CHAPTER XXVI.
Squire and fool are the same thing here--FARQUHAR.
In such a night
Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew,
And, with an unthrift love, did run from Venice.---SHAKSPEARE.
The persecutions which Isabel had undergone had indeed preyed upon her
reason as well as her health; and, in her brief intervals of respite
from the rage of the uncle, the insults of the aunt, and, worse than
all, the addresses of the intended bridegroom, her mind, shocked and
unhinged, reverted with such intensity to the sufferings she endured
as to give her musings the character of insanity. It was in one of
these moments that she had written to Mordaunt; and had the contest
continued much longer the reason of the unfortunate and persecuted
girl would have totally deserted her.
She was a person of acute, and even poignant, sensibilities, and these
the imperfect nature of her education had but little served to guide
or to correct; but as her habits were pure and good, the impulses
which spring from habit were also sinless and exalted, and, if they
erred, "they leaned on virtue's side," and partook rather of a
romantic and excessive generosity than of the weakness of womanhood or
the selfishness of passion. All the misery and debasement of her
equivocal and dependent situation had not been able to drive her into
compliance with Mordaunt's passionate and urgent prayers; and her
heart was proof even to the eloquence of love, when that eloquence
pointed towards the worldly injury and depreciation of her lover: but
this new persecution was utterly unforeseen in its nature and
intolerable from its cause. To marry another; to be torn forever from
one in whom her whole heart was wrapped; to be forced not only to
forego his love, but to feel that the very thought of him was a
crime,--all this, backed by the vehement and galling insults of her
relations, and the sullen and unmoved meanness of her intended
bridegroom, who answered her candour and confession with a stubborn
indifference and renewed overtures, made a load of evil which could
neither be borne with resignation nor contemplated with patience.
She was sitting, after she had sent her letter, with her two
relations, for they seldom trusted her out of their sight, when Mr.
Glumford was announced. Now, Mr. George Glumford was a country
gentleman of what might be termed a third-rate family in the county:
he possessed about twelve hundred a year, to say nothing of the odd
pounds, shillings, and pence, which, however, did not meet with such
contempt in his memory or estimation; was of a race which could date
as far back as Charles the Second; had been educated at a country
school with sixty others, chiefly inferior to himself in rank; and had
received the last finish at a very small hall at Oxford. In addition
to these advantages, he had been indebted to nature for a person five
feet eight inches high, and stout in proportion; for hair very short,
very straight, and of a red hue, which even through powder cast out a
yellow glow; for an obstinate dogged sort of nose, beginning in snub,
and ending in bottle; for cold, small, gray eyes, a very small mouth,
pinched up and avaricious; and very large, very freckled, yet rather
white hands, the nails of which were punctiliously cut into a point
every other day, with a pair of scissors which Mr. Glumford often
boasted had been in his possession since his eighth year; namely, for
about thirty-two legitimate revolutions of the sun.
He was one of those persons who are equally close and adventurous; who
love the eclat of a little speculation, but take exceeding good care
that it should be, in their own graceful phrase, "on the safe side of
the hedge." In pursuance of this characteristic of mind, he had
resolved to fall in love with Miss Isabel St. Leger; for she being
very dependent, he could boast to her of his disinterestedness, and
hope that she would be economical through a principle of gratitude;
and being the nearest relation to the opulent General St. Leger and
his unmarried sister there seemed to be every rational probability of
her inheriting the bulk of their fortunes. Upon these hints of
prudence spake Mr. George Glumford.
Now, when Isabel, partly in her ingenuous frankness, partly from the
passionate promptings of her despair, revealed to him her attachment
to another, and her resolution never, with her own consent, to become
his, it seemed to the slow but not uncalculating mind of Mr. Glumford
not by any means desirable that he should forego his present
intentions, but by all means desirable that he should make this
reluctance of Isabel an excuse for sounding the intentions and
increasing the posthumous liberality of the East Indian and his
sister.
"The girl is of my nearest blood," said the Major-General, "and if I
don't leave my fortune to her, who the devil should I leave it to,
sir?" and so saying, the speaker, who was in a fell paroxysm of the
gout, looked so fiercely at the hinting wooer that Mr. George
Glumford, who was no Achilles, was somewhat frightened, and thought it
expedient to hint no more.
"My brother," said Miss Diana, "is so odd; but he is the most generous
of men: besides, the girl has claims upon him." Upon these speeches
Mr. Glumford thought himself secure; and inly resolving to punish the
fool for her sulkiness and bad taste as soon as he lawfully could, he
continued his daily visits and told his sporting acquaintance that his
time was coming.
