Mrs. Pynsent\'s publicly-expressed disapprobation of a daughter-in-law from Wetheral, was commented upon with eagerness, and many [196] anxious friends of both parties looked with mingled curiosity and amusement to the effects likely to emanate from Hatton. Miss Wycherly consented to escort a party upon a congratulatory mission to her aunt Pynsent, and she undertook to drive Lady Spottiswoode and her daughter to Hatton, accompanied by the two Mr. Tyndals.
It was an evil day to Miss Wycherly. Ever since the eventful ball, which produced the present cause of her intended visit, Mr. Spottiswoode had never renewed the subject which she had treated so lightly, or sought her society, his once constant anxiety and invariable daily practice. Since that eventful ball, so happy in its results to one party, so gloomy in its termination to herself—since that night, when her rash spirits tempted her to jest with her lover\'s serious wish to understand her sentiments, had Mr. Spottiswoode been a stranger to Lidham; and most rashly had Miss Wycherly persevered in flirting with Mr. Henry Tyndal, to evince her indifference to Mr. Spottiswoode\'s prolonged absence, and to bring down upon herself, ultimately, the reproach of having given encouragement to Henry Tyndal ungenerously and dishonourably. Her present state of mind towards Mr. Spottiswoode was unchangeable [197] affection, such as it had ever felt towards him; and such as she felt assured must ever exist there, though her own lips had made a breach between them, by trifling with his long-expressed affection.
Miss Wycherly felt aware that she had drawn down upon herself the offended feelings of an injured man, who had borne all her caprice with patient endurance; she felt, too, that there was a point when that endurance must and would burst from its fetters, and assert its freedom. Mr. Spottiswoode\'s spirit might bear with a certain degree of flippancy; but he would not endure to become a woman\'s toy, to become a thing, which the woman he loved could dare to throw from her in caprice, and recall at will. Such, Miss Wycherly knew, was not the nature of his love, whom her heart pined to recover. But her pride—the pride of a woman unwilling to bend her spirit in acknowledgment of error—persisted in allowing Henry Tyndal to attend her in public; and its false reasoning forbade her to appear wounded by the consequences of her fault. Miss Wycherly could only trust to circumstances for assistance in developing the real intentions of her offended lover; and, in making an appointment with Lady Spottiswoode, [198] she trusted events might concur to restore her again into her son\'s favour, and dispel the cloud which separated them.
In this frame of mind, and with this hope, to spread flowers on her path, Miss Wycherly drove her four beautiful bays into Shrewsbury, and drew up before Lady Spottiswoode\'s house. Mr. Spottiswoode, accompanied by the Tyndals, appeared at the hall-door to receive her; and Mr. Spottiswoode politely, but with reserve of voice and manner, expressed Lady Spottiswoode\'s hope that she would take refreshment before they proceeded to Hatton. This was Miss Wycherly\'s first meeting with her lover, since the misunderstanding which had taken place at Lady Spottiswoode\'s ball; and her heart felt and sunk under the changed expression of his voice and manner. She gave her reins to the groom, and prepared to obey Lady Spottiswoode\'s request. Mr. Henry Tyndal went forward with his brother to offer their assistance, while Mr. Spottiswoode remained on the steps, as a person who conceived that all required attention on his part, was effected in the delivery of his mother\'s message. Miss Wycherly declined Mr. Henry Tyndal\'s offered hand, and reseated herself with feelings of mingled mortification and indignation. [199] Nothing now could persuade her to descend from the barouche-box.
"Have the goodness, Mr. Tyndal, to make my excuses to Lady Spottiswoode. I rarely quit my throne, when once exalted, and she will allow of my apology. Insist upon herself and Miss Spottiswoode taking their own time. I am not in any hurry."
It appeared as though Mr. Spottiswoode had cheerfully and for ever surrendered her to Mr. Tyndal\'s attentions, for he spoke in an undertone to the young men, and returned into the house.
"Very kind fellow," cried Henry Tyndal; "he has gone himself with your message, so I can stay and admire your set out, and yourself. Upon my soul, your habit sits beautifully, doesn\'t it, John?"
"I begged you to deliver my message," replied Miss Wycherly, offended and distressed at her lover\'s action. "I desired you, Mr. Tyndal, to deliver my message, not Mr. Spottiswoode."
Henry Tyndal misunderstood, and was flattered by Miss Wycherly\'s reproof. It was clear enough to his comprehension she was angry with Spottiswoode for presuming to take a message [200] which had been delegated to himself as her regular and encouraged attendant.
