Lady Susan
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Jane Austen >> Lady Susan
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. In the breakfast-room we found Lady Susan, and a
young man of gentlemanlike appearance, whom she introduced by the name of
Sir James Martin--the very person, as you may remember, whom it was said
she had been at pains to detach from Miss Mainwaring; but the conquest, it
seems, was not designed for herself, or she has since transferred it to her
daughter; for Sir James is now desperately in love with Frederica, and with
full encouragement from mamma. The poor girl, however, I am sure, dislikes
him; and though his person and address are very well, he appears, both to
Mr. Vernon and me, a very weak young man. Frederica looked so shy, so
confused, when we entered the room, that I felt for her exceedingly. Lady
Susan behaved with great attention to her visitor; and yet I thought I
could perceive that she had no particular pleasure in seeing him. Sir James
talked a great deal, and made many civil excuses to me for the liberty he
had taken in coming to Churchhill--mixing more frequent laughter with his
discourse than the subject required--said many things over and over again,
and told Lady Susan three times that he had seen Mrs. Johnson a few
evenings before. He now and then addressed Frederica, but more frequently
her mother. The poor girl sat all this time without opening her lips--her
eyes cast down, and her colour varying every instant; while Reginald
observed all that passed in perfect silence. At length Lady Susan, weary, I
believe, of her situation, proposed walking; and we left the two gentlemen
together, to put on our pelisses. As we went upstairs Lady Susan begged
permission to attend me for a few moments in my dressing-room, as she was
anxious to speak with me in private. I led her thither accordingly, and as
soon as the door was closed, she said: "I was never more surprized in my
life than by Sir James's arrival, and the suddenness of it requires some
apology to you, my dear sister; though to ME, as a mother, it is highly
flattering. He is so extremely attached to my daughter that he could not
exist longer without seeing her. Sir James is a young man of an amiable
disposition and excellent character; a little too much of the rattle,
perhaps, but a year or two will rectify THAT: and he is in other respects
so very eligible a match for Frederica, that I have always observed his
attachment with the greatest pleasure; and am persuaded that you and my
brother will give the alliance your hearty approbation. I have never
before mentioned the likelihood of its taking place to anyone, because I
thought that whilst Frederica continued at school it had better not be
known to exist; but now, as I am convinced that Frederica is too old ever
to submit to school confinement, and have, therefore, begun to consider her
union with Sir James as not very distant, I had intended within a few days
to acquaint yourself and Mr. Vernon with the whole business. I am sure, my
dear sister, you will excuse my remaining silent so long, and agree with me
that such circumstances, while they continue from any cause in suspense,
cannot be too cautiously concealed. When you have the happiness of
bestowing your sweet little Catherine, some years hence, on a man who in
connection and character is alike unexceptionable, you will know what I
feel now; though, thank Heaven, you cannot have all my reasons for
rejoicing in such an event. Catherine will be amply provided for, and not,
like my Frederica, indebted to a fortunate establishment for the comforts
of life." She concluded by demanding my congratulations. I gave them
somewhat awkwardly, I believe; for, in fact, the sudden disclosure of so
important a matter took from me the power of speaking with any clearness,
She thanked me, however, most affectionately, for my kind concern in the
welfare of herself and daughter; and then said: "I am not apt to deal in
professions, my dear Mrs. Vernon, and I never had the convenient talent of
affecting sensations foreign to my heart; and therefore I trust you will
believe me when I declare, that much as I had heard in your praise before I
knew you, I had no idea that I should ever love you as I now do; and I must
further say that your friendship towards me is more particularly gratifying
because I have reason to believe that some attempts were made to prejudice
you against me. I only wish that they, whoever they are, to whom I am
indebted for such kind intentions, could see the terms on which we now are
together, and understand the real affection we feel for each other; but I
will not detain you any longer. God bless you, for your goodness to me and
my girl, and continue to you all your present happiness." What can one say
of such a woman, my dear mother? Such earnestness such solemnity of
expression! and yet I cannot help suspecting the truth of everything she
says. As for Reginald, I believe he does not know what to make of the
matter. When Sir James came, he appeared all astonishment and perplexity;
the folly of the young man and the confusion of Frederica entirely
engrossed him; and though a little private discourse with Lady Susan has
since had its effect, he is still hurt, I am sure, at her allowing of such
a man's attentions to her daughter. Sir James invited himself with great
composure to remain here a few days--hoped we would not think it odd, was
aware of its being very impertinent, but he took the liberty of a relation;
and concluded by wishing, with a laugh, that he might be really one very
soon. Even Lady Susan seemed a little disconcerted by this forwardness; in
her heart I am persuaded she sincerely wished him gone. But something must
be done for this poor girl, if her feelings are such as both I and her
uncle believe them to be. She must not be sacrificed to policy or ambition,
and she must not be left to suffer from the dread of it. The girl whose
heart can distinguish Reginald De Courcy, deserves, however he may slight
her, a better fate than to be Sir James Martin's wife. As soon as I can get
her alone, I will discover the real truth; but she seems to wish to avoid
me. I hope this does not proceed from anything wrong, and that I shall not
find out I have thought too well of her. Her behaviour to Sir James
certainly speaks the greatest consciousness and embarrassment, but I see
nothing in it more like encouragement. Adieu, my dear mother.