Revenons a nos moutons. Forgive this preliminary detail, and let us
return to Mr. Glumford himself, whom we left at the door, pulling and
fumbling at the glove which covered his right hand, in order to
present the naked palm to Miss Diana St. Leger. After this act was
performed, he approached Isabel, and drawing his chair near to her,
proceeded to converse with her as the Ogre did with Puss in Boots;
namely, "as civilly as an Ogre could do."
This penance had not proceeded far, before the door was again opened,
and Mr. Morris Brown presented himself to the conclave.
"Your servant, General; your servant, Madam. I took the liberty of
coming back again, Madam, because I forgot to show you some very fine
silks, the most extraordinary bargain in the world,--quite presents;
and I have a Sevres bowl here, a superb article, from the cabinet of
the late Lady Waddilove."
Now Mr. Brown was a very old acquaintance of Miss Diana St. Leger, for
there is a certain class of old maids with whom our fair readers are
no doubt acquainted, who join to a great love of expense a great love
of bargains, and who never purchase at the regular place if they can
find any irregular vendor. They are great friends of Jews and
itinerants, hand-in-glove with smugglers, Ladies Bountiful to pedlers,
are diligent readers of puffs and advertisements, and eternal haunters
of sales and auctions. Of this class was Miss Diana a most prominent
individual: judge, then, how acceptable to her was the acquaintance of
Mr. Brown. That indefatigable merchant of miscellanies had, indeed,
at a time when brokers were perhaps rather more rare and respectable
than now, a numerous country acquaintance, and thrice a year he
performed a sort of circuit to all his customers and connections;
hence his visit to St. Leger House, and hence Isabel's opportunity of
conveying her epistle.
"Pray," said Mr. Glumford, who had heard much of Mr. Brown's
"presents" from Miss Diana,--"pray don't you furnish rooms, and things
of that sort?"
"Certainly, sir, certainly, in the best manner possible."
"Oh, very well; I shall want some rooms furnished soon,--a bedroom and
a dressing-room, and things of that sort, you know. And so--perhaps
you may have something in your box that will suit me, gloves or
handkerchiefs or shirts or things of that sort."
"Yes, sir, everything, I sell everything," said Mr. Brown, opening his
box. "I beg pardon, Miss Isabel, I have dropped my handkerchief by
your chair; allow me to stoop," and Mr. Brown, stooping under the
table, managed to effect his purpose; unseen by the rest, a note was
slipped into Isabel's hand, and under pretence of stooping too, she
managed to secure the treasure. Love need well be honest if, even
when it is most true, it leads us into so much that is false!
Mr. Brown's box was now unfolded before the eyes of the crafty Mr.
Glumford, who, having selected three pair of gloves, offered the exact
half of the sum demanded.
Mr. Brown lifted up his hands and eyes.
"You see," said the imperturbable Glumford, "that if you let me have
them for that, and they last me well, and don't come unsewn, and stand
cleaning, you'll have my custom in furnishing the house, and rooms,
and--things of that sort."
Struck with the grandeur of this opening, Mr. Brown yielded, and the
gloves were bought.
"The fool!" thought the noble George, laughing in his sleeve, "as if I
should ever furnish the house from his box!" Strange that some men
should be proud of being mean! The moment Isabel escaped to dress for
dinner, she opened her lover's note. It was as follows.--
Be in the room, your retreat, at nine this evening. Let the window be
left unclosed. Precisely at that hour I will be with you. I shall
have everything in readiness for your flight. Be sure, dearest
Isabel, that nothing prevents your meeting me there, even if all your
house follow or attend you. I will bear you from all. Oh, Isabel! in
spite of the mystery and wretchedness of your letter, I feel too
happy, too blest at the thought that our fates will be at length
united, and that the union is at hand. Remember nine.
A. M.
Love is a feeling which has so little to do with the world, a passion
so little regulated by the known laws of our more steady and settled
emotions, that the thoughts which it produces are always more or less
connected with exaggeration and romance. To the secret spirit of
enterprise which, however chilled by his pursuits and habits, still
burned within Mordaunt's breast, there was a wild pleasure in the
thought of bearing off his mistress and his bride from the very home
and hold of her false friends and real foes; while in the
contradictions of the same passion, Isabel, so far from exulting at
her approaching escape, trembled at her danger and blushed for her
temerity; and the fear and the modesty of woman almost triumphed over
her brief energy and fluctuating resolve.
