The Absentee (8 page)

Miss Nugent was so well apprised, and so thoroughly convinced of all
this, that she never for one moment allowed herself to think of Lord
Colambre as a lover. Duty, honour, and gratitude—gratitude, the strong
feeling and principle of her mind—forbade it; she had so prepared and
habituated herself to consider him as a person with whom she could not
possibly be united that, with perfect ease and simplicity, she behaved
towards him exactly as if he was her brother—not in the equivocating
sentimental romance style in which ladies talk of treating men as
their brothers, whom they are all the time secretly thinking of and
endeavouring to please as lovers—not using this phrase as a convenient
pretence, a safe mode of securing herself from suspicion or scandal, and
of enjoying the advantages of confidence and the intimacy of friendship,
till the propitious moment, when it should be time to declare or
avow THE SECRET OF THE HEART. No; this young lady was quite above
all double-dealing; she had no mental reservation—no metaphysical
subtleties—but, with plain, unsophisticated morality, in good faith
and simple truth, acted as she professed, thought what she said, and was
that which she seemed to be.

As soon as Lady Clonbrony was able to see anybody, her niece sent to
Mrs. Broadhurst, who was very intimate with the family; she used to
come frequently, almost every evening, to sit with the invalid. Miss
Broadhurst accompanied her mother, for she did not like to go out with
any other chaperon—it was disagreeable to spend her time alone at home,
and most agreeable to spend it with her friend Miss Nugent. In this
she had no design, no coquetry; Miss Broadhurst had too lofty and
independent a spirit to stoop to coquetry: she thought that, in their
interview at the gala, she understood Lord Colambre, and that
he understood her—that he was not inclined to court her for her
fortune—that she would not be content with any suitor who was not a
lover. She was two or three years older than Lord Colambre, perfectly
aware of her want of beauty, yet with a just sense of her own merit,
and of what was becoming and due to the dignity of her sex. This, she
trusted, was visible in her manners, and established in Lord Colambre's
mind; so that she ran no risk of being misunderstood by him; and as to
what the rest of the world thought, she was so well used to hear weekly
and daily reports of her going to be married to fifty different people,
that she cared little for what was said on this subject. Indeed,
conscious of rectitude, and with an utter contempt for mean and
commonplace gossiping, she was, for a woman, and a young woman, rather
too disdainful of the opinion of the world. Mrs. Broadhurst, though her
daughter had fully explained herself respecting Lord Colambre, before
she began this course of visiting, yet rejoiced that, even on this
footing, there should be constant intercourse between them. It was Mrs.
Broadhurst's warmest wish that her daughter should obtain rank, and
connect herself with an ancient family: she was sensible that the young
lady's being older than the gentleman might be an obstacle; and
very sorry she was to find that her daughter had so imprudently, so
unnecessarily, declared her age; but still this little obstacle might
be overcome; much greater difficulties in the marriage of inferior
heiresses were every day got over, and thought nothing of. Then, as to
the young lady's own sentiments, her mother knew them better than she
did herself; she understood her daughter's pride, that she dreaded to be
made an object of bargain and sale; but Mrs. Broadhurst, who, with all
her coarseness of mind, had rather a better notion of love matters
than Lady Clonbrony, perceived, through her daughter's horror of being
offered to Lord Colambre, through her anxiety that nothing approaching
to an advance on the part of her family should be made, that if Lord
Colambre should himself advance, he would stand a better chance of being
accepted than any other of the numerous persons who had yet aspired to
the favour of this heiress. The very circumstance of his having paid no
court to her at first, operated in his favour; for it proved that he was
not mercenary, and that, whatever attention he might afterwards show,
she must be sure would be sincere and disinterested.

'And now, let them but see one another in this easy, intimate kind of
way, and you will find, my dear Lady Clonbrony, things will go on of
their own accord, all the better for our—minding our cards—and never
minding anything else. I remember, when I was young—but let that
pass—let the young people see one another, and manage their own affairs
their own way—let them be together—that's all I say. Ask half the
men you are acquainted with why they married, and their answer, if they
speak truth, will be: "Because I met Miss such-a-one at such a place,
and we were continually together." Propinquity! propinquity!—as
my father used to say—and he was married five times, and twice to
heiresses.'

