Lady Susan
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Jane Austen >> Lady Susan
Reginald was glad to get away, and I went to Lady Susan, curious,
indeed, to hear her account of it. "Did I not tell you," said she with a
smile, "that your brother would not leave us after all?" "You did, indeed,"
replied I very gravely; "but I flattered myself you would be mistaken." "I
should not have hazarded such an opinion," returned she, "if it had not at
that moment occurred to me that his resolution of going might be
occasioned by a conversation in which we had been this morning engaged, and
which had ended very much to his dissatisfaction, from our not rightly
understanding each other's meaning. This idea struck me at the moment, and
I instantly determined that an accidental dispute, in which I might
probably be as much to blame as himself, should not deprive you of your
brother. If you remember, I left the room almost immediately. I was
resolved to lose no time in clearing up those mistakes as far as I could.
The case was this--Frederica had set herself violently against marrying Sir
James." "And can your ladyship wonder that she should?" cried I with some
warmth; "Frederica has an excellent understanding, and Sir James has none."
"I am at least very far from regretting it, my dear sister," said she; "on
the contrary, I am grateful for so favourable a sign of my daughter's
sense. Sir James is certainly below par (his boyish manners make him appear
worse); and had Frederica possessed the penetration and the abilities which
I could have wished in my daughter, or had I even known her to possess as
much as she does, I should not have been anxious for the match." "It is odd
that you should alone be ignorant of your daughter's sense!" "Frederica
never does justice to herself; her manners are shy and childish, and
besides she is afraid of me. During her poor father's life she was a spoilt
child; the severity which it has since been necessary for me to show has
alienated her affection; neither has she any of that brilliancy of
intellect, that genius or vigour of mind which will force itself forward."
"Say rather that she has been unfortunate in her education!" "Heaven knows,
my dearest Mrs. Vernon, how fully I am aware of that; but I would wish to
forget every circumstance that might throw blame on the memory of one whose
name is sacred with me." Here she pretended to cry; I was out of patience
with her. "But what," said I, "was your ladyship going to tell me about
your disagreement with my brother?" "It originated in an action of my
daughter's, which equally marks her want of judgment and the unfortunate
dread of me I have been mentioning--she wrote to Mr. De Courcy." "I know
she did; you had forbidden her speaking to Mr. Vernon or to me on the cause
of her distress; what could she do, therefore, but apply to my brother?"
"Good God!" she exclaimed, "what an opinion you must have of me! Can you
possibly suppose that I was aware of her unhappiness! that it was my object
to make my own child miserable, and that I had forbidden her speaking to
you on the subject from a fear of your interrupting the diabolical scheme?
Do you think me destitute of every honest, every natural feeling? Am I
capable of consigning HER to everlasting: misery whose welfare it is my
first earthly duty to promote? The idea is horrible!" "What, then, was your
intention when you insisted on her silence?" "Of what use, my dear sister,
could be any application to you, however the affair might stand? Why should
I subject you to entreaties which I refused to attend to myself? Neither
for your sake nor for hers, nor for my own, could such a thing be
desirable. When my own resolution was taken I could nor wish for the
interference, however friendly, of another person. I was mistaken, it is
true, but I believed myself right." "But what was this mistake to which
your ladyship so often alludes! from whence arose so astonishing a
misconception of your daughter's feelings! Did you not know that she
disliked Sir James?" "I knew that he was not absolutely the man she would
have chosen, but I was persuaded that her objections to him did not arise
from any perception of his deficiency. You must not question me, however,
my dear sister, too minutely on this point," continued she, taking me
affectionately by the hand; "I honestly own that there is something to
conceal. Frederica makes me very unhappy! Her applying to Mr. De Courcy
hurt me particularly." "What is it you mean to infer," said I, " by this
appearance of mystery? If you think your daughter at all attached to
Reginald, her objecting to Sir James could not less deserve to be attended
to than if the cause of her objecting had been a consciousness of his folly
; and why should your ladyship, at any rate, quarrel with my brother for an
interference which, you must know, it is not in his nature to refuse when
urged in such a manner?"
"His disposition, you know, is warm, and he came to expostulate with me;
his compassion all alive for this ill-used girl, this heroine in distress!