"Oh, well! never mind for once, Miss Wycherly; I thought Spottiswoode was very anxious to go, or he should not have taken my place, I promise you. No, no, poor fellow! he was off before I knew what he was about. Upon my soul, your horses are magnificent."
Miss Wycherly did not hear Mr. Tyndal\'s observation; her attention was given exclusively and painfully to the hall-door, which remained open.
Lady Spottiswoode and her daughter appeared.
"My dear Miss Wycherly, you are patience itself," exclaimed both ladies.
"I never descend from my altitude," replied Miss Wycherly; "but you look forsaken without a beau of some sort; if your son would like to take a seat, Lady Spottiswoode, there is one to spare."
"Charles said he meant to call at Hatton," said Miss Spottiswoode, "and I dare say it would really be an accommodation, unless this is the day he promised to ride over to the Farnboroughs. Mr. Tyndal, before you mount your horse, just tell Charles here is room for him, by [201] Miss Wycherly\'s permission—beg pardon for the trouble."
Mr. Henry Tyndal sprang from his horse, and proceeded to obey her request. Miss Wycherly gathered up the reins, but her hands trembled with anxious curiosity to ascertain the effect of the summons. Mr. Henry Tyndal returned alone.
"Spottiswoode says he is going to Hatton, but he is engaged to ride there with the Farnborough party. It has been an appointment of some days\' standing, he says, therefore he cannot come; here he is to answer for himself."
Mr. Charles Spottiswoode appeared equipped for riding, but he excused himself to Miss Wycherly with much politeness—a style of manner so wounding to its object, so unbearably irritating to a self-upbraiding, yet proud, spirit. The colour rose in Miss Wycherly\'s face.
"I am engaged to ride to Hatton with Lord Farnborough and his daughter," proceeded Mr. Spottiswoode: "Lady Anna commanded me to attend her some time ago, and her ladyship never fails her word, therefore I must not allow her to upbraid me with the most offensive of all failings, that of deceiving expectations. Sophy, you are all the colours of the rainbow."
[202]
"Never mind, Charles," replied Miss Spottiswoode, smiling good-naturedly at the remark; "if I mix pink and green too strongly for your taste, pray remonstrate with Lady Anna Herbert; she wears three colours; perhaps your opinion may have some weight with her. I am, you know, incorrigible."
"Will Lady Anna possess more sense than her sex?" asked Mr. Spottiswoode. "Will she relinquish three favourite tints to please?"
"To please you, Charles, I dare say Lady Anna would renounce her darling colours—purple, yellow, and green. Can my dear pink and green be half so prononcée? Miss Wycherly, do speak for me! Charles always upholds Lady Anna\'s frightful combination."
"I have not upheld Lady Anna, Sophy."
"Yes, you always do, Charles. Every thing is Lady Anna now."
Miss Wycherly\'s spirit could endure no more; she turned to Lady Spottiswoode.
"We are embarked in this undertaking, and time is precious. If Sophy has settled her interesting topic, may I proceed to Hatton? Mr. Tyndal, Mr. Henry Tyndal, you must not lose sight of us; shall we proceed?"
The lady was perfectly ready to resign the [203] conversation; the Mr. Tyndals were already mounted, and Mr. Spottiswoode bowed his adieu. Miss Wycherly would not appear mortified and unhappy; she returned her lover\'s salutation with a bow and smile, which equalled his own in apparent indifference; and the party were quickly on their road. Miss Wycherly, as charioteer, had full occupation for her attention, and she was silent during the drive: her heart was heavy; and the fear of having lost Spottiswoode\'s affection weighed down her spirits and produced a mortal sorrow. Such was the consequence of a fault persisted in, because a false pride could not endure to own its transgression! Such was the suffering produced by a heart resolute to lose the man beloved, ere it would bend to acknowledge its weakness!
Miss Wycherly forgot, in her own misery, the amusement she contemplated in observing her aunt Pynsent\'s conduct, when she received the visits of congratulation upon her son\'s intended marriage. In her misery, also, she did not immediately perceive Tom Pynsent and Miss Wetheral comfortably established in the Hatton drawing-room; or did she, for some moments, perceive the Ennismores and Julia also present; while Mr. Pynsent, smilingly and [204] in high spirits, was chatting in turn to the individuals composing the circle, and calling for the congratulations of each person upon the event in prospect.