Yours, &c.,
C. VERNON.
XXI
MISS VERNON TO MR DE COURCY
Sir,--I hope you will excuse this liberty; I am forced upon it by the
greatest distress, or I should be ashamed to trouble you. I am very
miserable about Sir James Martin, and have no other way in the world of
helping myself but by writing to you, for I am forbidden even speaking to
my uncle and aunt on the subject; and this being the case, I am afraid my
applying to you will appear no better than equivocation, and as if I
attended to the letter and not the spirit of mamma's commands. But if you
do not take my part and persuade her to break it off, I shall be half
distracted, for I cannot bear him. No human being but YOU could have any
chance of prevailing with her. If you will, therefore, have the unspeakably
great kindness of taking my part with her, and persuading her to send Sir
James away, I shall be more obliged to you than it is possible for me to
express. I always disliked him from the first: it is not a sudden fancy, I
assure you, sir; I always thought him silly and impertinent and
disagreeable, and now he is grown worse than ever. I would rather work for
my bread than marry him. I do not know how to apologize enough for this
letter; I know it is taking so great a liberty. I am aware how dreadfully
angry it will make mamma, but I remember the risk.
I am, Sir, your most humble servant,
F. S. V.
XXII
LADY SUSAN TO MRS. JOHNSON
Churchhill.
This is insufferable! My dearest friend, I was never so enraged before,
and must relieve myself by writing to you, who I know will enter into all
my feelings. Who should come on Tuesday but Sir James Martin! Guess my
astonishment, and vexation--for, as you well know, I never wished him to be
seen at Churchhill. What a pity that you should not have known his
intentions! Not content with coming, he actually invited himself to remain
here a few days. I could have poisoned him! I made the best of it, however,
and told my story with great success to Mrs. Vernon, who, whatever might be
her real sentiments, said nothing in opposition to mine. I made a point
also of Frederica's behaving civilly to Sir James, and gave her to
understand that I was absolutely determined on her marrying him. She said
something of her misery, but that was all. I have for some time been more
particularly resolved on the match from seeing the rapid increase of her
affection for Reginald, and from not feeling secure that a knowledge of
such affection might not in the end awaken a return. Contemptible as a
regard founded only on compassion must make them both in my eyes, I felt by
no means assured that such might not be the consequence. It is true that
Reginald had not in any degree grown cool towards me; but yet he has lately
mentioned Frederica spontaneously and unnecessarily, and once said
something in praise of her person. HE was all astonishment at the
appearance of my visitor, and at first observed Sir James with an attention
which I was pleased to see not unmixed with jealousy; but unluckily it was
impossible for me really to torment him, as Sir James, though extremely
gallant to me, very soon made the whole party understand that his heart was
devoted to my daughter. I had no great difficulty in convincing De Courcy,
when we were alone, that I was perfectly justified, all things considered,
in desiring the match; and the whole business seemed most comfortably
arranged. They could none of them help perceiving that Sir James was no
Solomon; but I had positively forbidden Frederica complaining to Charles
Vernon or his wife, and they had therefore no pretence for interference;
though my impertinent sister, I believe, wanted only opportunity for doing
so. Everything, however, was going on calmly and quietly; and, though I
counted the hours of Sir James's stay, my mind was entirely satisfied with
the posture of affairs. Guess, then, what I must feel at the sudden
disturbance of all my schemes; and that, too, from a quarter where I had
least reason to expect it. Reginald came this morning into my dressing-room
with a very unusual solemnity of countenance, and after some preface
informed me in so many words that he wished to reason with me on the
impropriety and unkindness of allowing Sir James Martin to address my
daughter contrary to her inclinations. I was all amazement. When I found
that he was not to be laughed out of his design, I calmly begged an
explanation, and desired to know by what he was impelled, and by whom
commissioned, to reprimand me. He then told me, mixing in his speech a few
insolent compliments and ill-timed expressions of tenderness, to which I
listened with perfect indifference, that my daughter had acquainted him
with some circumstances concerning herself, Sir James, and me which had
given him great uneasiness. In short, I found that she had in the first
place actually written to him to request his interference, and that, on
receiving her letter, he had conversed with her on the subject of it, in
order to understand the particulars, and to assure himself of her real
wishes. I have not a doubt but that the girl took this opportunity of
making downright love to him. I am convinced of it by the manner in which
he spoke of her. Much good may such love do him! I shall ever despise the
man who can be gratified by the passion which he never wished to inspire,
nor solicited the avowal of. I shall always detest them both. He can have
no true regard for me, or he would not have listened to her; and SHE, with
her little rebellious heart and indelicate feelings, to throw herself into
the protection of a young man with whom she has scarcely ever exchanged two
words before! I am equally confounded at HER impudence and HIS credulity.