In consequence of this plan of leaving things to themselves, every
evening Lady Clonbrony made out her own little card-table with Mrs.
Broadhurst, and a Mr. and Miss Pratt, a brother and sister, who were the
most obliging, convenient neighbours imaginable. From time to time,
as Lady Clonbrony gathered up her cards, she would direct an inquiring
glance to the group of young people at the other table; whilst the more
prudent Mrs. Broadhurst sat plump with her back to them, pursing up her
lips, and contracting her brows in token of deep calculation, looking
down impenetrable at her cards, never even noticing Lady Clonbrony's
glances, but inquiring from her partner, 'How many they were by
honours?'

The young party generally consisted of Miss Broadhurst, Lord Colambre,
Miss Nugent, and her admirer, Mr. Salisbury. Mr. Salisbury was a
middle-aged gentleman, very agreeable, and well informed; he had
travelled; had seen a great deal of the world; had lived in the best
company; had acquired what is called good TACT; was full of anecdote,
not mere gossiping anecdotes that lead to nothing, but anecdotes
characteristic of national manners, of human nature in general, or of
those illustrious individuals who excite public curiosity and interest.
Miss Nugent had seen him always in large companies, where he was admired
for his SCAVOIR-VIVRE, and for his entertaining anecdotes, but where
he had no opportunity of producing any of the higher powers of his
understanding, or showing character. She found that Mr. Salisbury
appeared to her quite a different person when conversing with Lord
Colambre. Lord Colambre, with that ardent thirst for knowledge which it
is always agreeable to gratify, had an air of openness and generosity,
a frankness, a warmth of manner, which, with good breeding, but with
something beyond it and superior to its established forms, irresistibly
won the confidence and attracted the affection of those with whom he
conversed. His manners were peculiarly agreeable to a person like Mr.
Salisbury, tired of the sameness and egotism of men of the world.

Miss Nugent had seldom till now had the advantage of hearing much
conversation on literary subjects. In the life she had been compelled to
lead she had acquired accomplishments, had exercised her understanding
upon everything that passed before her, and from circumstances had
formed her judgment and her taste by observations on real life; but the
ample page of knowledge had never been unrolled to her eyes. She had
never had opportunities of acquiring literature herself, but she
admired it in others, particularly in her friend Miss Broadhurst. Miss
Broadhurst had received all the advantages of education which money
could procure, and had profited by them in a manner uncommon among those
for whom they are purchased in such abundance; she not only had had many
masters, and read many books, but had thought of what she read, and had
supplied, by the strength and energy of her own mind, what cannot be
acquired by the assistance of masters. Miss Nugent, perhaps overvaluing
the information that she did not possess, and free from all idea of
envy, looked up to her friend as to a superior being, with a sort of
enthusiastic admiration; and now, with 'charmed attention,' listened,
by turns, to her, to Mr. Salisbury, and to Lord Colambre, whilst they
conversed on literary subjects—listened, with a countenance so full
of intelligence, of animation so expressive of every good and kind
affection, that the gentlemen did not always know what they were saying.

'Pray go on,' said she, once, to Mr. Salisbury; 'you stop, perhaps,
from politeness to me—from compassion to my ignorance; but, though I am
ignorant, you do not tire me, I assure you. Did you ever condescend to
read the Arabian tales? Like him whose eyes were touched by the magical
application from the dervise, I am enabled at once to see the riches
of a new world—Oh! how unlike, how superior to that in which I have
lived!—the GREAT world, as it is called.'

Lord Colambre brought down a beautiful edition of the Arabian tales,
looked for the story to which Miss Nugent had alluded, and showed it to
Miss Broadhurst, who was also searching for it in another volume.

Lady Clonbrony, from her card-table, saw the young people thus engaged.

'I profess not to understand these things so well as you say you do, my
dear Mrs. Broadhurst,' whispered she; 'but look there now; they are
at their books! What do you expect can come of that sort of thing? So
ill-bred, and downright rude of Colambre, I must give him a hint.'