Lady Spottiswoode gazed in astonishment at the sudden and powerful change: who could have surmised that the "empty, horrible Wetherals" were now to receive a thousand attentions and affectionate solicitudes from Mrs. Pynsent!—that "the bird from the Wetheral nest" was to be wooed to its gilded cage by all the gentle lures that Mrs. Pynsent could devise!—that sweet was henceforth to be bitter, and the bitter sweet! Lady Spottiswoode gazed, and gazed again.
"Well, you are all come to say pretty things to me," said Mrs. Pynsent, addressing the newly-arrived party, "and you are all moonstruck!—not a word from one of you: why, Pen, you are all of a heap!—Well, Tyndal lads, what have you to say?—here am I, full of bustle and happiness. Tom is going to get married at last, and he has made his old mother happy. We are all happy. I tell Bobby he ought to fall down and worship Miss Wetheral, for taking Tom—but here, just come this way, Lady Spottiswoode." Mrs. Pynsent lowered her voice.—"I [205] didn\'t much like the idea of a Wetheral, once, you remember; but that\'s all ended—we won\'t remember old grievances."
"Certainly not," replied her ladyship—"one has often reason to discard opinions."
"To be sure—can\'t be for ever harping upon one string." She turned to her niece.
"Why, you look as if you had lost your love. What\'s the matter, woman?—cheer up. Get a good husband, Pen; and don\'t pay these sort of visits with such a long face!"
Miss Wycherly could not command a portion of the ever-ready spirits which had never failed her before; her mind was too oppressed, even to make an effort. Her aunt\'s observations were unheard or unnoticed, as she turned towards her cousin Tom, who came up, red-faced and happy, to demand her felicitations.
"All right, at last, Cousin Pen: all fears and tribulations are over. There is nothing like fair dealing, and I have won a wife, after a devilish sharp run, though a short one. Now say something in your own fashion upon it, Cousin Pen; something, as Spottiswoode says of you, sharp, short, and sensible."
Miss Wycherly put her hand to her eyes, and, for a few moments, she made no reply. [206] Tom Pynsent believed the trembling of her hands proceeded from fatigue.
"I have told you, Cousin Pen, a woman should not drive four-in-hand; it\'s something out of reason. A pair is very pretty handling; but your little figure perched upon a box, with four horses, won\'t answer. Your hands are all in a shake, now."
"Let Pen alone, Tom," said Mrs. Pynsent. "My niece is a Wycherly, and the Wycherlys never gave in till they were fairly under ground."
"I am ill, aunt; very ill—a glass of water; any thing just to revive me; my heart is bursting." Miss Wycherly became unable to speak, and the company surrounded her, offering every species of condolence and remedy. A glass of water was procured, and the cold sparkling draught refreshed her. She felt that an effort must be made; and it was made under sickness of heart and prostration of mind, but the effort had a beneficial effect, for it roused the sufferer from a blighting sense of misery to the recollection of present events, and she was enabled to smile and speak to her cousin with some degree of coherence.
"Tom, I do wish you happy, and I suppose I am fatigued, for I have driven fourteen miles, but I never was so ill before."
[207]
"You are ill," observed Julia Wetheral, who had seated herself near Miss Wycherly: "it must be something extraordinary which could overpower you, Penelope. You must have felt fatigue in mind and body with those gay horses."
Miss Wycherly endeavoured to form a playful reply, but a flood of tears burst forth.
"Say nothing to me, now, Julia—let me be perfectly silent for a quarter of an hour, and I shall recover."
Every one returned to their former seats, except Julia, who remained silently at Miss Wycherly\'s side, and the company again resumed their interrupted conversation. Mrs. Pynsent had her private thoughts respecting her niece\'s sudden illness, which she whispered to Lady Ennismore.
"Pen is never ill, and never tired with driving—she would drive six-in-hand, and laugh at it. I hope Pen hasn\'t taken a fancy to Tom: my sister Hancock never could bear the idea of cousins marrying."
Lady Ennismore smiled graciously.—"You are more acute, Mrs. Pynsent, than myself: you have, no doubt, excellent reasons for your suppositions."
"Lord, I never suppose any thing, Lady [208] Ennismore, or see any thing till it\'s all over; only Pen\'s illness, just now, looks queer. If it was not about Tom, I can\'t imagine the cause of Pen\'s bit of a faint, just when she was to congratulate him upon his engagement! I am sure Pen never would faint about a trifle; and, as to her driving, it\'s all my eye: my brother Bill put her upon the coach-box as soon as she could walk."