We misunderstood each other: he believed me more to blame than I really
was; I considered his interference less excusable than I now find it. I
have a real regard for him, and was beyond expression mortified to find
it, as I thought, so ill bestowed We were both warm, and of course both to
blame. His resolution of leaving Churchhill is consistent with his general
eagerness. When I understood his intention, however, and at the same time
began to think that we had been perhaps equally mistaken in each other's
meaning, I resolved to have an explanation before it was too late. For any
member of your family I must always feel a degree of affection, and I own
it would have sensibly hurt me if my acquaintance with Mr. De Courcy had
ended so gloomily. I have now only to say further, that as I am convinced
of Frederica's having a reasonable dislike to Sir James, I shall instantly
inform him that he must give up all hope of her. I reproach myself for
having even, though innocently, made her unhappy on that score. She shall
have all the retribution in my power to make; if she value her own
happiness as much as I do, if she judge wisely, and command herself as she
ought, she may now be easy. Excuse me, my dearest sister, for thus
trespassing on your time, but I owe it to my own character; and after this
explanation I trust I am in no danger of sinking in your opinion." I could
have said, "Not much, indeed!" but I left her almost in silence. It was
the greatest stretch of forbearance I could practise. I could not have
stopped myself had I begun. Her assurance! her deceit! but I will not allow
myself to dwell on them; they will strike you sufficiently. My heart
sickens within me. As soon as I was tolerably composed I returned to the
parlour. Sir James's carriage was at the door, and he, merry as usual, soon
afterwards took his leave. How easily does her ladyship encourage or
dismiss a lover! In spite of this release, Frederica still looks unhappy:
still fearful, perhaps, of her mother's anger; and though dreading my
brother's departure, jealous, it may be, of his staying. I see how closely
she observes him and Lady Susan, poor girl! I have now no hope for her.
There is not a chance of her affection being returned. He thinks very
differently of her from what he used to do; he does her some justice, but
his reconciliation with her mother precludes every dearer hope. Prepare, my
dear mother, for the worst! The probability of their marrying is surely
heightened! He is more securely hers than ever. When that wretched event
takes place, Frederica must belong wholly to us. I am thankful that my last
letter will precede this by so little, as every moment that you can be
saved from feeling a joy which leads only to disappointment is of
consequence.
Yours ever, &c.,
CATHERINE VERNON.
XXV
LADY SUSAN TO MRS. JOHNSON
Churchhill.
I call on you, dear Alicia, for congratulations: I am my own self, gay
and triumphant! When I wrote to you the other day I was, in truth, in high
irritation, and with ample cause. Nay, I know not whether I ought to be
quite tranquil now, for I have had more trouble in restoring peace than I
ever intended to submit to--a spirit, too, resulting from a fancied sense
of superior integrity, which is peculiarly insolent! I shall not easily
forgive him, I assure you. He was actually on the point of leaving
Churchhill! I had scarcely concluded my last, when Wilson brought me word
of it. I found, therefore, that something must be done; for I did not
choose to leave my character at the mercy of a man whose passions are so
violent and so revengeful. It would have been trifling with my reputation
to allow of his departing with such an impression in my disfavour; in this
light, condescension was necessary. I sent Wilson to say that I desired to
speak with him before he went; he came immediately. The angry emotions
which had marked every feature when we last parted were partially subdued.