'No, no, for mercy's sake! my dear Lady Clonbrony, no hints, no hints,
no remarks! What would you have!—she reading, and my lord at the back
of her chair, leaning over—and allowed, mind, to lean over to read the
same thing. Can't be better! Never saw any man yet allowed to come so
near her! Now, Lady Clonbrony, not a word, not a look, I beseech.'

'Well, well!—but if they had a little music.'

'My daughter's tired of music. How much do I owe your ladyship
now?—three rubbers, I think. Now, though you would not believe it of a
young girl,' continued Mrs. Broadhurst, 'I can assure your ladyship, my
daughter would often rather go to a book than a ball.'

'Well, now, that's very extraordinary, in the style in which she has
been brought up; yet books and all that are so fashionable now, that
it's very natural,' said Lady Clonbrony.

About this time, Mr. Berryl, Lord Colambre's Cambridge friend, for whom
his lordship had fought the battle of the curricle with Mordicai, came
to town. Lord Colambre introduced him to his mother, by whom he was
graciously received; for Mr. Berryl was a young gentleman of good
figure, good address, good family, heir to a good fortune, and in every
respect a fit match for Miss Nugent. Lady Clonbrony thought that it
would be wise to secure him for her niece before he should make his
appearance in the London world, where mothers and daughters would
soon make him feel his own consequence. Mr. Berryl, as Lord Colambre's
intimate friend, was admitted to the private evening parties at Lady
Clonbrony's, and he contributed to render them still more agreeable.
His information, his habits of thinking, and his views, were all totally
different from Mr. Salisbury's; and their collision continually struck
out that sparkling novelty which pleases peculiarly in conversation. Mr.
Berryl's education, disposition, and tastes, fitted him exactly for
the station which he was destined to fill in society—that of a COUNTRY
GENTLEMAN; not meaning by that expression a mere eating, drinking,
hunting, shooting, ignorant country squire of the old race, which is
now nearly extinct; but a cultivated, enlightened, independent English
country gentleman—the happiest, perhaps, of human beings. On the
comparative felicity of the town and country life; on the dignity,
utility, elegance, and interesting nature of their different
occupations, and general scheme of passing their time, Mr. Berryl and
Mr. Salisbury had one evening a playful, entertaining, and, perhaps,
instructive conversation; each party, at the end, remaining, as
frequently happens, of their own opinion. It was observed that Miss
Broadhurst ably and warmly defended Mr. Berryl's side of the question;
and in their views, plans, and estimates of life, there appeared a
remarkable, and as Lord Colambre thought, a happy coincidence. When she
was at last called upon to give her decisive judgment between a town and
a country life, she declared that 'if she were condemned to the extremes
of either, she should prefer a country life, as much as she should
prefer Robinson Crusoe's diary to the journal of the idle man in the
SPECTATOR.'

'Lord bless me! Mrs. Broadhurst, do you hear what your daughter is
saying?' cried Lady Clonbrony, who, from the card-table, lent an
attentive ear to all that was going forward. 'Is it possible that Miss
Broadhurst, with her fortune, and pretensions, and sense, can really be
serious in saying she would be content to live in the country?'

'What's that you say, child, about living in the country?' said Mrs.
Broadhurst.

Miss Broadhurst repeated what she had said.

'Girls always think so who have lived in town,' said Mrs. Broadhurst.
'They are always dreaming of sheep and sheephooks; but the first winter
the country cures them; a shepherdess, in winter, is a sad and sorry
sort of personage, except at a masquerade.'

'Colambre,' said Lady Clonbrony, 'I am sure Miss Broadhurst's sentiments
about town life, and all that, must delight you; for do you know, ma'am,
he is always trying to persuade me to give up living in town? Colambre
and Miss Broadhurst perfectly agree.'

'Mind your cards, my dear Lady Clonbrony,' interrupted Mrs. Broadhurst,
'in pity to your partner. Mr. Pratt has certainly the patience of
Job—your ladyship has revoked twice this hand.'

Lady Clonbrony begged a thousand pardons, fixed her eyes and endeavoured
to fix her mind on the cards; but there was something said at the
other end of the room, about an estate in Cambridgeshire, which soon
distracted her attention again. Mr. Pratt certainly had the patience of
Job. She revoked, and lost the game, though they had four by honours.