"Perhaps it is mental agitation of another kind," softly remarked Lady Ennismore.
"Pooh, pooh!—Pen has no mental agitation, Lady Ennismore. What should ail her to faint about any thing, if it wasn\'t Tom\'s marriage? My sister Hancock had always a horror of their marrying, only I thought nothing about it.—How was I to fancy Pen liked Tom, when she was always with Charles Spottiswoode?"
Lady Ennismore appeared politely convinced, by her companion\'s reasoning, that Miss Wycherly\'s faintness proceeded from her cousin\'s insensibility to her attachment, when the door was thrown open to announce Lord Farnborough and Lady Anna Herbert. Miss Wycherly cast an eye of alarm towards the hall. Lord Farnborough stalked majestically forward with his daughter under his arm, and Mr. Spottiswoode [209] followed too surely in their train. She started up—"Julia, I cannot stay here; follow me into the library."
Both ladies disappeared during the little bustle of a fresh reception, and Lady Ennismore alone observed their rapid exit. Miss Wycherly closed the door of the library, to secure themselves from interruption or intrusion; she then took off her hat, and, seating herself at the library-table, she rested her head upon her hands, while the tears flowed copiously down her cheeks. "Julia," she said—"Julia, I cannot endure this; I have lost him, and my heart will break."
Julia sat down opposite her companion, and vainly offered consolation.
"Don\'t attempt to console me, Julia," sobbed poor Miss Wycherly.
"I am past all consolation. The creature has never visited Lidham since that abominable night at Lady Spottiswoode\'s, and now he is capering after Lady Anna Herbert. Oh, Julia, if you could comprehend the misery I feel!"
"My dear Penelope, you never confessed your fault to Charles Spottiswoode, I fear, by all this grief. Have you tried to see him, or written to him since your quarrel?"
[210]
The Wycherly blood rushed into the very forehead of Penelope. She raised her head and dashed away the tears.
"Who! I beg submissively for Spottiswoode\'s forgiveness! I meanly sue for pardon to a man who has been my slave till this Lady Anna has attracted him! I tell him to return to Lidham, because I cannot live without him! I\'ll die ten thousand deaths, before I will sully my lips in imploring pardon!"
"But, Penelope, you are not reduced to implore pardon," replied Julia, in soothing accents. "You are not advised to act in any way degrading to your feelings. Did you not trifle most ungenerously with Mr. Spottiswoode at your last meeting, and have you made one advance since that time, to prove to him you were in jest?"
Miss Wycherly again drooped her head upon her hands, as she replied—"He has given me no opportunity to do so, Julia: he has been ever since that evening devoted to the Farnboroughs."
"And you have been equally devoted to the Tyndals, Penelope. Have you not made Henry Tyndal your shadow?"
"A great spoony!" ejaculated Miss Wycherly.
[211]
"Put an end to all this," resumed Julia, "and give Mr. Spottiswoode reason to think you regret your unjust conduct; decline Henry Tyndal\'s constant attendance, and do not bring upon yourself the Court Herbert reproaches. You are encouraging Henry Tyndal, Penelope, and Mr. Spottiswoode must perceive it."
"I know I have done wrong, Julia, but every thing is gone too far; I cannot, cannot subject myself to Spottiswoode\'s scorn; he will never forgive me, and I will never bear the indignity of seeking a hopeless reconciliation. If I have suffered Henry Tyndal\'s attentions, he has sought Lady Anna Herbert. No, we are divided for ever!"
The idea of a final separation from her lover\'s affection, seemed to produce agony of mind too powerful to endure, for, Miss Wycherly, rising suddenly, seized Julia\'s hands, and gazed earnestly in her face.
"Julia Wetheral, I will act upon your advice, only tell me what to do, if any thing now can restore his heart; I am wretched enough to submit to any thing short of the degradation of seeking a man\'s extinguished affection! You will not wish me to do a wrong thing, Julia, therefore, think for me, and quiet my heart."
[212]
"I will tell you what to do, Penelope; return with me into the drawing-room; do not give your attention to Mr. Henry Tyndal, and do not appear so indifferent to a man you have driven from you with unkindness."
"Julia," replied Miss Wycherly, breathing hard, "I cannot bear to see Spottiswoode with another person. I cannot witness his attention to Lady Anna. I will remain here till they are gone, or I should die upon the spot. If you could understand my miserable feelings, you would pity me, and my own folly has produced them!"
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