How dared he believe what she told him in my disfavour! Ought he not to
have felt assured that I must have unanswerable motives for all that I had
done? Where was his reliance on my sense and goodness then? Where the
resentment which true love would have dictated against the person defaming
me--that person, too, a chit, a child, without talent or education, whom he
had been always taught to despise? I was calm for some time; but the
greatest degree of forbearance may be overcome, and I hope I was afterwards
sufficiently keen. He endeavoured, long endeavoured, to soften my
resentment; but that woman is a fool indeed who, while insulted by
accusation, can be worked on by compliments. At length he left me, as
deeply provoked as myself; and he showed his anger more. I was quite cool,
but he gave way to the most violent indignation; I may therefore expect it
will the sooner subside, and perhaps his may be vanished for ever, while
mine will be found still fresh and implacable. He is now shut up in his
apartment, whither I heard him go on leaving mine. How unpleasant, one
would think, must be his reflections! but some people's feelings are
incomprehensible. I have not yet tranquillised myself enough to see
Frederica. SHE shall not soon forget the occurrences of this day; she shall
find that she has poured forth her tender tale of love in vain, and exposed
herself for ever to the contempt of the whole world, and the severest
resentment of her injured mother.
Your affectionate
S. VERNON.
XXIII
MRS. VERNON TO LADY DE COURCY
Churchhill.
Let me congratulate you, my dearest Mother! The affair which has given
us so much anxiety is drawing to a happy conclusion. Our prospect is most
delightful, and since matters have now taken so favourable a turn, I am
quite sorry that I ever imparted my apprehensions to you; for the pleasure
of learning that the danger is over is perhaps dearly purchased by all that
you have previously suffered. I am so much agitated by delight that I can
scarcely hold a pen; but am determined to send you a few short lines by
James, that you may have some explanation of what must so greatly astonish
you, as that Reginald should be returning to Parklands. I was sitting about
half an hour ago with Sir James in the breakfast parlour, when my brother
called me out of the room. I instantly saw that something was the matter;
his complexion was raised, and he spoke with great emotion; you know his
eager manner, my dear mother, when his mind is interested. "Catherine,"
said he, "I am going home to-day; I am sorry to leave you, but I must go:
it is a great while since I have seen my father and mother. I am going to
send James forward with my hunters immediately; if you have any letter,
therefore, he can take it. I shall not be at home myself till Wednesday or
Thursday, as I shall go through London, where I have business; but before I
leave you," he continued, speaking in a lower tone, and with still greater
energy, "I must warn you of one thing--do not let Frederica Vernon be made
unhappy by that Martin. He wants to marry her; her mother promotes the
match, but she cannot endure the idea of it. Be assured that I speak from
the fullest conviction of the truth of what I say; I Know that Frederica is
made wretched by Sir James's continuing here. She is a sweet girl, and
deserves a better fate. Send him away immediately; he is only a fool: but
what her mother can mean, Heaven only knows! Good bye," he added, shaking
my hand with earnestness; "I do not know when you will see me again; but
remember what I tell you of Frederica; you MUST make it your business to
see justice done her. She is an amiable girl, and has a very superior mind
to what we have given her credit for." He then left me, and ran upstairs. I
would not try to stop him, for I know what his feelings must be. The nature
of mine, as I listened to him, I need not attempt to describe; for a minute
or two I remained in the same spot, overpowered by wonder of a most
agreeable sort indeed; yet it required some consideration to be tranquilly
happy. In about ten minutes after my return to the parlour Lady Susan
entered the room. I concluded, of course, that she and Reginald had been
quarrelling; and looked with anxious curiosity for a confirmation of my
belief in her face. Mistress of deceit, however, she appeared perfectly
unconcerned, and after chatting on indifferent subjects for a short time,
said to me, "I find from Wilson that we are going to lose Mr. De Courcy--is
it true that he leaves Churchhill this morning?" I replied that it was. "He
told us nothing of all this last night," said she, laughing, "or even this
morning at breakfast; but perhaps he did not know it himself. Young men are
often hasty in their resolutions, and not more sudden in forming than
unsteady in keeping them. I should not be surprised if he were to change
his mind at last, and not go." She soon afterwards left the room. I trust,
however, my dear mother, that we have no reason to fear an alteration of
his present plan; things have gone too far. They must have quarrelled, and
about Frederica, too. Her calmness astonishes me. What delight will be
yours in seeing him again; in seeing him still worthy your esteem, still
capable of forming your happiness! When I next write I shall be able to
tell you that Sir James is gone, Lady Susan vanquished, and Frederica at
peace. We have much to do, but it shall be done. I am all impatience to
hear how this astonishing change was effected. I finish as I began, with
the warmest congratulations.
