THE calm sadness with which Camilla had opened her letter was soon broken in upon by the interest of its contents, the view it displayed of her duties, her shame at her recent failures, and her fears for their future execution; and yet more than all, by the full decision in which it seemed written, that the unhappy partiality she had exposed, had been always, and would for ever remain unreturned.
She started at the intimation how near she stood to detection even from Edgar himself, and pride, reason, modesty, all arose to strengthen her with resolution, to guard every future conflict from his observation.
The article concerning fortune touched her to the quick. Nothing appeared to her so degrading as the most distant idea that such a circumstance could have any force with her. But the justice done to Edgar she gloried in, as an apology for her feelings, and exculpatory of her weakness. Her tears flowed fast at every expression of kindness to herself, her burning blushes dried them up as they were falling, at every hint of her feebleness, and the hopelessness of its cause; but wholly subdued by the last paragraph, which with reverence she pressed to her lips, she offered up, the most solemn vows of a strict and entire observance of every injunction which the letter contained.
She was thus employed, unnoticing the passage of time, when Mrs. Arlbery tapped at her door, and asked if she wished to dine in her own room.
Surprised at the question, and ashamed to be thus seen, she was beginning a thousand apologies for not being yet dressed: but Mrs. Arlbery, interrupting her, said, ‘I never listen to excuses. ’Tis the only battery that overpowers me. If, by any mischance, and in an evil hour, some country cousin, not knowing my ways, or some antediluvian prig, not minding them, happen to fall upon me with formal speeches, where I can make no escape, a fit of yawning takes me immediately, and I am demolished for the rest of the day.’
Camilla, attempting to smile, promised to play the country cousin no more. Mrs. Arlbery then observed she had been weeping; and taking her hand, with an examining look, ‘My lovely young friend,’ she cried, ‘this will never do!’
‘What, ma’am?... how?... what?..’
‘Nay, nay, don’t be frightened. Come down to dinner, and we’ll talk over the hows? and the whats? afterwards. Never mind your dress; we go no where this evening; and I make a point not to suffer any body to change their attire in my house, merely because the afternoon is taking place of the morning. It seems to me a miserable compliment to the mistress of a mansion, to see her guests only equip themselves for the table. For my part, I deem the garb that is good enough for me, good enough for my geese and turkies... apple and oyster-sauce included.’
Camilla then followed her down stairs, where she found no company but Sir Sedley Clarendel.
‘Come, my dear Miss Tyrold,’ said Mrs. Arlbery, ‘you and I may now consider ourselves as tête-à-tête; Sir Sedley won’t be much in our way. He hears and sees nothing but himself.’
‘Ecstatically flattering that!’ cried Sir Sedley; ‘dulcet to every nerve!’
‘O, I know you listen just now, because you are yourself my theme. But the moment I take another, you will forget we are either of us in the room.’
‘Inhuman to the quick!’ cried he; ‘barbarous to a point!’
‘This is a creature so strange, Miss Tyrold,’ said Mrs. Arlbery, ‘that I must positively initiate you a little into his character;-or, rather, into its own caricature; for as to character, he has had none intelligible these three years.–See but how he smiles at the very prospect of being portrayed, in defiance of all his efforts to look unconcerned! yet he knows I shall shew him no mercy. But, like all other egotists, the only thing to really disconcert him, would be to take no notice of him. Make him but the first subject of discourse, and praise or abuse are pretty much the same to him.’
‘O shocking! shocking! killing past resuscitation! Abominably horrid, I protest!’
‘O I have not begun yet. This is an observation to suit thousands. But do not fear; you shall have all your appropriations. Miss Tyrold, you are to be auditor and judge: and I will save you the time and the trouble which decyphering this animal, so truly a non-descript, might cost you.’
‘What a tremendous exordium! distressing to a degree! I am agued with trepidation!’
‘O you wretch! you know you are enchanted. But no further interruption! I send you to Coventry for the next ten minutes.
‘This man, my dear Miss Tyrold, whom we are about to delineate, was meant by nature, and prepared by art, for some thing greatly superior to what he now appears: but, unhappily, he had neither solidity of judgment, nor humility of disposition, for bearing meekly the early advantages with which he set out in life; a fine person, fine parts, and a fine estate, all dashed into consciousness at the presuming age of one and twenty. By this aggregate of wealthy, of mental, and of personal prosperity, he has become at once self spoilt, and world spoilt. Had you known him, as I have done, before he was seized with this systematic affectation, which, I am satisfied, causes him more study than the united pedants of both universities could inflict upon him, you would have seen the most delightful creature breathing! a creature combining, in one animated composition, the very essences of spirit, of gaiety, and of intelligence. But now, with every thing within his reach, nothing seems worth his attainment. He has not sufficient energy to make use of his own powers. He has no one to command him, and he is too indolent to command himself. He has therefore turned fop from mere wantonness of time and of talents; from having nothing to do, no one to care for, and no one to please. Take from him half his wit, and by lessening his presumption, you will cure him of all his folly. Rob him of his fortune, and by forcing him into exertion, you will make him one of the first men of his day. Deface and maim his features and figure, and by letting him see that to appear and be admired is not the same thing, you will render him irresistible.’
‘Have you done?’ cried the baronet smiling.
‘I protest,’ said Mrs. Arlbery, ‘I believe you are a little touched! And I don’t at all want to reform you. A perfect character only lulls me to sleep.’
‘Obliging in the superlative! I must then take as a consolation, that I have never given you a nap?’
‘Never, Clarendel, I assure you; and yet I don’t hate you! Vice is detestable; I banish all its appearances from my coteries; and I would banish its reality, too, were I sure I should then have any thing but empty chairs in my drawing-room-but foibles make all the charm of society. They are the only support of convivial raillery, and domestic wit. If formerly, therefore, you more excited my admiration, it is now, believe me, you contribute most to my entertainment.’
‘Condoling to a phenomenon! I have really, then, the vastly prodigious honour to be exalted in your fair graces to the level of a mountebank? a quack doctor? his merry Andrew? or any other such respectable buffoon?’
‘Piqued! piqued! I declare! this exceeds my highest ambition. But I must not weaken the impression by dwelling upon it.’
She then asked Camilla if she had any message for Cleves, as one of her servants was going close to the park gate.
Camilla, glad to withdraw, said she would write a few words to her father, and ret............