CHAPTER XI.
CONVERSATION BETWEEN LADY ERPINGHAM AND CONSTANCE.--FURTHER PARTICULARS OF
GODOLPHIN'S FAMILY, ETC.
Lady Erpingham was a widow; her jointure, for she had been an heiress and
a duke's daughter, was large; and the noblest mansion of all the various
seats possessed by the wealthy and powerful house of Erpingham had been
allotted by her late lord for her widowed residence. Thither she went
punctually on the first of every August, and quitted it punctually on the
eighth of every January.
It was some years after the date of Godolphin's departure from England,
and the summer following the spring in which Constance had been "brought
out;" and, after a debut of such splendour that at this day (many years
subsequent to that period) the sensation she created is not only a matter
of remembrance but of conversation, Constance, despite the triumph of her
vanity, was not displeased to seek some refuge, even from admiration,
among the shades of Wendover Castle.
"When," said she one morning, as she was walking with Lady Erpingham upon
a terrace beneath the windows of the castle, which overlooked the country
for miles,--"when will you go with me, dear Lady Erpingham, to see those
ruins of which I have heard so much and so often, and which I have never
been able to persuade you to visit? Look! the day is so clear that we can
see their outline now--there, to the right of that church!--they cannot be
so very far from Wendover."
"Godolphin Priory is about twelve miles off," said Lady Erpingham; "but it
may seem nearer, for it is situated on the highest spot of the county.
Poor Arthur Godolphin! he is lately dead!" Lady Erpingham sighed.
"I never heard you speak of him before."
"There might be a reason for my silence, Constance. He was the person, of
all whom I ever saw, who appeared to me when I was at your age, the most
fascinating. Not, Constance, that I was in love with him, or that he gave
me any reason to become so through gratitude for any affection on his
part. It was a girl's fancy, idle and short-lived--nothing more!"
"And the young Godolphin--the boy who, at so early an age, has made
himself known for his eccentric life abroad?"
"Is his son; the present owner of those ruins, and, I fear, of little
more, unless it be the remains of a legacy received from a relation."
"Was the father extravagant, then?"
"Not he! But his father had exceeded a patrimony greatly involved, and
greatly reduced from its ancient importance. All the lands we see
yonder---those villages, those woods--once belonged to the Godolphins.
They were the most ancient and the most powerful family in this part of
England; but the estates dwindled away with each successive generation,
and when Arthur Godolphin, my Godolphin, succeeded to the property,
nothing was left for him but the choice of three evils--a profession,
obscurity, or a wealthy marriage. My father, who had long destined me for
Lord Erpingham, insinuated that it was in me that Mr. Godolphin wished to
find the resource I have last mentioned, and that in such resource was my
only attraction in his eyes. I have some reason to believe he proposed to
the Duke; but he was silent to me, from whom, girl as I was, he might have
been less certain of refusal."
"What did he at last?"
"Married a lady who was supposed to be an heiress; but he had scarcely
enjoyed her fortune a year before it became the subject of a lawsuit. He
lost the cause and the dowry; and, what was worse, the expenses of
litigation, and the sums he was obliged to refund, reduced him to what,
for a man of his rank, might be considered absolute poverty. He was
thoroughly chagrined and soured by this event; retired to those ruins, or
rather to the small cottage that adjoins them, and there lived to the day
of his death, shunning society, and certainly not exceeding his income."
"I understand you: he became parsimonious."
"To the excess which his neighbours called miserly."
"And his wife?"
"Poor woman! she was a mere fine lady, and died, I believe, of the same
vexation which nipped, not the life, but the heart of her husband."
"Had they only one son?"
"Only the present owner: Percy, I think--yes, Percy; it was his mother's
surname--Percy Godolphin."
"And how came this poor boy to be thrown so early on the world? Did he
quarrel with Mr. Godolphin?"
"I believe not: but when Percy was about sixteen, he left the obscure
school at which he was educated, and resided for some little time with a
relation, Augustus Saville. He stayed with him in London for about a
year, and went everywhere with him, though so mere a boy. His manners
were, I well remember, assured and formed. A relation left him some
moderate legacy, and afterwards he went abroad alone."
"But the ruins! The late Mr. Godolphin, notwithstanding his reserve, did
not object to indulging the curiosity of his neighbours."
"No: he was proud of the interest the ruins of his hereditary mansion so
generally excited,--proud of their celebrity in print-shops and in tours;
but he himself was never seen. The cottage in which he lived, though it
adjoins the ruins, was, of course, sacred from intrusion, and is so walled
in, that that great delight of English visitors at show-places--peeping in
at windows--was utterly forbidden. However that be, during Mr.
Godolphin's life, I never had courage to visit what, to me, would have
been a melancholy scene now, the pain would be somewhat less; and since
you wish it, suppose we drive over and visit the ruins to-morrow? It is
the regular day for seeing them, by the by."
"Not, dear Lady Erpingham, if it give you the least--"
"My sweet girl," interrupted Lady Erpingham, when a servant approached to
announce visitors at the castle.
"Will you go into the saloon, Constance?" said the elder lady, as,
thinking still of love and Arthur Godolphin, she took her way to her
dressing-room to renovate her rouge.
It would have been a pretty amusement to one of the lesser devils, if,
during the early romance of Lady Erpingham's feelings towards Arthur
Godolphin, he had foretold her the hour when she would tell how Arthur
Godolphin died a miser--just five minutes before she repaired to the
toilette to decorate the cheek of age for the heedless eyes of a common
acquaintance. 'Tis the world's way! For my part, I would undertake to
find a better world in that rookery opposite my windows.