He seemed astonished at the summons, and looked as if half wishing and half
fearing to be softened by what I might say. If my countenance expressed
what I aimed at, it was composed and dignified; and yet, with a degree of
pensiveness which might convince him that I was not quite happy. "I beg
your pardon, sir, for the liberty I have taken in sending for you," said I;
"but as I have just learnt your intention of leaving this place to-day, I
feel it my duty to entreat that you will not on my account shorten your
visit here even an hour. I am perfectly aware that after what has passed
between us it would ill suit the feelings of either to remain longer in the
same house: so very great, so total a change from the intimacy of
friendship must render any future intercourse the severest punishment; and
your resolution of quitting Churchhill is undoubtedly in unison with our
situation, and with those lively feelings which I know you to possess. But,
at the same time, it is not for me to suffer such a sacrifice as it must be
to leave relations to whom you are so much attached, and are so dear. My
remaining here cannot give that pleasure to Mr. and Mrs. Vernon which your
society must; and my visit has already perhaps been too long. My removal,
therefore, which must, at any rate, take place soon, may, with perfect
convenience, be hastened; and I make it my particular request that I may
not in any way be instrumental in separating a family so affectionately
attached to each other. Where I go is of no consequence to anyone; of very
little to myself; but you are of importance to all your connections." Here
I concluded, and I hope you will be satisfied with my speech. Its effect on
Reginald justifies some portion of vanity, for it was no less favourable
than instantaneous. Oh, how delightful it was to watch the variations of
his countenance while I spoke! to see the struggle between returning
tenderness and the remains of displeasure. There is something agreeable in
feelings so easily worked on; not that I envy him their possession, nor
would, for the world, have such myself; but they are very convenient when
one wishes to influence the passions of another. And yet this Reginald,
whom a very few words from me softened at once into the utmost submission,
and rendered more tractable, more attached, more devoted than ever, would
have left me in the first angry swelling of his proud heart without
deigning to seek an explanation. Humbled as he now is, I cannot forgive him
such an instance of pride, and am doubtful whether I ought not to punish
him by dismissing him at once after this reconciliation, or by marrying and
teazing him for ever. But these measures are each too violent to be adopted
without some deliberation; at present my thoughts are fluctuating between
various schemes. I have many things to compass: I must punish Frederica,
and pretty severely too, for her application to Reginald; I must punish
him for receiving it so favourably, and for the rest of his conduct. I must
torment my sister-in-law for the insolent triumph of her look and manner
since Sir James has been dismissed; for, in reconciling Reginald to me, I
was not able to save that ill-fated young man; and I must make myself
amends for the humiliation to which I have stooped within these few days.
To effect all this I have various plans. I have also an idea of being soon
in town; and whatever may be my determination as to the rest, I shall
probably put THAT project in execution; for London will be always the
fairest field of action, however my views may be directed; and at any rate
I shall there be rewarded by your society, and a little dissipation, for a
ten weeks' penance at Churchhill. I believe I owe it to my character to
complete the match between my daughter and Sir James after having so long
intended it. Let me know your opinion on this point. Flexibility of mind, a
disposition easily biassed by others, is an attribute which you know I am
not very desirous of obtaining; nor has Frederica any claim to the
indulgence of her notions at the expense of her mother's inclinations. Her
idle love for Reginald, too! It is surely my duty to discourage such
romantic nonsense. All things considered, therefore, it seems incumbent on
me to take her to town and marry her immediately to Sir James. When my own
will is effected contrary to his, I shall have some credit in being on good
terms with Reginald, which at present, in fact, I have not; for though he
is still in my power, I have given up the very article by which our quarrel
was produced, and at best the honour of victory is doubtful. Send me your
opinion on all these matters, my dear Alicia, and let me know whether you
can get lodgings to suit me within a short distance of you.
Your most attached
S. VERNON.
XXVI
MRS. JOHNSON TO LADY SUSAN
Edward Street.
I am gratified by your reference, and this is my advice: that you come
to town yourself, without loss of time, but that you leave Frederica
behind. It would surely be much more to the purpose to get yourself well
established by marrying Mr. De Courcy, than to irritate him and the rest of
his family by making her marry Sir James. You should think more of yourself
and less of your daughter. She is not of a disposition to do you credit in
the world, and seems precisely in her proper place at Churchhill, with the
Vernons. But you are fitted for society, and it is shameful to have you
exiled from it. Leave Frederica, therefore, to punish herself for the
plague she has given you, by indulging that romantic tender-heartedness
which will always ensure her misery enough, and come to London as soon as
you can. I have another reason for urging this: Mainwaring came to town
last week, and has contrived, in spite of Mr. Johnson, to make
opportunities of seeing me. He is absolutely miserable about you, and
jealous to such a degree of De Courcy that it would be highly unadvisable
for them to meet at present. And yet, if you do not allow him to see you
here, I cannot answer for his not committing some great imprudence--such as
going to Churchhill, for instance, which would be dreadful! Besides, if you
take my advice, and resolve to marry De Courcy, it will be indispensably
necessary to you to get Mainwaring out of the way; and you only can have
influence enough to send him back to his wife. I have still another motive
for your coming: Mr. Johnson leaves London next Tuesday; he is going for
his health to Bath, where, if the waters are favourable to his constitution
and my wishes, he will be laid up with the gout many weeks. During his
absence we shall be able to chuse our own society, and to have true
enjoyment. I would ask you to Edward Street, but that once he forced from
me a kind of promise never to invite you to my house; nothing but my being
in the utmost distress for money should have extorted it from me. I can get
you, however, a nice drawing-room apartment in Upper Seymour Street, and we
may be always together there or here; for I consider my promise to Mr.
