was the first
distinguished exploit of Miss Frederica Vernon; and, if we consider that
it was achieved at the tender age of sixteen, we shall have room for
the most flattering prognostics of her future renown. I am excessively
provoked, however, at the parade of propriety which prevented Miss
Summers from keeping the girl; and it seems so extraordinary a piece of
nicety, considering my daughter's family connections, that I can only
suppose the lady to be governed by the fear of never getting her money.
Be that as it may, however, Frederica is returned on my hands; and,
having nothing else to employ her, is busy in pursuing the plan of
romance begun at Langford. She is actually falling in love with Reginald
De Courcy! To disobey her mother by refusing an unexceptionable offer
is not enough; her affections must also be given without her mother's
approbation. I never saw a girl of her age bid fairer to be the sport
of mankind. Her feelings are tolerably acute, and she is so charmingly
artless in their display as to afford the most reasonable hope of her
being ridiculous, and despised by every man who sees her.

Artlessness will never do in love matters; and that girl is born a
simpleton who has it either by nature or affectation. I am not yet
certain that Reginald sees what she is about, nor is it of much
consequence. She is now an object of indifference to him, and she would
be one of contempt were he to understand her emotions. Her beauty is
much admired by the Vernons, but it has no effect on him. She is in high
favour with her aunt altogether, because she is so little like myself,
of course. She is exactly the companion for Mrs. Vernon, who dearly
loves to be firm, and to have all the sense and all the wit of the
conversation to herself: Frederica will never eclipse her. When she
first came I was at some pains to prevent her seeing much of her aunt;
but I have relaxed, as I believe I may depend on her observing the rules
I have laid down for their discourse. But do not imagine that with all
this lenity I have for a moment given up my plan of her marriage. No; I
am unalterably fixed on this point, though I have not yet quite decided
on the manner of bringing it about. I should not chuse to have the
business brought on here, and canvassed by the wise heads of Mr. and
Mrs. Vernon; and I cannot just now afford to go to town. Miss Frederica
must therefore wait a little.

Yours ever,

S. VERNON.





XX


MRS. VERNON TO LADY DE COURCY


Churchhill


We have a very unexpected guest with us at present, my dear Mother: he
arrived yesterday. I heard a carriage at the door, as I was sitting with
my children while they dined; and supposing I should be wanted, left the
nursery soon afterwards, and was half-way downstairs, when Frederica,
as pale as ashes, came running up, and rushed by me into her own room.
I instantly followed, and asked her what was the matter. "Oh! " said
she, "he is come--Sir James is come, and what shall I do? " This was no
explanation; I begged her to tell me what she meant. At that moment we
were interrupted by a knock at the door: it was Reginald, who came, by
Lady Susan's direction, to call Frederica down. "It is Mr. De Courcy! "
said she, colouring violently. "Mamma has sent for me; I must go. "
We all three went down together; and I saw my brother examining the
terrified face of Frederica with surprize.