Yours ever, &c.,
CATH. VERNON.
XXIV
FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME
Churchhill.
Little did I imagine, my dear Mother, when I sent off my last letter,
that the delightful perturbation of spirits I was then in would undergo so
speedy, so melancholy a reverse. I never can sufficiently regret that I
wrote to you at all. Yet who could have foreseen what has happened? My dear
mother, every hope which made me so happy only two hours ago has vanished.
The quarrel between Lady Susan and Reginald is made up, and we are all as
we were before. One point only is gained. Sir James Martin is dismissed.
What are we now to look forward to? I am indeed disappointed; Reginald was
all but gone, his horse was ordered and all but brought to the door; who
would not have felt safe? For half an hour I was in momentary expectation
of his departure. After I had sent off my letter to you, I went to Mr.
Vernon, and sat with him in his room talking over the whole matter, and
then determined to look for Frederica, whom I had not seen since breakfast.
I met her on the stairs, and saw that she was crying. "My dear aunt," said
she, "he is going--Mr. De Courcy is going, and it is all my fault. I am
afraid you will be very angry with me. but indeed I had no idea it would
end so." "My love," I replied, "do not think it necessary to apologize to
me on that account. I shall feel myself under an obligation to anyone who
is the means of sending my brother home, because," recollecting myself, "I
know my father wants very much to see him. But what is it you have done to
occasion all this?" She blushed deeply as she answered: "I was so unhappy
about Sir James that I could not help--I have done something very wrong, I
know; but you have not an idea of the misery I have been in: and mamma had
ordered me never to speak to you or my uncle about it, and--" "You
therefore spoke to my brother to engage his interference," said I, to save
her the explanation. "No, but I wrote to him--I did indeed, I got up this
morning before it was light, and was two hours about it; and when my letter
was done I thought I never should have courage to give it. After breakfast
however, as I was going to my room, I met him in the passage, and then, as
I knew that everything must depend on that moment, I forced myself to give
it. He was so good as to take it immediately. I dared not look at him, and
ran away directly. I was in such a fright I could hardly breathe. My dear
aunt, you do not know how miserable I have been." " Frederica" said I,
"you ought to have told me all your distresses. You would have found in me
a friend always ready to assist you. Do you think that your uncle or I
should not have espoused your cause as warmly as my brother?" "Indeed, I
did not doubt your kindness," said she, colouring again, "but I thought Mr.
De Courcy could do anything with my mother; but I was mistaken: they have
had a dreadful quarrel about it, and he is going away. Mamma will never
forgive me, and I shall be worse off than ever." "No, you shall not," I
replied; "in such a point as this your mother's prohibition ought not to
have prevented your speaking to me on the subject. She has no right to make
you unhappy, and she shall NOT do it. Your applying, however, to Reginald
can be productive only of good to all parties. I believe it is best as it
is. Depend upon it that you shall not be made unhappy any longer." At that
moment how great was my amonishment at seeing Reginald come out of Lady
Susan's dressing-room. My heart misgave me instantly. His confusion at
seeing me was very evident. Frederica immediately disappeared. "Are you
going?" I said; "you will find Mr. Vernon in his own room." "No,
Catherine," he replied, "I am not going. Will you let me speak to you a
moment?" We went into my room. "I find," he continued, his confusion
increasing as he spoke, "that I have been acting with my usual foolish
impetuosity. I have entirely misunderstood Lady Susan, and was on the point
of leaving the house under a false impression of her conduct. There has
been some very great mistake; we have been all mistaken, I fancy. Frederica
does not know her mother. Lady Susan means nothing but her good, but she
will not make a friend of her. Lady Susan does not always know, therefore,
what will make her daughter happy. Besides, I could have no right to
interfere. Miss Vernon was mistaken in applying to me. In short, Catherine,
everything has gone wrong, but it is now all happily settled. Lady Susan, I
believe, wishes to speak to you about it, if you are at leisure."
"Certainly," I replied, deeply sighing at the recital of so lame a story. I
made no comments, however, for words would have been vain.