Johnson as comprehending only (at least in his absence) your not sleeping
in the house. Poor Mainwaring gives me such histories of his wife's
jealousy. Silly woman to expect constancy from so charming a man! but she
always was silly--intolerably so in marrying him at all, she the heiress of
a large fortune and he without a shilling: one title, I know, she might
have had, besides baronets. Her folly in forming the connection was so
great that, though Mr. Johnson was her guardian, and I do not in general
share HIS feelings, I never can forgive her.
Adieu. Yours ever,
ALICIA.
XXVII
MRS. VERNON TO LADY DE COURCY
Churchhill.
This letter, my dear Mother, will be brought you by Reginald. His long
visit is about to be concluded at last, but I fear the separation takes
place too late to do us any good. She is going to London to see her
particular friend, Mrs. Johnson. It was at first her intention that
Frederica should accompany her, for the benefit of masters, but we
overruled her there. Frederica was wretched in the idea of going, and I
could not bear to have her at the mercy of her mother; not all the masters
in London could compensate for the ruin of her comfort. I should have
feared, too, for her health, and for everything but her principles--there
I believe she is not to be injured by her mother, or her mother's friends;
but with those friends she must have mixed (a very bad set, I doubt not),
or have been left in total solitude, and I can hardly tell which would have
been worse for her. If she is with her mother, moreover, she must, alas! in
all probability be with Reginald, and that would be the greatest evil of
all. Here we shall in time be in peace, and our regular employments, our
books and conversations, with exercise, the children, and every domestic
pleasure in my power to procure her, will, I trust, gradually overcome this
youthful attachment. I should not have a doubt of it were she slighted for
any other woman in the world than her own mother. How long Lady Susan will
be in town, or whether she returns here again, I know not. I could not be
cordial in my invitation, but if she chuses to come no want of cordiality
on my part will keep her away. I could not help asking Reginald if he
intended being in London this winter, as soon as I found her ladyship's
steps would be bent thither; and though he professed himself quite
undetermined, there was something in his look and voice as he spoke which
contradicted his words. I have done with lamentation; I look upon the event
as so far decided that I resign myself to it in despair. If he leaves you
soon for London everything will be concluded.
Your affectionate, &c.,
C. VERNON.
XXVIII
MRS. JOHNSON TO LADY SUSAN
Edward Street.
My dearest Friend,--I write in the greatest distress; the most
unfortunate event has just taken place. Mr. Johnson has hit on the most
effectual manner of plaguing us all. He had heard, I imagine, by some means
or other, that you were soon to be in London, and immediately contrived to
have such an attack of the gout as must at least delay his journey to Bath,
if not wholly prevent it. I am persuaded the gout is brought on or kept off
at pleasure; it was the same when I wanted to join the Hamiltons to the
Lakes; and three years ago, when I had a fancy for Bath, nothing could
induce him to have a gouty symptom.
I am pleased to find that my letter had so much effect on you, and that
De Courcy is certainly your own. Let me hear from you as soon as you
arrive, and in particular tell me what you mean to do with Mainwaring. It
is impossible to say when I shall be able to come to you; my confinement
must be great. It is such an abominable trick to be ill here instead of at
Bath that I can scarcely command myself at all. At Bath his old aunts
would have nursed him, but here it all falls upon me; and he bears pain
with such patience that I have not the common excuse for losing my temper.
Yours ever,
ALICIA.
XXIX
LADY SUSAN VERNON TO MRS. JOHNSON
Upper Seymour Street.
My dear Alicia,--There needed not this last fit of the gout to make me
detest Mr. Johnson, but now the extent of my aversion is not to be
estimated. To have you confined as nurse in his apartment! My dear Alicia,
of what a mistake were you guilty in marrying a man of his age! just old
enough to be formal, ungovernable, and to have the gout; too old to be
agreeable, too young to die. I arrived last night about five, had scarcely
swallowed my dinner when Mainwaring made his appearance. I will not
dissemble what real pleasure his sight afforded me, nor how strongly I felt
the contrast between his person and manners and those of Reginald, to the
infinite disadvantage of the latter. For an hour or two I was even
staggered in my resolution of marrying him, and though this was too idle
and nonsensical an idea to remain long on my mind, I do not feel very eager
for the conclusion of my marriage, nor look forward with much impatience to
the time when Reginald, according to our agreement, is to be in town. I
shall probably put off his arrival under some pretence or other. He must
not come till Mainwaring is gone. I am still doubtful at times as to
marrying; if the old man would die I might not hesitate, but a state of
dependance on the caprice of Sir Reginald will not suit the freedom of my
spirit; and if I resolve to wait for that event, I shall have excuse enough
at present in having been scarcely ten months a widow. I have not given
Mainwaring any hint of my intention, or allowed him to consider my
acquaintance with Reginald as more than the commonest flirtation, and he is
tolerably appeased. Adieu, till we meet; I am enchanted with my lodgings.
Yours ever,
S. VERNON.
XXX
LADY SUSAN VERNON TO MR. DE COURCY
Upper Seymour Street.
I have received your letter, and though I do not attempt to conceal that
I am gratified by your impatience for the hour of meeting, I yet feel
myself under the necessity of delaying that hour beyond the time originally
fixed. Do not think me unkind for such an exercise of my power, nor accuse
me of instability without first hearing my reasons. In the course of my
journey from Churchhill I had ample leisure for reflection on the present
state of our affairs, and every review has served to convince me that they
require a delicacy and cautiousness of conduct to which we have hitherto
been too little attentive. We have been hurried on by our feelings to a
degree of precipitation which ill accords with the claims of our friends or
the opinion of the world. We have been unguarded in forming this hasty
engagement, but we must not complete the imprudence by ratifying it while
there is so much reason to fear the connection would be opposed by those
friends on whom you depend. It is not for us to blame any expectations on
your father's side of your marrying to advantage; where possessions are so
extensive as those of your family, the wish of increasing them, if not
strictly reasonable, is too common to excite surprize or resentment. He has
a right to require; a woman of fortune in his daughter-in-law, and I am
sometimes quarrelling with myself for suffering you to form a connection so
imprudent; but the influence of reason is often acknowledged too late by
those who feel like me. I have now been but a few months a widow, and,
however little indebted to my husband's memory for any happiness derived
from him during a union of some years, I cannot forget that the indelicacy
of so early a second marriage must subject me to the censure of the world,
and incur, what would be still more insupportable, the displeasure of Mr.
Vernon. I might perhaps harden myself in time against the injustice of
general reproach, but the loss of HIS valued esteem I am, as you well know,
ill-fitted to endure; and when to this may be added the consciousness of
having injured you with your family, how am I to support myself? With
feelings so poignant as mine, the conviction of having divided the son from
his parents would make me, even with you, the most miserable of beings. It
will surely, therefore, be advisable to delay our union--to delay it till
appearances are more promising--till affairs have taken a more favourable
turn. To assist us In such a resolution I feel that absence will be
necessary. We must not meet. Cruel as this sentence may appear, the
necessity of pronouncing it, which can alone reconcile it to myself, will
be evident to you when you have considered our situation in the light in
which I have found myself imperiously obliged to place it. You may be--you
must be--well assured that nothing but the strongest conviction of duty
could induce me to wound my own feelings by urging a lengthened separation,
and of insensibility to yours you will hardly suspect me. Again, therefore,
I say that we ought not, we must not, yet meet. By a removal for some
months from each other we shall tranquillise the sisterly fears of Mrs.
Vernon, who, accustomed herself to the enjoyment of riches, considers
fortune as necessary everywhere, and whose sensibilities are not of a
nature to comprehend ours. Let me hear from you soon--very soon. Tell me
that you submit to my arguments, and do not reproach me for using such. I
cannot bear reproaches: my spirits are not so high as to need being
repressed. I must endeavour to seek amusement, and fortunately many of my
friends are in town ; amongst them the Mainwarings; you know how sincerely
I regard both husband and wife.